THAT'S WHAT ADULTS DO

Christmas Card 2011

2011-12-22T18:49:00.001-08:00

Digital ecard personalized with Smilebox

Smile, If You Want To - A True Story

2011-07-21T07:41:00.000-07:00

"Do you have current ID?" the bank employee asked. I whipped out my driver's license...the one with the "good" picture of me, so good I actually enjoyed slapping it down on counters when asked.

It was a confident, smiling picture, taken eight years ago on a day that I had picked. I was dressed smartly, new haircut, makeup applied tastefully, a day frozen in time, and of course… eight years ago.

The employee frowned. "Uh, did you realize your license has expired?" he carefully asked. "What? No, I am sure it is ok. I haven't received any notices in the mail. Maybe the update sticker came off?"
He handed it back. The date indicated I had been blissfully driving around for the last five months with an expired license.

"I am sorry, but I cannot proceed with this transaction until you return with a valid and current form of government ID. Do you have a current passport?"
"Yes I do", I said, "I will return with it today."

I left the bank hoping I could remember where we were currently storing our passports. I have a history of coming up with yet "better" places to store such documents, and then forgetting where that "better" place was.

I hurried home, now aware of every car that looked remotely like a police car, wondering how I had ever managed to drive around so confidently for the last five months while harboring such a secret.

After successfully finding my passport, I thought the best course of action would be to go directly to the DMV and take care of this matter, lest I get pulled over during this brief criminal career.

It would, of course, mean a trip to the local Department of Motor Vehicles office (DMV), fortunately only a few blocks away, but still one of the most dreaded, yet fascinating places one could spend their afternoon. I say “afternoon,” since I had by now given up any hope of returning to my office.

As I walked into our home, one glance in the entryway mirror told me that any new photos at the DMV would not be the picture of eight years ago. Not only was I eight years older, I also needed a haircut, and a nasty fever blister was in “full bloom” on my upper lip.

There was no time to reapply makeup, and my face bore the markings of an already long day, a day probably not made lighter by an unexpected Friday afternoon trip to the DMV.

No longer a novice at these things, I armed myself with the local daily paper and the Wall Street Journal. Reading would help pass the time and avoid the awkwardness of sitting in those hard little plastic chairs, staring at the people across the aisle, such as an overly tattooed couple talking trivial matters on their cell phones.

The long line at the “take a number” machine was my first clue that this was going to be a special day at the DMV.
Passing up the express line set up for simpler transactions, I graciously waited to take a number in the longer line. Settling in with my papers, I noted about twenty numbers ahead of me.

When the 50s started to be called I “tuned in” for mine. Number 49 responded, number 50, no response....I waited for 52...half poised to rise..."number 53?"

I could not believe my ears! What are the chances that in the last twenty numbers, MINE was the one that was skipped?

Number 53 responded before I could object.

I walked up behind person 53 waiving my 52 and was told that I would have to take my “problem” to the receptionist, (the one who supervised the little number machine with the long line.)

I walked directly to the front of the line. The receptionist instructed me to stand right beside the machine while she yelled out my number between directing other “newbies” to either the fast lane or the little machine spitting out the magic numbers.

Standing there, in front of everyone with someone repeatedly calling out my “number”, I half expected someone to come up and inspect my teeth, or kick my shins for bone strength. That badly needed haircut would have helped, and I don't sleep as well as I did eight years ago. My value was ebbing away by the minute!

Finally, one of the “window” people took pity on me and called me over. Filling out the preliminary paperwork from my passport and social security card, she kindly explained how the state's little reminder postcards sometimes get lost in the mail or people toss them accidentally. I was starting to feel like this was all going to end well, when she pushed my paperwork toward me, directed me to go to the end of the counter, place my paperwork on the top of the pile, and be seated, again.

Confident that I was surely now close to the end, I obediently placed two of the three documents in this world that define I exist (at least legally), on top of a fairly short pile of papers, and then reseated myself in another hard, plastic chair.

A man with a broken nose glared across from me. His face told a story his mouth needn't tell. Eyes simmered with aggravation as he looked from me to the person now being served at the new window, the one talking on her cell phone, while the DMV woman calmly filled out paperwork.

Cell Phone girl continued to talk on her phone for many more minutes, the DMV woman remained nonplussed, evidently determined to keep everyone in order, no matter what the wait.

Broken Nose however, was getting red in the face, his breathing getting noticeably shallower. I hid behind my paper afraid to engage him, quite sure now that the only thing holding him from attacking us all was likely a recent prison release that might be at stake should he misbehave.

Finally, Cell Phone girl finished her business. We all breathed a sigh of relief as DMV woman slowly lifted the pile of paper work, papers that held the key to the rest of our afternoon. Broken Nose let out an exasperated breath, but at least he was breathing again.

Newspaper forgotten now, we all watched DMV woman with renewed hope. However, instead of taking the next person's paperwork, she begin laying out all the documents in a line on her desk, PRE-processing everyone’s forms; ripping, stapling, and finally reorganizing the pile while we all watched in helpless frustration.

By now, everything DMV woman did held us in some kind of victim’s fascination.
When she finally called the first of us forward all I could think of was "get this over with...gotta get out of here before Broken Nose or someone like him goes postal!"

Things were moving along now. Broken Nose leaned forward, ready to leap in the air at the call of his name. Now he was at the window, I was next, things were looking up.

"Linda" she said. At first I looked around me, unaware there was yet another person ahead of me. "Linda" she said more loudly. Then I remembered. She was calling out my "legal" name, not the shortened "Lin" I have responded to for more years than "Linda" ever saw. I hurried forward, cramming newspapers under my arm.

Looking over my documents again, she motioned for me to sit down in the photo chair. "Do we really have to take another picture?" I petitioned. "Can't you just put a new sticker on the back?” "Nope, gotta have a new picture every eight years now. Smile if you want to, look right there at that little blue button."

Flash! went the light in my eyes. She looked at her computer screen, a frown now breaking her stony face. "Sit back a little this time, and tilt your head more this way" she motioned. "Smile if ya want to." she said.

Remembering some of the foolish, almost evil grins that have been documented on other legal documents, I quickly made the decision that a clear-eyed, lips-slightly-parted look might be a more credible photo. My face was catching up with this idea when, FLASH! went the camera again.

Her eyes focused in close to her computer screen. I searched her face for any feedback. A smile began to play at the corners of her mouth. It was the first smile I had seen in all the time we had watched her work. It was not a good kind of smile. Trepidation gripped me, no one else had made her smile!

Her printer began to click, click. She ripped the paper triumphantly and handed me a photocopy of what would soon be on my most primary piece of ID.

I recoiled at the face on the paper. It could have been on any post office wall or police station. Limp hair framed a haggard face. Surprised eyes hung over a droopy mouth. The fever blister looked suspiciously like some kind of meth addict's lesion.

I stared in horror at the visage. "This is terrible picture.” I cried.
Can you take another one?" She stepped back, her eyes boring into mine, the evil smile getting more comfortable now in its place. "Sure honey, IF you want to get back in that line and pay $27".

I looked back at her, she was obviously enjoying this. Was this her idea of a good moment in her small, sad, little world? I stared hard into her face until her smile gave way to uneasiness. The smile began to melt some. I wanted her to feel the uncertainty.

When I was sure I had given her back some of her own medicine, I smiled. Leaning forward I said, "Well, it's not a beauty contest now is it?" and walked away, grateful that Broken Nose's picture was probably better than mine.

In the car I studied the haggard woman in the picture, wondering if the fresh face I saw in my own mirror most mornings was some kind of self deception.

Maybe I had a second life at night, walking the streets in some kind of unconscious state, more dead than alive. I took a deep breath, at least I was alive. I had survived the DMV for another eight years, and had the ugly proof in my wallet.

Timmy, We Hardlly Knew Ye by Lin Willett

2011-07-19T21:51:00.000-07:00

It was one of those slow summer Sunday afternoons. Our newly wedded daughter Bethany and her best friend Gitta were hanging out with us for the afternoon since Beth’s new husband Will was out of town for the week.

The two girls were stretched out, relaxing in the family room. Rod and I had just climbed the stairs to our room, looking forward to some reading, perhaps even a catnap that comes so easily when a warm Oregon breeze curls through the window and caresses your face.

The mood was quickly broken by Bethany’s call, “Dad, come quick!” The tone of her voice clearly conveying a note of urgency that indicated immanent crisis, such as when a total stranger forces his way through your front door, only to sprawl on your entryway in a puddle of his own blood.

Heart racing, I followed Rod down the stairs expecting the worst but knowing we had no choice but to face whatever lay ahead and do whatever we could to help.

We looked where the two girls were pointing. There in the middle of the hardwood floor a tiny little pink fleshed creature bathed in the afternoon light of the patio doors, writhing about on his back, making squeaking noises much too loud for his size.

Our grey tabby cat Tofie had just brought in a baby something, and dropped it, meowing loudly to get the girls’ attention.
Rod picked it up and carried it out to the raised wall, placing it among the flowers and strode back in.

“What did you do with it?” I asked. He told me where he had put it.
With the little cries echoing in my head I went out to see the hairless body lying in the cold wet soil, lifting its head feebly, eyes sealed tight yet searching with all its might for whatever comfort it had so recently known. Thrust into a world of cold bright lights and sounds, it struggled against massive odds to find again that warm secure place, its cries now weaker, mouth gaping, it seemed to be losing hope as the cold earth sucked out what little warmth remained in its body.

I haven’t had a lot of luck saving the little creatures brought in by the cat. Be it fledgling bird or baby rodent, pretty much any creature the cat brings to your attention to is going to die soon, if not from obvious puncture wounds, then internal bleeding.

My code of ethics is that I can give them a peaceful, un-tortured death, so I scooped up the creature, found a little cardboard box and some tissue, put him in it, and left him out in the garage to die in peace. I assured the girls that I would check on him, but his chances were not good. Before bed I looked again and was relieved to see him lying there on the tissue motionless. I looked for respirations but the little body was stone still. I thought, “as peaceful a death as could be under the circumstances.” I told the girls of his demise. We all slept better knowing he died with some sense of dignity and comfort.

The next morning on my way to get into the car for work, I thought I would dispose of the body. I opened the box to verify the death, knowing now that the body would be stiff and cold, easier to dispose of in that state, the delicate little features frozen, limbs contorted and bent.
I was startled to see the little limbs move ever so slowly. Somehow the creature had made it through the night without heat or food. Upon opening the box, his hope seemed to renew and he struggled to crawl toward me. Call it maternal instinct, but this “baby” was struggling to live like any other little creature. The drive to live was still beating in a heart that refused to give up if there was someone or something that might lend it what it needed, it would still grasp at that survival. A weak cry escaped from the little pink mouth, perfectly formed pink lips parted with each peep.
Its sheer drive to live demanded something of me.

Now what!? How do you save a baby mouse? If you succeed, what do you do with a mouse? I went on to work trying to decide what to do.
His chances weren’t good even with my best efforts, and if he did survive, then what? A pet mouse in the house of empty nesters? Maybe my son in law Will would take him for his 2nd and 3rd grade class room next fall. Perhaps I could get him well enough to be on his own and let him go in the field at the end of the street. Maybe it would give him the fighting chance that some awful circumstance had cheated him of.

I still thought he would probably die, but the girls and I did some research on the internet and found out that baby rodents can be fed diluted infant formula. The trick is getting it down them. Gitta and I went to the pet store later in the day and bought a tiny bottle but the nipple was too big. I knew I had a pointed syringe for dental care that might allow me to administer tiny drops. Bethany ordered supplies, she even had some tiny nipples over-nighted in her zeal. This mouse had allies!

Yet, I still kept thinking, “why?” We set traps for the adult mice, we have cats to keep down the rodent population. How could I justify trying to save a mouse even if it was a baby? The girls were persistent. Rod was doubtful, but he has lived with us long enough to know better than to try and talk us out of such crusades once the cause has possessed us--in this case a tiny, hairless, cause who would need a name if we were to give ourselves to him. Timmy.

And so the daunting task began. The first hurdle was how to keep him in his bed between feedings. After finding him outside his basket lying cold and still on tables and tile counters between feedings, I finally commandeered a teeth whitening box with plastic ends that fit securely, cutting air holes in the top and side, then adding soft flannel and cotton in the bottom. This kept the little bugger in but I soon realized that much like a preemie baby, these little mammals have no way to keep their body temperature stable without the aggregate warmth of the bigger mother and siblings to snuggle with. Even secured in his box, his body temperature would plunge between feedings and I would have to warm him up before he had the strength or energy for food. Any heat source I put near him had to be ever so gentle with the option of him getting away from it should it be too warm.

The first couple of rice and bean bags I warmed in the microwave oven overwhelmed him and sent him into some kind of seizure-like activity, even though by human standards they were just cozy. I knew it was just right when after a feeding, he would go over to the warm side of his box and curl up in a tight little “c’ shape against the warmth and go right to sleep…the only problem being that the warmth would not last until the next feeding.

The internet said not only would he need small feedings (define small?) as often as every 2 -3hrs, but also I would have to stimulate him to relieve himself of waste before each feeding by stroking his genitalia as many mother mammals do by licking their young.

At first we thought maybe this was some kind of sick joke but other websites verified this so I settled on q tips and warm water for this task and usually had a little success, (again define success on a creature so tiny!)

The feedings themselves were tedious. The pointed syringe worked the best but did not lend itself to being very gentle on the tiny pink lips which eagerly mouthed the hard tip but with no strength to suck out the milk. Even the slightest push on the plunger would strangle him. Once or twice the formula would come back out his nostrils as I struggled to hold him just firmly enough to direct the milk in his mouth while not injuring him.

You would think that between being alternately chilled to the bone and sometimes “water boarded” that the little blind creature would hide anytime I came near, so it was to my surprise after a few feedings to find him sitting up, waiting quietly for me to open his box lid, and then quickly scrambling up my hand and rooting at the base of my fingers for something to suckle.

It became apparent after a while that he had learned to discern my voice and anticipate the opening of his little habitat. You could almost see a quiet “intelligence” as he waited for that lid to come off and fingers to descend for a gentle lift to yet another massage and chow time.

My friend Carol happened to be over that week and after hearing I was feeding a baby mouse she wanted to see him. I opened his box and gently extended my fingertips. They were met with tiny pink skinned “hands” that grabbed on for a skitter up.

I just caught the look of alarm that passed over my friend’s face, maybe a slight recoil of her body when it occurred to me that I had just let a mouse run up my hand--a mouse that in a few hours had sprouted a silky grey velvet coat just like the creatures that despite their size and lack of malice, often put us women into a screaming panic, causing us to climb chairs or find any higher ground until we are sure the “threat” is dealt with.

I thought, “What has changed? Why is it ok for THIS mouse to run up my hand but any other mouse would have run ME up a chair?
I studied Carol…who had stepped back a bit….eyeing the mouse with less curiosity now and more fear….suddenly I realized the power such creatures give boys who use their familiarity with outdoor insects and reptiles to torment and overpower girls.

Carol was poising herself now to make a run for it should I lose control of Timmy, her eyes fixed on his silky grey body while her peripheral vision searched for higher ground or doorways should this “villain” escape my grasp.

How had this happened?…one moment I am the hysterical woman running from one of the most helpless creatures that God created, yet now, at this season, acting as a surrogate mother?

I realized that the difference was two things: empathy and familiarity.

Empathy had captured me in the first place when he was crying, cold, lost, and helpless, in a world that I knew would show him no kindness or mercy, rather pitiless torture--torture that would cause him to welcome death. A death that would come not at his command, but when cruelty was done with him and he had served the purpose of whatever predator or element claimed him first.

Something in our human psyche abhors that aspect of life here on earth…each of us seeing ourselves or those we care about often the victim of this “fallen” version of what God originally created to work in harmony and beauty.

Familiarity was more gradual…a learned thing that happens as we “get close” to that which we fear, close enough to see the perfections of God’s design and the similarities we share.

As I would feed him, I would marvel at his perfectly formed pink lips and tiny red tongue. I didn’t need a magnifying glass to know that every feature of his body, including his internal organs were just as complicated and amazing as my own. I watched in fascination how he would stop feeding to wipe a droplet of milk from his face, smoothing each whisker, eyes still sealed tight. After feeding, the little pink hands and opposing thumb would carefully groom his face and head, smoothing each silky facial hair.

Thus began a difficult responsibility of feeding an orphaned infant that desperately needed the twenty four hour attention, feeding, and warmth of his better suited mammal mother, but who now had transferred that dependency to me…an intelligent and sympathetic human, but one lacking the facilities to meet the needs of even such a humble yet marvelous creature.

The 2 am and 5 am feedings began to wear on me. I would stumble out of bed at the sound of the alarm and become irritated, but compassion would fill me as I reached in and felt how lethargic and cool his little body had become.

I railed at myself inwardly for not being able to come up with a more consistent temperature for his environment which would have almost necessitated putting him against my own skin. I knew that if I ever succumbed to that measure I would have to admit that I had indeed become some kind of dreaded “rat woman” who kept vermin alive between her breasts. I vowed to never cross that line!

Then a few nights later it happened. I stumbled into the bathroom in the wee hours. His cool body was outside the protective bedding as usual, but this time as I warmed him in my hand he didn’t respond as before. He lifted his head weakly towards the syringe but not with the same vigor. I thought if I could just get a little down him and warm him up, maybe he was just sleepy like me.

The next feeding I knew something was wrong. He had no energy at all.
In vain I drizzled the milk in his mouth only to have it come out his nose.
A fear and actual grief gripped my chest…not unlike the kind that happens when you realize that important people in your life are slipping away and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

There is something humbling about such times, whether the loss be a human or animal. It is the moment you realize that you and often no one else can stop the cascading effects of death.
It is the panic of feeling somehow responsible for a death, or the empty ache of being helpless to prevent it.

I cannot truly compare this humble rodent’s demise to the death of my two brothers or any of the four parents we recently lost in just one 7 year period.
Yet, as I watched the soft little chest struggle to expand, my own recently buried helplessness and panic tore through my chest, snapping free all the emotional bandages that held at bay the raw pain of attending a loved one’s death. Once again I was watching someone or something dear fall through thin air from a cliff’s edge after desperately trying to pull them back to safety.

I could not run away from those feelings as long as I held such a poignant reminder so I sat up in bed during those wee hours, unable to toss aside my little patient to suffer those last throes of death without warmth and touch.

Tears coursed down my cheeks as I watched the life ebb out of his delicate little body, gently warmed and protected by the inside of my hand.
Long before the light of morning his body cooled, little feet drooped at the joints, the delicate mouth hung open and I knew he was gone.

In that moment, one little baby mouse seemed to represent all the anguish in this world that we cannot prevent; all the orphans who will never know the intended nurturing of a caring parent, and all those we will love and lose in spite of our best determination and undying love for them.

Morning came as it always does…rested, joyful, and naive of the anguishes of the night it relieves.
I looked over at the box that I knew now held just another cold, stiff, rodent….the kind people shake from a trap into the garbage as quickly as possible, most not looking too closely.

But I had learned from this little creature and invested so much! How is it that “small” makes creatures more disposable? I could not bring myself to toss such a beautiful creature into last week’s moldy food scraps.

People chided me about this, hiding their smiles behind their fingers while pretending to sympathize with my dilemma, eyes darting from me to the other person as if to say, “Let’s just humor her, she obviously is taking this seriously.”

I asked them if they would toss a beloved pet such as a kitty or puppy in the garbage can so easily, remembering how this little animal shared all the endearing physical qualities of both species, but then we don’t usually get that close to mice do we?

I thought of how soldiers are taught to see the enemy they must fight and overcome as less than human….ugly words like “Japs,” or “Krauts” allow us to somehow deem other humans and races as more deserving to die.
What we cannot tolerate we must demonize, unless we are forced to look close--close enough to see the same blue eyes and blond hair…or watch an enemy mother or father playing and protecting their young just like we do.

Looking closely with open eyes would break down walls of rationalization and make the necessary need to defend family and country an agonizing task. We avoid the agony by not looking too closely.

This same thinking has now insisted we tolerate the killing and disposal of our own children. Even perfectly formed infants with God-given intelligence and futures are snuffed out without recrimination, as long as they are small enough, as long as we don’t look at them very closely, they too can be thrown into a garbage can. Put the lid on quickly so you don’t see their humanity and our own barbarism!

With all Timmy had taught me, he was still just a mouse…now a dead one. I found some cotton and put the mouse on it in a little clear plastic box.
Husband Rod typed a little epithet, “Timmy, we hardly knew ye” on the side, probably more out of respect for my efforts and affection for the little thing than humor.

Those less acquainted with the journey always make more light of its hardships. So many laughed and made light of the little clear box and its gentle contents except daughter Bethany and her friend Gitta who wept with me a little that day, not because one little mouse had died but because life is so fragile and we are so helpless in the end to stop suffering, natural death, and victimization….and so few take the time to look closely at what they fear.

Rice and Beans month day 8

2011-03-08T19:43:00.000-08:00

I have a whole new way of cooking now...with jasmine rice precooked and beans cooked up and rinsed in the frig, who needs fast food! We add vegies, fruit, and tea. Mostly try to stick to it for our evening meal but not bad for breakfast we have found. This is the NEW fast food and it's healthy and cheap...plus others will not go hungry because of those who participate in this exercise of simplicty and sharing out of our excess.

Go to www.eatriceandbeans.com for more info.
an outreach of Lahash.net a local Portland Or ministry partnering with east africans helping east africans orphans and widows.

Here is my newest recipe shared by my friend Charlotte who lived in Turkey. I can't wait to try it. Notice the dried mint!

Turkish Red Lentil Soup
1 TBSP. butter or olive oil
1 onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced or 1 tsp. dried minced garlic, or 1/8 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground coriander
2 TBSP. tomato paste
8 cups low-fat vegetable or beef stock
1 cup red lentils
¼ cup short-grain rice
1 dried red pepper (optional) or ½ tsp. ground red pepper
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. pepper
½ tsp. dried mint
1 lemon, cut into wedges

Method:
1. In a Dutch oven (or pan with a heavy bottom), warm butter or olive oil over medium heat.
2. Add onion and sauté for 5 to 10 minutes, or until onion is translucent.
3. Stir in garlic, cumin and coriander and cook for 1 to 2 minutes.
4. Add tomato paste, stock, lentils, rice, and red pepper (if desired). Stir to combine.
5. Bring soup to a boil, cover pan, and reduce heat to a simmer.
6. Cook for about 30 to 40 minutes, stirring occasionally so it doesn’t burn. A kettle with a heavy bottom reduces possible scorching, too.
7. When lentils and rice are tender and soup has thickened, add salt, pepper and dried mint. If desired, serve hot with lemon wedges.
Preparation time: 5 minutes. Cooking time: 1 hour. Serves 4

Eat Pray Love the book

2011-02-28T15:47:00.000-08:00

While reading this book, I'm struck by the selfishness and lack of commitment from this woman of privilege.
I can't relate to her willingness to sacrifice the most important relationships in life for yet more romps and paid vacations of temporary happiness.

How can you "find yourself "at the expense of hard working people in other countries, people who have to prepare the food you eat and wash your dirty dishes. What you find is your stunted, adolescent self, not an adult.

All that said, her writing is excellent and you can't help but enjoy the book.
Such transparency is risky but makes the book "real", it also reveals our insides and makes us vulnerable to others and hopefully exposes our true motives.

It is certainly a cheap vicarous vacation for the reader.
As an ESL teacher I appreciate her love and discipline to learn a foreign lanuguage.

In the end we all have to grow up, wash the dishes, spend ourselves for others, and learn to make God our steering wheel instead of our spare tire.
"You will know the truth and the truth will set you free" Free of self?

Come out and rebel

2010-11-08T21:30:00.000-08:00

After not watching network tv for the last year I decided to watch Grey's Anatomy premier this fall just to see if it had improved. I was disgusted to find yet another "homo promo" tv episode. (did I just coin a phrase?)

Out of desperation and liking medical shows I watched the next program, the pilot episode for Private Practice only to find it even more offensive, this time targeting the black community, maybe they have been a little less gullible in their willingness to "fall into line" and do what the media writers command us to think and believe?

Still remembering the depravity and persistent brainwashing of the entertainment industry, tonight I was reading about Tom Selleck and thought, now here is a "man's man"...so I started looking for some of his older movies that we might rent. I came across a comedy called "In and Out". Guess what part Tom plays..
the homosexual who convinces a straight, engaged school teacher that he really is homosexual after kissing him!

Now I am wondering if this next generation even knows what has hit them?
Are they going to think for themselves and decide what they believe....or will they fall into line and march to the media mantra being screamed in their ears, "Perversion is normal....perversion is harmless"
"Resistance is hateful"

I hope they resist and are the generation that lovingly but firmly stands up for the wondrous way God created us and the beautiful mysteries of hetersexuality...and no, you don't have to be hateful to believe this.
In fact, hatefulness is probably worse than homosexuality, but it is a lie that everyone who disagrees is hateful.

I also hope my grandchildren are benevolent leaders and role models in that movement, not hateful but loving the sinner while hating the sin.
I never thought I would say it but I want my grandchildren to, "come out" and "rebel". Maybe those aren't such bad words after all.

Kick the Tupperware?

2010-07-12T14:23:00.000-07:00

http://http//www.family-fun-guide.com/play-kick-the-can

My friend Bonnie H asks if kids play games like “Kick the Can” anymore in the summer.

We played Hide n Seek, Red Rover, Mother May I, Red Light Green Light and a game called "Annie Annie Over” with a ball, throwing it over the house to the team on the other side hoping they didn't catch it and come after us.
I also had a great "mud kitchen" in a corner of the wood stacks where I made a delicious assortment of foods and desserts out of mud and aluminum child size pans.

Seems the older kids taught us and refereed in those days; who teaches the next generation of kids today? Maybe it is time to reintroduce some of those games we played for hours.
It is a wonder there was any grass left around that little white house I grew up in with so many of us yelling and screaming around and around..I try to remember that now when my neighbor kids are yelling for hours at a time....I finally went upstairs and watched them play for a while...good for cranky old neighbor ladies to remember summer fun :)
What games did you play?

Little "Distractions"?

2010-06-29T14:33:00.001-07:00

Democratic Senator Al Franklin of Minnesota will be one of the newer senators interviewing nominee Elena Kagen for a lifetime appointment on the Supreme Court. He was quoted earlier to have said;

" The time has come for progressives to recognize that Roe v Wade has distracted attention from what is now the heart of the judicial controversy; the ability of individuals to assert their rights against corporations" (emphasis mine)

Are the lives of thousands of our most innocent and vulnerable citizens now "distractions", distractions that no longer have a place in the heart of judicial controversy?

I suggest that our congress and courts need to get their own hearts and priorities right and once and for all address the most compelling and obvious issue of our time; the right to life itself.

Here is a link from the picture above for those who have "ears to hear and eyes to see"

What will men and women who have held these posts say someday when they stand before a God who champions the rights of the weak and oppressed and give account of how they used these positions of power and influence? If they aren't shuddering now they will be trembling then.

Oh God, visit America with your compelling conviction before you have to visit us with crushing judgement! Open our eyes to this horrific carnage and our ears to their tortured cries!

Eat your oatmeal granny & don't shoot up the bank

2010-03-24T15:11:00.000-07:00

Cal Thomas...one of my favorite voices of sanity has weighed in on healthcare reform...or shall we call it "attack the billfold that pays the medical bills" and ignore the elephant in the middle of the room; that is, the medical care costs that DRIVE insurance premiums.

It is hard to weigh in on this one since I help people buy health insurance...even the companies I work with have been reluctant. How do you FORCE your way into a debate when the powers that be have decided that the billfold (insurance companies) are the problem vs the actual cost of the health care ? No matter what you say, you are going to be considered bias.

Imagine going to the store and finding out bread is now $10 a loaf so you go over to the bank and shoot all the tellers because they told you that you didn't have enough money in your account to buy bread unless you made a deposit.

Too bad we missed the chance to do REAL health care reform....something I think insurance companies have wanted for a long time!

Instead we got hoodwinked into paying for another huge, inefficient and costly government health program. That is what we should remember Pres. Obama and Sen. Peloski for.

So eat your oatmeal if you are over 40, looks like old people are not going to be on the top of the list to spend money on when they start figuring out how to pay for this....and in the meantime, don't make too much money and create jobs, evidently that is something we punish now?

Cal says it well, check out what else he points out below
http://http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2010/03/20/cal-thomas-obama-health-care-reform-democrats-pelosi-republicans/

Giving birth again..the last wedding

2010-03-22T16:38:00.000-07:00

We had our last family wedding last Friday night, Here is husband Rod dancing with our "baby"

Daughter Bethany and Will tied the knot in the historical First Baptist church downtown Portland.

It turned out about a perfect as a wedding could..thanks to all the helping hands that went into the planning and the work that friends and family poured into this one evening.

Light hor d'eurves served and cleaned up after by Catering by Bo in SW Portland, flowers arranged and delivered by Wild Strawberry in Oregon City, and the most delicious cake I have ever eaten by Cheryl's cup of tea in Oregon City made this an elegant yet affordable event this time. You want to enjoy your own child's wedding and there are folks out there who can do these things for you affordably. I learned the hard way trying to do these things myself at the last wedding. Enjoy this day!

The process does seem to get easier by the third child..not just in knowing what to expect and having more "hands" involved but also in seeing the outcome after the wedding.

When my son, our first child, married I was broadsided sitting there on the pew by myself while husband Rod prepared to play his trumpet up front. Tears began flowing from nowhere as my son stood there in his tux....a strangely tall, handsome two year old in a mother's eyes.

Just as you do not leave a pregnant mother's side while she is giving birth, neither should she sit alone on a church pew and experience the painful but healthy "separation" of her child as they transfer that emotional intimacy permanently and legally to another person. Once again I watched the birth to adulthood slide show but this time that son sat by me and put my hand in his as I once again "gave birth" for the third and last time, now to his youngest sister.

You can love your in laws to death and still feel the ripping and tearing of heart strings as your child leaves the "womb" of your heart.

I have the advantage now of seeing the outcome of sharing a child and getting in laws and grandchildren back in the trade, just as a mother looks forward to holding her second newborn with the knowledge that better things are ahead.... but you still need that hand on yours and that lace hankie handy to dab those brimming eyes.

On a more practical side, here is a list for your Mother of the Bride bag put together over several weeks before the wedding: (good idea for wedding coordinators too!)

Also: leave your money and credit cards home...you don't want to be worrying about your purse, let hubby pay for incidentals. Also, put phone no's in your cell phone of key people you may need to call the day of the wedding, florists, cake person, wedding coordinator etc.

Here is the list for your bag: Mine was a BIG strudy woven bag ...think laundry size

Wet wipes....make up on black dress does not wipe off well with paper towels

antipersirant ...people are nervous...its a long day

PINS straight pins, safety pins, bobby pins, corsage pins

thread and needle (black and white)

hair bands

rubber bands

tape reg and double sided for clothes etc...don't plan on using it on pews etc (hard on church)

*Also be sure your photographer knows if there is a NO FLASH policy as many older churches now require

florists putty (wobbly candles, etc)

I also took the candles, and the wedding rings just to keep track of them for bride/groom

butane lighter

band aides

pain relievers

lip balm (dehydration is a real problem)

plastic zip lock bags...(put all the little stuff in one Ziploc for quick retrieval)

toothbrush/paste/mints (you will want to freshen your breath before all those pictures/hugs

black marker and lunch sacks (make separate snacks for bride/groom/wedding party) and write their names on the sacks

(trays of open snacks get eaten by the wrong people sometimes)

water in bottles (write names of wedding party on bottles....keep everyone hydrated!

food for wedding party: Costco roll up turkey rolls, green grapes, crackers (no stain finger foods)(this NO time for low blood sugar!) (the food won't fit in your bag but bring something to eat...white cheddar popcorn was popular.)

hair spray/gel, brush comb, curling iron

make up bag and larger folding mirror for touch ups

water proof mascara (yep)

nice hankie in a plastic bag until the ceremony (friend mailed me one...with a beautiful card)

iron or steamer

finger nail polish ( clear/white to touch up those french tips)

finger nail file and clippers, small scissors

dryer sheets (gets rid of static under dresses and clingy problems)

tupperwear or other disposable dishes for food storage

ice chest for food and flowers (don't count on frig space)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You may not use all these items but they can save the day in some instances and you know Mom is always the "go to person"....and you will always be....even AFTER they are married.

Knock out a cold with this nourishing tea ?

2009-10-28T14:45:00.000-07:00

Fresh Ginger and Green Onion Tea

This is the recipe from my friend Carol B. Her doctor gave it to her and it is amazing. Try to use a couple of small (1x1 inch) chunks of FRESH ginger if you can. I keep some in the crisper drawer all winter. In a pinch you could try dry ginger in a spice can but I don't think it would work near as well.

It tastes GOOD when you have a cold. Buy some fresh ginger and be ready to make it next time someone is getting that scratchy throat or already has congestion

In a medium pot

2 pieces of fresh ginger, crushed

3 large or five small GREEN onions. white part and roots only( I look for some with long roots).

3 cups water.Bring to a boil, then simmer for 10 minutes.

Add 2 to 3 tablesoons of brown sugar.

Drink warm before bedtime ( or anytime you need a boost) Lin

San Franciso brand jeans, vintage 70's

2009-08-31T19:23:00.000-07:00

"If you go to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair..." the song went.

San Francisco always seemed to be a part of my 20's.

My college friend and I did a road trip there one spring break. Rod and I honeymooned there, eating at the original Spaghetti Factory, a hole in the wall in a not so nice neighborhood then. We ran out into the street to hop onto open air streetcars that clinked up steep hills cresting the top for panoramic views. We watched the gulls at Fishermen's Wharf, ate crepes at the Magic Pan and fresh chocolate at Ghiridelli .

Even my favorite pair of jeans were San Francisco brand. They had a special fit and feel of their own, seems like every college girl needed a pair then; the perfect color of soft, blue, denim, and long flowing legs slightly flared over a thick soled shoe or boot.

I had a pair of brown leather shoes then that looked like a boot but really were a backless, high heeled shoe. Pretty classy look with those jeans although it made my 5'7"frame even taller. (Seems funny now to see all the young single women running around in flats.) It was a flowing look with my long, straight, red-blond hair parted down the middle.

I have very few items from those days but I kept that pair of jeans. They were in good shape and I guess I thought the look might come back someday. Was my waist ever that tiny?

I found them buried in storage the other day and decided there might be someone looking for them by now. They would be in perfect shape for being over 35 yrs old.

I didn't find any evidence of anyone looking for them, perhaps they are so rare now few know about them? Maybe I will put them on EBay and see what happens. Someone in Japan may be "up" on 70's West Coast culture and want to experience slipping on those magic jeans!

From Blue to Blue, Surviving Loss

2009-08-06T20:33:00.000-07:00

This hydrangea was from a potted plant that was given to the family when my mom, Zona died two years ago.

It had large vivid pink blossoms then, in fact so many people in town sent pink flowers that the local florist in Prineville ran out of pink and had to special order more. My mom was serious about pink, she would have loved Barbie!

Although pink is one of my least favorite colors, I planted this where I’ve always wanted a hydrangea and thought of my mom in her favorite pink dress with the little petal cap sleeves each year when it bloomed.

Then this summer to my amazement it bloomed blue, the color I would have chosen, I guess due to moving it to an acidic soil vs alkaline.

I thought as I stood looking at it from the patio this evening that the color change seems to have coincided with the end of my deep mourning for my mom. I still miss her and think of her everyday but the deep sense of loss and pain have lifted and it is obvious that God has brought things into my life during that time that provided not only healing but joy once again.

When we lay in bed at night worrying about the future and the losses we may have to face, we never factor in that God not only knows about the losses but He has already planned the remedy.

Rod used to remind me that 95% of what we worry about never happen, but even that which does happen is firmly in God’s hands…a good place to leave it.

Now we have lost Rod's dad this last week...we are orphans now, but not without hope knowing God knew the appointed time of each departure....was it a coincidence that his large picture fell off the wall in his room at home just as he was dying in the hospital? An exit of exultation!

Fun in the sun - Mazatlan

2009-03-22T08:47:00.000-07:00

Oh Mazatlan, I forgot your charms.
Two years ago we started saving for and planning a family trip to return to Mazatlan. The idea was that we would supply a couple of rooms and the kids would find their own way down there.
We were wondering if we had made a mistake when we began hearing about all the drug violence in other parts of Mexico but Mazatlan remains beautiful, warm, and culturally rich as usual. How can you go wrong with Mexican hospitality and culture, the beautiful Pacific ocean, and SUN.

Traveling with passports is still not for everyone but it does open doors to some of the best vacation spots in the world.
I almost feel at "home" when I am there...maybe it is just the loving people we have come to know there that makes it such a special place...and until their govt gets their act together, the tourist industry is a vital part of their livelihood. For that reason I like to be generous with my tips...these people work so hard and I know it is a way of sharing what we have. Join us with a peek at one of our favorite spots off the tourist beat for dinner in the old historical Mazatlan called the Machado. The little guy is grandson Micah...I took this video so he can have a record of his first visit to Mexico. (see video clip below)
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1111859032600&saved#/video/?id=1110622279

LAX...The meanest airport in America?

2009-03-17T22:29:00.000-07:00

Is it me or is LA international the meanest place in America?

Rod and some extended family came through LAX last night to catch the last leg of our trip home on the late pm flight.

Leaving beautiful warm Mazatlan Mexico to land in LAX and go through customs is always a shock. First y0u are herded into "stalls" at customs staffed by foreign looking people whose job seems to be to assume YOU are a terrorist hell bent on doing the whole place in.

I prepared my son JR that you will feel like a slimeball trying to sneak in disease laden fruit that will destroy the entire agriculture industry of the US and the existance of many other countries. Then Alaska Airlines will herd you around via overweight female minority workers whose only people skills seem to be verbal yelling and gesturing until they get you and your "checked" bags out of the terminal and onto the sidewalk to try and figure out where to go with your "checked" luggage without a guide.

Every time it is the same, weary passengers, dragging heavy "checked" luggage down the sidewalk asking each other and total strangers "are we going the right way". Finally we all somehow find the right line in the next building only to be yelled out some more as we drop our "checked" baggage off for the airline and are told to DOUBLE BACK through the same crowded line of weary passengers trying to get their "checked" luggage to the next terminal for this ineffecient airport.

Daughter Bethany accidently had a third of a bottle of water in her carry on when she got to the last check point. The employee told her to go dump it out and go to the BACK OF THE LINE (now another whole flight of people had come in) and go through the whole security check again with her empty water bottle! (her favorite metal bottle was not going to be left behind)

I know people coming back from vacation and sun to the realities of life are not always that fun to deal with...maybe we have made these employees mean? But, seemed to me the passengers were the ones trying to get along and make things work?

I would like to write about Mexico....ahhhhh. Maybe I will once I get over the trauma of coming home!

The FaceBook Pickle

2009-02-11T19:48:00.000-08:00

Pickle Ball...>

Ok, I almost forgot how to get back into my own blog....FaceBook has captured me! I have to admit that since I found out this week how to send and get messages (off line) to other face book friends I have found it to be more satisfying. Scribbling on each other's walls in plain site of everyone was the only thing I knew how to do!

Do you hate the idea of FaceBook? It took me a while to warm to it.

One of the things I hate about it is that other people have to tell you how to use it....there is no such thing as a true HELP feature.....I think the people who run it must all be aliens or robots! How people figure out how to do all the things they do is beyond me.

I will never be into all the "pokes" and cutsey stuff on FB but I must admit I have reconnected with friends from college and even a few from highschool. Fun to see what others are doing these days.

So between Face Book and spending some time working from Arizona I apologize if you have been looking for any updates here. It is hard to keep up both, esp when I would rather be playing Pickle ball in the sun.

I don't want to lose my blog friends tho, so maybe I can get you to be my "friend" on Facebook?

Or maybe I can figure out how to send people to my blog from FaceBook so my non FB friends won't be locked out because they haven't joined? Hmmmm

atmospheric changes?

2008-12-02T13:35:00.000-08:00

As I was preparing to take down this year's Thanksgiving "door" I was struck by the thought that although we can create and "atomosphere of gratefulness, it does not make us personally grateful or more happy. Just being around grateful people may feel good but we only change as WE determine to become grateful and express it in someway. I enjoy the atmoshere of "collective " gratefulness I feel when I read this year's door....maybe I will leave it up a few more days?

What stands out when you think back on your holiday? Will you change anything next year? I am going to make less pumpkin pie and potatos...but look forward to the table games, light shopping, and maybe a good video or movie.

How is your Christmas going to be different this year? We are experimenting with just one gift this year and more of an emphasis on giving vs receiving...maybe a little group exercise around that concept on Christmas eve. Have you tried to limit gifts? Do people just spend the money on themselves instead of others? Seems like that is the trend. Have you heard of the "Advent conspiracy"? http://www.adventconspiracy.org/
What is your favorite tradition....one of ours is making and decorating cookies. (eating them is not bad either...hmm).
It would be great to hear from some of my bloggin friends out there if you decide to "uplug the Christmas machine"as one author describes in her book of the same name. Maybe you are having trouble finding the plug or getting the courage to pull it? ...or do you have it all under control and love every minute of it?

Thanks for what?

2008-11-25T13:09:00.000-08:00

Gratefulness is the key to a happy life that we hold in our hands, because if we are not grateful, then no matter how much we have we will not be happy -- because we will always want to have something else or something more. - Brother David Steindl-Rast

This week is always a mix of the pressure of shopping for food, finishing up loose ends at work, while savoring the thought of a short work week and time with family....and every year the effort to remember WHY we have set this time aside, to focus on all the good that God has done not just this last year but also years past.

You might remember last year I posted butcher paper on the wall for free form messages of thanks to be expressed. see Dec 2007 blog:

http://thatswhatadultsdo.blogspot.com/2007/12/butcher-paper-thanks.html

This really worked well and guided us all to keeping the focus on why we take these four days off every year and make such valient efforts to come together as family and friends. It helps that some family members can actually draw or illustrate (son in law Dan for example)

I hope you will borrow this idea for the next couple of days. All you need is some paper, some accessable crayons, and maybe some a few lines to get people started thinking about all that we have to be thankful for....yep even in a recession.

You don't need a lot of people around the next few days to set a tone of gratefulness in your "space", do this for yourself, just make it visable and fun, even if you are the only one writing it will affect others and direct their thoughts towards all we have been blessed with. If you are artsy...you can also show off your God given talents and give honor back to Him at the same time!

Bless your own Thanksgiving this year by remembering and honoring God in your life and home.

Do you vote we fast?

2008-11-03T19:58:00.000-08:00

I heard that there has been some organized fasting and prayer for the election.
I have been praying but not fasting.
Do you think christians should be fasting?
Why do you think Christians are fasting for this election? If the more conservative candidate were ahead would we fast?
Would we need to fast if most christians voted in the first place? Maybe we should be registering people to vote and reminding them?
Are we putting too much of our trust in those elected vs God?
When the elected president puts his hand on the Bible does he become an instrument of God even against his/her will? (I hope so)
I respect those giving themselves to fasting but had some thots. Please comment

"Audio Hogs"

2008-10-29T13:38:00.000-07:00

I found myself sitting in the lobby of the Governor hotel this morning down town Portland. I found a plush chair next to a window and was catching up a little with the newspaper while waiting for a meeting when two business men came in the room, their loud, booming voices preceding their entrance.
They sat far apart at a large round table across the once quiet room and continued an intercourse that could have addressed a crowded room.
Any hope of maintaining my reading focus was lost once these two arrived. I had to read out loud, quietly, under my breath to keep my focus from then on.
Any idea why guys do this, seems to be worse with business men? Some women do the same thing with their loud laughter and boisterous talk.
I wish I could think of an acceptable way to confront these "audio hogs", the thought of tossing my cold coffee on them probably wasn't the best idea.

Speak or Lead?

2008-10-16T22:14:00.000-07:00

I fell asleep last night listening to a replay of the Pres. debate. I heard enough however to know that it is coming down to whether we want someone with experience or someone who speaks well.
Sen. McCain did not debate well. He was touchy and offensive...which may be coming from someone who has a heart vs a smile but he came across poorly.
I remember Geroge Bush and Al Gore debating and I thot Bush had lost the election he was so bad but then he won.
Sen. Obama spoke with a silver tongue, promising americans that he will give us everything we want to hear....not the first or last candidate to do that.
I remember a highschool election where the candidate for class president promised to fill all the drinking fountains with Pepsi vs water if he were elected.
Of course we laughed but we're now all 50+ and seems some of us really believe it now?
I fell asleep before they got to health care.....did they get to it? What did you think of the debate?

Two videos I haven't seen

2008-10-11T16:30:00.000-07:00

Have any of you seen the movie "Lake of Fire" or "Blood Diamonds"?
I have heard that both are very compelling and a must to be seen.

If anyone out there has seen them I would like to know what you think.
(Both of them may be graphic in some content from what I have heard)

http://movies.yahoo.com/movie/1809761901/video "Lake of Fire"

http://www.history.com/minisite.do?content_type=Minisite_Video_Clips&content_type_id=52821&display_order=3&mini_id=52826&utm_source=google_content&utm_medium=CPC&utm_term=content_blood+diamonds&utm_campaign=blood+diamonds&keywords=content_blood+diamonds&paidlink=1&ref_str=http%3A//www.imdb.com/title/tt0450259/ Blood Diamonds clip

Are there any heros today?

2008-10-10T15:11:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking a lot lately about the times we live in and the people being "raised up" before us. I worry about putting people on "pedestals" because I hate it when they fall but someone needs to speak the truth in these days and maybe we ought to lift them up so they can be heard? See the link below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qforjC64Hfs

Those who dare to speak the truth

2008-10-05T21:35:00.001-07:00

I watched the VP debate this last Thursday. Frankly I was a little worried how Sarah Palen would do, she is tough but seems like the media is determined to pin her little white ears to the wall.
Have you seen ANY of those aggressive interviews with Joe Biden?

Five minutes into the debate I begin to relax and was amazed how this fiesty female from Alaska danced circles around Sen Biden as he stood there with his porcelain perfect smile in place.
I was impressed however with Biden's restraint and graciousness...he certainly handled himself as a gentleman....sometimes a rarity these days.

Should Sarah be our next VP. I don't know, I'm still watching and listening, but the more I hear the more I like, esp on issues like traditional marriage and abortion..It is so good to hear a woman speak truth that so many powerful men can't seem to utter. Did you see the debate?

Geeks meet Hilary

2008-09-15T21:02:00.000-07:00

I was invited last weekend to speak to a group of entrepreneurs leaving established companies and going out on their own in business. They needed someone to talk about health insurance.

What they didn't tell me was that these were I T (guys mostly) so you can imagine the clash when I showed up looking a lot like Hilary Clinton in my best pantsuit and makeup to talk to an group of 20-30 something males in alternative styles or at least very casual, baggy, shorts and t shirts.

As I "infiltrated" their small table discussions I realized that these hyper intellect types may not be the most socially well adjusted members of our culture but they may rule it someday if they don't already...a least from behind the scenes on their little laptops.

I decided to jump right in and try and engage some of them, it took a while esp with them snickering politely as I asked them to explain some of the acronyms they were using but all in all they were pretty good eggs and polite once you get their attention!

One 20 something was saying that he couldn't stand the concept of a CD because you actually had to store, go get, and "play" it to hear music. I realized then that we are starting to "live" in the context of a 14x11 inch glowing screen.

Computers are no longer a tool, they are a place we live, learn, relate, and listen to music.

That box is too small for me....yet here I am talking to you in it?!

Do we live here now?

Butchering the weather

2008-09-01T19:09:00.000-07:00

I'm a shopper and when I was planning Rod's birthday this year and wanted to BBQ good steak and I couldn't resist the bargain of buying top sirloin, uncut.
I figured how hard can it be to chop it up into some steaks myself...I mean my family butchered their own beef, (not a good memory by the way), surely I could cut some up.

What I didn't figure on was how overwhelming getting a big 10 lb hunk of bloody beef out on the counter and trying to cut it up with dull knives would be.
You can't just start chopping it up you know, you have to cut it just the right way so it falls into steaks and not stringy ropes of tough beef.

But worst of all was the sickening site of that much blood and muscle in my kitchen. I lost may appetite for the two days I was working on it. I told my kids I felt like a cannibal in his kitchen chopping up the latest victim! Normally I would have enlisted Rod but I was determined to do all I could for his birthday myself, I mean who wants to do all the work for their own birthday!
Now I know why butchers have jobs and get paid to do this stuff. I don't know how they have any appetite to eat when they get home at night....maybe you get used to it?
I cut off one steak and tried marinading it and cooking it the next day to see how tender it was....not bad but the marinade was iffy. I learned a lot by asking people and finally came up with a good "rub" of salt, pepper, and GRANULATED garlic. It turned out yummy.

Good thing the food was good because the weather was over 100 and the AC broke that morning. Puts a whole new spin to the expresssion "we had a HOT time" The AC is fixed now of course and we haven't had a hot day since. ..which proves my theory that I can control hot weather.

What I do is make a GALLON of ice tea and buy a LARGE watermelon. (smaller amounts do not work because the weather gods know you can eat and drink those amounts before they ferment in your frig.) Somebody out there must have bought some BIG melons during that hot weather for it to be only 68 degrees on Labor Day today.

Rod and I LIKE hot weather but if you don't, I have just shared with you a time tested way to cool things off. It may only work in Oregon however.

"Left to Tell"

2008-08-13T14:54:00.000-07:00

I cannot abide violence in movies, books, and esp real life.

Our family witnessed a serious, broadside accident years ago.
I was amazed at how I reacted. I have always had a pretty "cool" head in emergencies but I froze. Rod said call 911 and ran ahead...I couldn't get a call through the first time because my hands were shaking so hard.

No one was killed or seriously hurt but with one car upside down in a ditch they were lucky. I did stay with the young mom and her baby in the ditch while we waited for help.

So, when my sister in law, Nancy wanted me to read the book, "Left to Tell" by Immaculee Ilibagiza about her survival of the Rwandan holocaust I knew it wasn't the kind of book I could handle. At her urging I did look at it one night though and then could not put it down.
The violence was overshadowed by God's might and power in this young woman's life and those she hid with. It turned a gruesome story into one of victory and hope. I actually felt more hopeful after reading it than I did before.
I am at a loss to understand why these things happen under God's knowledge and mercy but history is rife with stories like this and all seem to repeat the same themes:
prejudice, generational revenge, unworldly hate, unbridled violence against even the most innocent, and lack of remorse.

Since these scenarios have and will continue to repeat themselves over and over it is important we come to grips with the patterns of behavior in this world we live in and the depths that human beings will sink to. Yet, God's light, mercy, and love shine the brightest when seen against the darkest back drops of humanity. In Him there will always be hope for the nations.

"These are the things you shall do: Zechariah 8:16-17
Speak each man the truth to his neighbor
Give judgement in your gates for truth, justice, and peace
Let none of you think evil in your heart against your neighbor"

The Perfect Summer Day

2008-08-12T19:26:00.000-07:00

What is your definition of a "perfect summer day"?
My definition is a summer day that starts out sunny but cool and ends with a high of 80- 85. Just warm enough but not too hot. As long as you don't have to be out physically laboring in the hottest part of the day it is just perfect.

I wake up to the sun streaming in my bedroom and lots of neighborhood noise through the window I left open all night. I throw my covers all the way back, throw open the window all the way and let summer do its magic on my whole bedroom, leaving it fresh and crisp when I return for another balmy night's sleep that night.
I like it warm enough to enjoy iced tea and a BBQ after work but probably not hot enough to get the mosquitos going.
The evenings of such days here in the Portland area are still warm enough for a brisk walk with the dog but not humid. Walking through the neighborhoods, open doors seem to bring us all together and no one seems too worried about someone bursting into their home uninvited but then you read that it does happen even in good neighborhoods sometimes.

Still , I like the relaxed attitude of those open doors in a neighborhood where that kind of crime is usually unlikely. Why, if someone started something, half the neighborhood would respond because their doors were open too.

I don't really care about heavy weeding or planting at this point, as long as someone mows the lawn and the watering system keeps it watered one can just finally enjoy the yard. Raspberries, strawberries, and a few blueberries hang waiting for a leisure stroller to pluck them from their stems, flowers burst in color and fragrance now with so little effort. Tomato vines show evidence of soon to be enjoyed red fruit, sliced on a platter next to whatever gets BBQed that night. These are the high rewards of gardening.

Maybe it is the warmth and the longer evenings with daylight lasting as late as 9:30, but these are my favorite days of the year.

Summer doesn't start til after the 4th?

2008-07-30T14:28:00.000-07:00

Blogging must be what I do to stay in touch when the weather is bad and the skies are grey because I have been much too busy enjoying this summer weather we waited so long for to sit down and blog. Is anybody out there still reading this??!!

Let's see, since I last blogged I have :

Been to the beach with Rod and my two adult daughters

Camped with all my children (sounds like a soap!) at the annual Cooper campout in central OR

Hosted a Indian food potluck at my house last night

Still to come is:

Trip to TroutLake Wa this weekend

(maybe get back in time for our little parade and festival in the park here in town)

Annual church campout at the beach

Rod and Erin's birthday bashes

Labor Day family weekend plans

Whew....so many things to cram into the few weeks we call summer in Oregon.

My Mom Zona used to always tell us when we would complain about the cold weather in June, "Now you know that summer doesn't come to Oregon til after the 4th of July"

The problem is that shortly after the 4th you start seeing summer clearances and school supplies in the stores! That is just WRONG

What is summer like at your place?

graduation to murder mystery dinners

2008-06-10T17:35:00.000-07:00

We spent last weekend in Seattle to celebrate our family's third and FINAL college graduation from Seattle Pacific U. We watched daughter Bethany file in with all the other college grads under leaden NW skies while we watched from the stands of Quest outdoor stadium, wrapped in our raincoats and scarves....probably the coldest June in the history of the Pacific NW.

The rain did hold off however. I am always amazed at how hardy Portlanders and Seattlites are, wrapped in their Eddie Bauer water proof coats and shoes, noshing on trail mix and starbucks coffee. They have a good time wherever they go and live in houses so cold in the winter that one wonders why they even bother to come inside! Rod and I believe a hot fire in the fireplace , coffee or tea, and a good book is the way to cope.

The bittersweet goodbyes to Bethany's college friends and their families is always hard..I know we will never see as much of them now as we have been used to as they go their separate ways.

Bethany drove herself home since we were heading over to Eastern Washington to visit with my brother Bud and his wife Millie. She was hurrying home to help friends launch their new business: sherlockathome@yahoo.com. Four exceptional college kids putting on a mulitcourse gourmet meal while you and your guests act out a murder mystery. Never will you have better food or a better time. About the time people find out about them they will realize how much work this kind of business is or maybe it will become a successful franchise...yet another way to survive living in this cold and wet part of the U.S!

Wow!

2008-05-29T23:50:00.000-07:00

I ran across this picture today, not sure how it could happen since the wall of the uterus is between the baby's foot and the mom's skin, but then the uterus wall has thinned out a lot at this point in pregnancy. Such were the wonders witnessed by those of us once in the medical field...I give you a little look back at that part of my life and my "today" in the previous 2 blogs.

30 years is a long time

2008-05-29T22:55:00.000-07:00

The things that happened in the 70's, college, dating, marriage etc...used to seem not too long ago but somewhere in the last few years they have started feeling dimmer and less relevant....memories of highschool in central Oregon, nursing school, and even the years as an RN...just a memory now after almost as many years at home and now 12 years in the insurance business.

In my cleaning out last month I ran across a story I wrote in nursing school about 35 years ago. I think I wrote it just as a memoir of that time in my life. Rod said I should share it and he retyped it off of the faint eraseable typing paper it was typed on so I wouldn't have an excuse not to publish it. I called it "698" Here it is.
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“You’d better watch that one in 698 tonight. We took off his restraints because he fought them so, but now he’ll need a close watch to see that he doesn’t climb out of bed.”

This is how I was greeted by the swing shift student who was preparing to give over to my care the noisiest and most boisterous patient of her shift, along with the other fifteen patients on the small east floor. These patients, total strangers to me and from every walk of life, were to become the responsibility of myself and the R.N. for the rest of the long night ahead. They would trust us for the most intimate and personal attention, care, and assistance, if not their very lives. I would be doing most of their physical care and must meet their needs without the slightest attitude of distaste or embarrassment, and above all, approach each one with concern and compassion. Needs would be met, whether it would be emptying a bedpan, or just stopping to listen and trying to understand. This was what I would expect of myself. These were the factors that would set me apart as a professional in the field I had chosen.

Somehow, as I stood there listening to a report of the busy previous shift, already weary from a busy week of clinical work, study, and exams; the bit of a weekend I had enjoyed seemed far from sufficient. I wasn’t at all sure that these people (strangers at that) deserved professional effort. After all, this wasn’t scheduled clinical experience. There would be no C.I. (clinical instructor) evaluating me. This was just weekend work; the one area of nursing that bought my weekly tuna fish and bread.

Such were the thoughts that tumbled recklessly through my brain. Nevertheless, the next thirty minutes found me making rounds. In one hand was a time schedule coordinating various duties such as taking blood pressures, temperatures, and tube feedings; and in the other hand, a flashlight. These tools would help me coordinate bed and body with room number and problem.

Slowly, each patient began to take their place in my mind. My flashlight passed over bodies positioned with pillows, limbs supported and suspended, and drainage tubes leading under covers to unknown sutured areas and cavities.

One after another, they registered in my mind, until stopping on one large white, thermal lump. There was nothing particularly unusual about this patient at first glance, except his size. He appeared larger than the average five foot six inch patient looks in contrast to the long seven foot beds. As my eyes fed my brain the information the number of tubes, coloring, etc, I was forced to pause a bit as the halo of yellow light revealed his face. I think what really caught my attention was the beard. Yes, it was definitely the beard; the snowiest, softest, most grandfather-like beard ever seen. A closer inspection revealed strands of blue-silver woven through it. It hung from eyes, the corners of which bore marks of either laughter or strain. The dimness of the lighting would not distinguish the difference. His cheeks were so ruddy and wind-worn I could not help but wonder what life would cause such a glow of strength to radiate from one’s face. The beard continued to flow softly down to caress bowed lips of similar ruddiness; full and red, with the kind of tenderness that one remembers touching your own forehead somewhere, sometime, long ago.

The hands were browned and toughened by work and sun. Joints were swollen and fingers were curled with stiffness from the years of hard work required of them. Realizing that this old elf was in reality a retired farmer, who’s greatest concern was his goats; I couldn’t help but think that those same stiffened hands had probably caressed and cared for those goats, perhaps helping bring some into the world. What a sad way to repay such hands, with stiffness and soreness. How beautifully those hands bore the scars of service.

This person was 698. In his present resting state, it was hard to see him as the boisterous, troublesome patient described to me earlier. No doubt, when aroused, he would prove true to the symptoms of senility and confusion, and fulfill the role he was to play that night. After such a revelation as I had just experienced or fantasized, I knew that my care for him would indeed include all the patience, concern, and yes, even a little love that makes the difference between real nursing and tuna fish and bread money.

People or stuff?

2008-05-29T22:08:00.000-07:00

I wonder if anyone is still reading this blog as I have been cleaning out my upstairs, thinning out old clothing and books.
I sent about 12 boxes of books home with my son and daughter in law this last weekend for a book exchange they know about at some of the Seattle area churches. God must have given me divine grace and strength to get rid of so much....it feels like a death, I thot sure I would teach from those books or someone would need them, but there doesn't seem to be much interest out there in the experience of other generations...the new marriages and new parents appear to be getting their information from their own peer groups...and maybe a new book that has either an untested theory or a repackaging of some of the principles by great family teachers such as Dr James Dobson.

When I became a mother, I could not read enough books or go to enough Bible studies on home and family. My mom, mature womens' Bible study leaders, and Dr Dobson on the radio kept my marriage and parenting ship on course. Maybe at least the books will get read now that they are back in circulation?

Some of the kids clothes I had kept out of sentiment but most of that I gave or threw away too.
I am relieved to have those rooms cleaned out yet I feel as depressed as relieved? It is like nothing matters anymore and no one cares about keeping anything. I can't keep it all so out it goes...like those years of my life and the things that documented them are also of no value or interest to anyone.
But having gone through my deceased Mom's house just a year ago I know that I must hold lightly and live lightly....I just haven't found the joy in that yet...at least grandbaby Micah has an uncluttered room for his crib now when he comes...I kept telling myself, "Your kids or the stuff?"

Still have a garage full of my Mom's things but maybe this experience will give me the courage to tackle that one of these days with new perspective... and someday the joy?

Living in it

2008-05-07T15:06:00.000-07:00

As Rod and I were hurtling into downtown Portland for our weekly business professionals' meeting I was thinking about how the world we live in has changed so much just in the last few months. Oil products are at highs I wouldn't have believed just 2 years ago along with groceries. It seemed a little overwhelming to me at that time of day, esp. on top of the angst we feel sharing business space with the new "lingerie modeling" business that moved in next door to our insurance office a few months ago.

I realized that I get overwhelmed when I feel my environment is beyond my control. Control is the real issue and yet when you think about it, we are only asked to change those things that we have been given power over. God has asked generations of people to live in immoral or economically bankrupt cultures, the fact that we have not faced many of these challenges in America is proof that we have been living in an exceptionally protected life.

This is a critical perspective if we are to continue living in the joy and peace that God offers us because we know that He is able to provide for us and change the world through us in His time. My job is to let Him do that.

Somedays when I leave my office and look back at the "girly" business right next door I pray, "God you do the hard stuff (change hearts and lives) and I will do the easy stuff (love people, pray for them), and be proactive to change any law I have influence over.

Certainly voting is the least of that control...I have no patience for Christians who feel getting informed and voting is someone else's job. (If your parents gave you that value you need to examine it because it is slothful and I don't think God is pleased with it. What a slap in the face for those who fought and died in 2 world wars to secure those freedoms!

I was thinking as cars whizzed along that sometimes unexpected good comes from these things like less SUVs and double cab trucks causing fatalities to those of us in smaller, lower, cars...and less gas consumption and alternative fuel could mean cleaner air, esp in places like LA someday.

So I turned to Rod and said, "You know, God is the one who has put us HERE at THIS time in history, all He asks us to do is just live one day at a time in His grace and strength....some how I believe He is and will always be ENOUGH for us to live with joy and peace in this uncertain world.

a perfect day

2008-04-12T21:26:00.000-07:00

What makes a perfect day? Today was one of them. My first grandchild, Micah came down from Seattle to celebrate his first birthday. Who would have thought that we would have the nicest day weather wise today too. Last time I looked it was low 80's...thank you God after this cold spring.
The day started out with crunchy french toast, bacon and orange juice, then the party with Salem family in Woodburn, then on to the outlet mall for some leisurely shopping in the WARM summer like sun!!! Who cares if the freeway exits were backed up to Kazoo!
Then home again to red beans and ham cooking on the stove and berry cobbler with ice cream.

It was almost perfect except the iced tea that I usually make in my coffeemaker was very COFFEE tasting, REALLY coffee tasting, I was perplexed until I realized I had left coffee grounds in the basket from breakfast....well it was ALMOST a perfect day :)

Scarves

2008-03-30T16:48:00.000-07:00

I have a new found appreciation for warm scarves this year. It seems like I started wearing them earlier than normal, somedays I wear them ALL day, and I am still wearing them now in what is supposed to be spring?

I have a couple of favorites. One is silk with warm and muliticolored stripes. It seems to go with anything I throw on. The others are warmer like the rust and pinkish chenille that feels like a soft baby blanket about my face. I even took one up stairs to wear while I read at night.

There have been many days when I never took my scarf off all day...I wonder what our clients must think as I sit at my desk at work tapping away on my computer "muffed" up like an Eskimo. It started when our heat would be off in January as we arrived at work so it would take hours to get the office warm....then it just felt nice to not have the draft on my neck and shoulders. Rod says it is old age creeping upon me....that's why old ladies wore shawls?

The cold wet weather started earlier this year and is lasting much longer than usual..so I am still wearing scarves and just bought some more on winter clearance.

I have enjoyed my nice scarf collection, they have become something of a fashion statement now for me...something to look forward to next year when the chill returns. I will have new ones to pull out and tuck about my neck line, insulating me from that cold bite as I brave my way from the car into the warm coffee shop for a steaming cup of "winter courage".

Book Club Night

2008-03-10T23:56:00.000-07:00

I went to my monthly book club tonight to discuss our last book, "How the Irish Saved Civilization" This book would be worth its aquisition if all you did was read the two chapters on St Patrick, the young Brit taken as a slave to Ireland only to return bringing a gospel that would transform this backward, barbaric country into a civilized haven that preserved hundreds of years of knowledge that would have been lost after the fall of Rome and most of the civilized world of the day.
If you get the book, don't be put off by the stuffy college level literature references,
just skip what you want and press on because there is some great info that you may never read anywhere else. There is so much more I want to know about and understand after reading this book...such as St Augustine....did you know there were two? One evangelized the people who became the Germans? Everywhere you look in history God's truth shows up.

Besides the lively conversation over this weighty but facinating book, we dined on Irish Soda bread, corn beef sandwitches, and other "green" themed foods. Our next book will be a mystery..as good as this last one was we are ready for a light read.

My Space

2008-03-03T19:52:00.000-08:00

I found something that works for me this new year.

I really hate that I cannot get my house and things organized and often get overwhelmed rather than tackling the job. I just read the paper and fall into bed night after night.

But, one cold January evening this year, I though, "why not just start by focusing on "my space", that is, areas that I personally use everyday. So I started with my underwear drawer.

I hate digging through a drawer to find something, esp early on a cold morning with little between me and the "elements" I decided that evening to dump out my drawer, thin out what I don't wear and organize what was left. It didn't take me as long as I thot, in fact I was so pleased with my nice fresh drawer that I dusted the top of the chest and reorganized my jewelry boxes and perfume. It didn't get my whole life in order but I loved getting dressed the next morning and it gave me energy to tackle other "little" projects.

This last Saturday it was too cold to work outside so I thot, "What area downstairs do I use the most?" I decided it was the kitchen sink. So I scrubbed it clean, washed the window above it and took down the blinds and washed the grime I had been seeing everytime I rinsed dishes for the dishwasher....didn't wash all the windows...just the one I look out of the most. Then I wiped down the counters and cleaned the top of the range really well. Guess what, getting up and going down to the kitchen was more fun the next morning.

I think part of what makes this work is that you are showing value and respect to yourself when you take care of "your space", when we don't, we are in a way saying that the person we are and what we do everyday does not count.

I work hard and give a lot. I think nice people like myself should get up in the mornings to tidy underwear drawers, sweet perfume, and clean kitchen windows to look out of. Those areas speak value to me everyday now and give me more energy to tackle other areas....my space feels good! What are your spaces?

Here's a link about drawers to get you started:
http://www.ehow.com/how_2143543_organize-lingerie-drawer.html

Robin Requiem

2008-02-26T19:34:00.000-08:00

I was home today in time to enjoy the cool but sunny weather in the backyard.

Being my first sunny day home this year I was so focused on getting a grip on the mud luvin weeds that I was startled to see a dead robin at my feet.

It was perfect, I thought at first maybe just stunned but the knarled feet told me it had been there a bit.
I would have been thrilled just to see a robin this early in the year so my heart sank to see his beautiful life ended on such a promise day.

I never know what to do with dead things like that....I hate to leave them out to the elements, cats, etc...so you can imagine my consternation to step a few feet to one side and see yet another identical dead robin not more than a foot from where the first had fallen. Their death is a mystery but may have to do with the clear glass windbreak that we built to cut the wind on the little brick patio where I found them.

These were the only birds I saw today, dead birds, beautiful birds...I finally put them in a paper sack and entrusted them to Rod who handles these things for me. I don't want to bury anything else this year!

Looking at these two lifeless creatures, lovely and vibrant just hours ago made death seem so unavoidable and in my face, maybe because of my own losses this year?
I am working through the thought of both of my parents' bodies being under the ground... even though I have the most real assurance that their "person" is with God and that I will see them again.
Maybe to most the picture above is just a couple of dead birds?
Maybe you had to be there, touch the exquisite, velvet, feather tapestry of their red underbody. What comes to your mind?

Micah W and Janet Huckabee meet, plus primary blues

2008-02-13T15:31:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know I already sent this out on email but for those of you who don't get my emails I wanted to show you a picture of Janet Huckabee holding my grandson Micah .

My son J.R. and his wife Jen decided to go to the Huckabee ralley in Seattle last weekend and had to sit on the floor in the front. Evidently Janet Huckabee noticed Micah and picked him up..I had to show you the evidence :) Sorry it is only his back but Fox news probably has the good pic somewhere in their files of pics they didn't publish :(

On the bigger pic below you can see MY baby's face, Micah's dad, J.R. ,right over the top of Janet Huckabee's hand. Mama Jen didn't get in the picture, not fair!

Interesting note on the campaign that Dr. James Dobson has endorsed Huckabee and has some concerns about McCain. I quote:

"Dobson criticized McCain for his support of embryonic stem cell research, his opposition to a federal anti-gay marriage amendment and for his temper and use of foul language. He said he'd sit out the presidential election if McCain were the nominee."

I was surprised at how strong he felt esp. with the next supreme court nominations in the balance, I am not sure I could take that hard of a line.

I am also interested in talk about having a "national primary" in the future so we ALL get equal chance at choosing the candidates....those of us on the west coast really don't get much say until the east coast has narrowed it down for us....doesn't seem fair. What do you think?

Down the road

2008-02-03T17:28:00.000-08:00

This is the view of the road ahead coming home south on I5 near Kelso Wa. today. We were coming out of rain into a clearing ahead and I thought the cloud formations were stunning with the sun illuminating them from the west.

Rod had no faith in my cell phone photo through the dirty windshield...I think it turned out rather well don't you?

This shot with its contrasts could represent some part of life....maybe it feels like something you are going through right now, or an outcome you are hoping for? Rest your eyes on it for a minute and tell me what feelings and thoughts come to mind.

For Carolyn

2008-01-24T21:11:00.000-08:00

Carolyn, I had no idea you were still reading my blog...I thot sure now that such a nice young man has captured your time that I and my blog were history, so I was flattered by your comment.

We had a murder mystery dinner at our house last weekend. We took the leap years ago and hosted one for our friends after finding the game at a garage sale. It has become somewhat of a winter tradition now, esp among some of our friends and even our daughter's friends.
Daughter Bethany drove down from college in Seattle and she and her friends put on a delightful evening for all of their parents.
I enjoyed having such a great bunch of young adults in my kitchen all afternoon, chopping, baking and simmering...Chef Blake, you have done it again.
Carolyn's Mom and husband were two of the distinguished guests, her Mom, Linda, dressed her part as a famous actress, husband Don was the carefree fisherman. What fun to look forward and enjoy such an evening...winter needs more of these delightful breaks from the ongoing responsibilities of adulthood. Thanks kids...it was a gift!
Here are some scenes from that evening...the evening did NOT include alcohol...we had a fine time without it don't you think?

Busyness

2008-01-20T23:14:00.001-08:00

I read a quote from Eugene Peterson this week that I have been thinking about.
He said, "Busyness is the enemy of spirituality. It is essentially laziness. It is doing the lazy thing instead of the hard thing."
I just finished a short stint teaching the teenagers at church. We have been studying the book of James in the Bible and the first chapter talks about how God's word is like a mirror that reflects back to us what our inside person looks like.
I had each one count up in their head how many mirrors they could think of in their house and cars, purse, etc. (over twenty here at my house) Then I had them count how many Bibles their family owned. Guess what, the mirrors won... but worse yet is how many times a day we check out our physical reflection compared to looking into the Word at our eternal reflection....too busy to examine the eternal but ever checking the temporal, diligently monitoring its decay? This challenges me...you?

Pandora evenings

2007-12-31T19:23:00.000-08:00

My new favorite thing on these cold and dark evenings is to close the blinds, build a fire and light a big fat candle for the middle of the dinner table. Then I put out whatever we are cooking or reheating for dinner and put on Pandora on my laptop....a website that lets you create your own "radio stations" custom designed with the music, artists and styles you like. You can sign up free at: http://www.pandora.com/

I am so enjoying listening to songs I have not heard for years and finding new artists that are similar to those I already like. Now I prepare dinner to James Taylor, Carol King, The Carpenters, Olivia Newton John, Roberta Flack, even Huey Lewis and the News! Rod's Pandora is more instrumental with stations like jazz, piano, classical, blue grass and some strange techno stuff that he likes. I will say that his music works better for dinner; mine after dinner.

We also have some good praise music like Hillsong but I am enjoying catching up with some of my old favorites right now. It's nice to have music in the house again, I had given up trying to find music I liked on the radio years ago. What a difference to do the things we do on these cold winter evenings with great music to lift our spirits and add some energy.

This is New Years Eve and we passed on parties to enjoy a relaxing evening with our books and music...maybe we will watch an old movie or play a game before midnight but I know I will be in bed soon after if not before...these days I look forward to waking up rested and enjoying my first cup of coffee on New Years Day more than being out in the cold and on the roads...although last year we did have fun playing games at a party.

Having the kids home for Christmas, including new grandbaby Micah kept me too busy to blog.
How is your post holiday time going? How are you coping with the dark evenings and cold?
Maybe you need one of these Micah guys to cheer you up? :)

Butcher paper thanks

2007-12-15T21:37:00.001-08:00

Remember back before Thanksgiving I was musing over my desire to bring the focus of Thanksgiving back to our blessings?
Well, I tried one of the ideas I had read....a poster, butcher paper, on the stairway closet door with a marker attached. Family and guests were invited to write in things throughout the holiday...one I always forget is really quite long...4 days.

The hard part was finding pictures...even of food which I was trying to downplay. I commissioned new son in law Dan to draw the church at the bottom.
It became obvious that Thanksgiving has become a "blip" between Halloween and Christmas, mostly ignored by our commercial world...even Christian publications were strangely vacant of Thanksgiving pictures!

Interesting that we downplay a holiday about being thankful so we get on with a holiday about getting more things? hmmm.

Anyway, it was a good focus and as you can see it caused some good direction of thought.
I hope others will try it next year....maybe put it in the back of your 2007 calendar for Nov 2008?

"When there is no hope, one must invent hope"?

2007-12-06T16:14:00.000-08:00

The above drawing is by Ala, Age 13

Like many other children, Ala witnessed conflict between rebel groups and the Janjaweed. This drawing depicts a rebel soldier first shot in the arm, then executed by gunshots to the groin. Ali, a teacher in a refugee camp, said the rebels are killed this way to emasculate them. "They [the Janjaweed] know what they are doing," he said. "They are doing it with purpose."

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Many blog ideas have been circling my head the last few weeks, (oh and I did get my clean clothes all put away...I don't regret giving that time to ME). I want to talk about the effect of winter light deprivation and the depression and lack of energy, and some of the cool things people are doing to combat that...maybe in January I will get to it.

What got me out of my chair and here at the computer today however was what I just read in the paper today. It was in the TV section about the HBO special tonight on the African Sudanese crisis of Darfur that George Clooney will narrate on HBO called "Sand and Sorrow".

It chronicles the genocide of Arabic nomad Africans against non arabic black farmers. These arabs want to drive all the non arabs out and torture, killing innocent women and children , and other heinous acts seem to be perfectly ok from their viewpoint...maybe even fun? I cannot watch this as we do not have cable but a few things caught my eye in the article.

*400,000 people have died in Darfur...met by a giant international shrug

(If this many have died, imagine how many are maimed and/or refugees?)

*The media's response in 2006: ABC: 18 minutes, NBC: 5 minutes, CBS 3 minutes

(Martha Stewart got 130 minutes)

*Researchers who have gone to Africa to document this took paper, crayons, and pencils to "keep the children occupied" while they interviewed adults. The results were graphic drawings of what the children had been through and witnessed...many of these drawings now are on display on a national tour here in the US.

The quote in my title is by a french philosopher Albert Camus...and is used in the article in the context that something must be done to get the world past this passive "yawn" attitude towards such suffering.

I have heard that some evangelical churches are encouraging their congregations to limit Christmas spending on self and family this year and instead as a church, take on projects in places like Africa to provide life sustaining relief such as paying for a well to be drilled for a village without clean water to drink.

We have already taken steps to limit Christmas spending this year and I have already written a check to help orphans in this area of Africa, http://www.lahash.net/ ,but I can and want to do more.

Maybe the question to ask ourselves this Christmas is , "What would Jesus do?"

When did I start living this way?

2007-11-15T21:20:00.000-08:00

I have so much I want to blog about but I still have clean laundry in baskets in my room. Actually I can't remember the last time I didn't have them in my room. This is not the way I want to live!
I was able to watch an Oprah today and it was about people who are hoarders and clutter bugs...my space looks pretty normal but it frightens me that I might end up like that when my mind goes (anytime now?)

This week was significant however, I went to Sally's beauty supply and they offered me a discount card, only $2.50 if you are 55 or older. I told them I would be 55 in February so they went ahead and gave me the deal. I was thrilled til I got home and realized I had just received my first "over 55 senior discount"! That was a little sobering. I am not sure I am ready for this.

I hope my future involves a lot of jewelry and travel...to compensate? Actually I probably get more fulfillment from teaching ESL and investing in other people but I like to talk about the travel and jewelry...even tho I wear very little of it.

I bought a really big frozen turkey tonight...I apologized to him as I pushed out the automatic
doors, too bad he had to die for us to feast next week..Daughter Bethany wants to be a vegetarian but she can't figure out how to give up hams, turkey, chicken, and occasional beef?
We both love animals and probably would turn into vegans if we had to kill them ourselves.
Does that make us meat hungry hypocrites? I'm looking forward to a kinder heaven someday.

I would like to mediatate more on what I am thankful for instead of the meal...but the meal takes a lot of planning. Surely Thanksgiving wasn't meant to be about football and food...(interesting that the super bowl is not enough for most Americans) Any of you found ways to bring back Godly thankfulness to this beautiful holiday?

Future commander and chief?

2007-11-08T13:12:00.000-08:00

I borrowed this from Betty's blog - It'sboopchile@blogspot.com.

It is apparently several pres. candidates standing for the flag salute. Obama not only did not put his hand over his heart, he also did not recite the pledge.

I am seeing more and more people refusing to honor the flag or pledge. Many of them are younger so I try not to judge them for their IGNORANCE of what we have here and the human suffering that bought it.
But to have a pres candidate in that ignorant group!!
What is he thinking??...he wants to be the future commander and chief?

I will say I support his right here in America to make that choice, maybe that is something one should "salute"?

Something different

2007-11-01T18:06:00.000-07:00

I watched the PBS special this week on Charles Schultz, the creator of the comic strip "Peanuts". I was looking forward to having something to do while Rod was away overnight being evaluated for sleep apnea.

I became so fascinated with watching the artist sketch his strip that when it was over I got the urge to sketch someone.

Since Rod was gone, I attempted to sketch myself on some notebook paper while looking into the bathroom mirror.

You can see my results to the left here, I don't share this because it is so good, I really have never had any training in sketching but I was surprised at the incredible passion I felt doing this...it was like my mind and body had been chained to a desk and computer or kitchen for years and suddenly my creative side just came busting out! To re create something from my eyes to brain to hand to notebook, it was magical! What is simmering deep down inside you? Maybe the rest of us need what God has put there. Let it out!

Hi, My name is _____....and I blog

2007-10-24T14:25:00.000-07:00

I have purposely not posted anything for a few days as I was becoming concerned at how much time this whole blogging thing is taking up! Let's just say there are things around the house that really need to be addressed and I find myself blogging instead of addressing them.

Which has made me analyze some as to why people blog or read blogs.
I know for me it has been a way to get my feelings and thots out and be heard. It has also been a way of "connecting" with a community...in a sort of "sterile" way but still a connection is it not?

So, I want to keep that connection but keep the balance of a clean house, physical exercise, Bible study and prayer, ministry, and time for face to face, or at least voice to voice interaction.
I have devised a little test to determine if blogging is enhancing or consuming our lives:

1. The first thing I do when I arrive home is check the puter for comments on my blog
or check in on my favorite blogs to see if they have any new posts.

2. I blog or read other blogs late at night when I should be sleeping

3. I blog or read other blogs instead of preparing meals or doing basic cleaning

4. The subject that I blog tends to come up in most casual or even some business conversations.

5. I substitute writing or reading blogs for real human interaction most of the time.

6. I spend more time writing or reading blogs than I do in devotions each week.

7. I become frustrated when other blogs I know have more comments than mine.

I would say if we can say yes to TWO or more of these statements that we might want to re evaluate time given to blogging.

Do you disagree; do you think there are other questions we could add to the list?
What do you neglect so you can blog? At what point would it be defined as an "addiction"?

A new "understanding"

2007-10-11T17:19:00.000-07:00

They came and cleaned our carpets yesterday. It had been a long time since we had the upstairs done, and I can't believe how clean they got everything...even old stains I had given up on including some red fingernail polish one of the girls dropped right in front of the guest sink of course. It is nice to look down at clean, fresh pile under my "standing".

I like to get carpets cleaned in the fall because if I am going to be inside a lot I want the carpets and windows to be clean. Didn't get to the windows this year but they look pretty good for some reason and I have had more pressing matters.

I feel like I am in a warp of pressing matters and wonder if this is how life is going to be , but then I think of all the things that have happened this year, wedding, funeral, birth, church crisis....I have a different idea of what normal should be.

We taught our 3rd ESL class last night. Every class our attendance has doubled, we are up to 8 now and 4 helpers. Yesterday it was the last and best part of a day that began at 5:30 am and ended about 10:30pm I wish I could get paid to do that instead of what I do. Maybe it is just because it is different? What would you like to get paid to do?

Tackyween

2007-10-04T13:10:00.000-07:00

If I had awakened from a coma I could swear it was mid November if I went only by the weather. I am wondering what kind of winter we are going to have...maybe lots of snow judging from all this early rain and such a cool summer? What do you think?

I saw the first "Tackyween" blow ups today in a yard.

Guess you know what I think by the name but perhaps some of you find them cute and fun? I have never heard what kids think....maybe they really like them.

I could bear Halloween if they would not make them for Christmas, that's when I start having visions of me and a pellet gun at 2 am.....sorry but how many more ways can we commercialize Christmas....I love the lights and "tasteful" decorations but we have hit a new low the last few years...Lord deliver us from plastic blowups!!! I was surprised to see that many of these cost between $75 and $100. Seems like the same money could buy something wonderful and more enduring....like a new lawn mower and some bark dust for some of these sleezy yards...but I digress.

Today the sun finally won and is shining on my potted plants outside the window...I really like the red streaked grass I potted, it will be nice to look at all winter when everything else is green on green and blossoms are something not seen til spring comes back.

How's your October going?

Birds of a feather...

2007-09-21T22:33:00.000-07:00

We had a rare treat this week. Daughter Erin invited us to come to NW Portland to watch the Swifts swarm into a large chimney at Chapman grade school.

These little birds stay in flight all day eating insects and then at dusk congregate from miles up in the sky to dive bomb into this large unused chimney every dusk for several weeks until they continue their migration to Central and South America for the winter. They cannot perch like a normal bird during the day but they can cling to the inside walls of the chimney and evidently to each other. How tired and warm they must be after an average day in the air!

30 -40,000 birds cramming into one chimney brings a whole community of people out at dusk with their lawn chairs, blankets, dogs, supper and kids to watch this nightly event.

Cheers were heard as the last of the birds joined the main swirl into the chimney, boos and gasps as a hawk tried to swoop in for an easy supper 3 times.

We took friends back the next night...no movie theater could have offered such a show.

It was a natural air show of choreography, cooperation, and beauty. I can see God creating it to the orchestration of majestic music.

Pet Rules or Pets Rule?

2007-09-12T20:16:00.000-07:00

My sister in St Louis sent this text in an email fwd.
I will share it for any other pet lovers.

PET RULES To be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door - nose height.

Dear Dogs and Cats,

*The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

* The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run. *I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm

*For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years --canine or feline attendance is not required.

*The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!

To All Non-Pet Owners Who Visit & Like to Complain About Our Pets:

1. They live here. You don't.

2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. (That's why they call it "fur"niture.)

3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.

4. To you, it's an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly.

(I still know the difference between people and animals but still a cute article don't you think?)

Water, water, everywhere.....

2007-09-03T23:29:00.000-07:00

Just got back from Orcus Island, one of the San Juan Islands. Thinking back on what draws me back to that island I think it must be the water. It is about as close to the water as I get and I love it. The ferry ride over, the view of the water, building a fire on the beach.

Speaking of water, we shut off the water here at the house just to be safe this time only to come home to a flooded laundry room and tiles buckled and warped. I was just dreading unpacking the food for 6 people after 5 hours on the freeway but instead we were ankle deep in wet towels and moving heavy appliances around trying to mop up and dry the subfloor.

Windows open, fans on, 24 hours later we are ready to glue the tile back down.

What happened? All we know is the new washer was full to the brim with cold clear water and I had not turned it on before leaving. Maybe some sort of reaction to the sudden loss of pressure?

If you know about these things please comment, we don't want to repeat this!

Bye Bye Baby

2007-08-16T23:02:00.000-07:00

We dropped off our youngest daughter at the airport tonight to fly by herself on a red eye flight to study in Mexico for a month.

I don't know why my daughters are so independent! I have told them all the horror stories of young women traveling alone and yet they plan these trips to foreign countries by themselves and expect me to be happy for them. They usually have a pretty good plan once they get there that includes host homes or other people but I hate putting them on that plane alone.

They are of age now and save up their money for these adventures plus work for their tuition so I ask God to go with them and watch out for all the things that we parents know could happen esp to a young woman traveling alone. My mother worried about me at that age but at least I traveled with other people.

I have decided they have inherited their grandmother's genetics, both of which had more confidence than good sense at times. I know it isn't my genetics because I like to travel with people I know...I am terrified of being alone in this world. I also think it is just plain unwise for anyone to travel alone unless it is really necessary.

If all goes as planned I will get a call sometime tomorrow from her. This is her year to travel so if you want to live with a host family in Mexico and study Spanish and later this year travel and study in Scotland, Ireland, and England go to her new travel blog on my links; http://www.atimetotravel.blogspot.com/

The last glowing ember

2007-08-06T22:44:00.000-07:00

I had to let go this last week of my childhood home. My Mom stayed in our family home almost until the very end of her life and refused to size down or get rid of anything into her 87th year of life.

She used to say to me, " It will be you kids' problem when I'm gone" and laugh.

Well it is our problem but I don't think she could have imagined how much pain and grief it has added to her death this April.

Instead of grieving the letting go of my childhood home and things like her biscuit mixing pan and cake plate, and other sentimental pieces over a period of time, I have had to let go of my mother, go through her entire house, storage shed, and barn all in one week. Now just weeks later the house itself is ready to go up for sale.

The feelings I am left with are breathless, ripping, pain. Like the intense pain of giving birth in 20 minutes instead of 20 hours. I try to not feel it during the day, count my blessings, etc...but in the middle of the night I wake up, my defenses down, the pain of loss overwhelms me. I feel helpless because there is no "rational" reason to any other course of action, yet I long for someone to understand and help me grieve this...but there is no one really.

Just when you think you have gone through the worst of it, you realize that you have to let go of yet another thing with no time to grieve its loss. Never again can I "go home". Someone else will live there, change the colors, remodel, or even neglect this beautiful home my Dad built and no one else ever lived in. I am now the stranger to that home and that town in central Oregon

Yes, I have my own home now, but letting go of these things takes time, time I was not given.

I used to call my Mom and talk about these difficult cases that come along in one's adult life but I can't do that either.

I had other subjects to blog about but I realized this is what consumes me now. To write about those other subjects right now would not give the necessary weight to what I am going through.

In all this probably the most disconcerting part is that most people in my circle of friends don't seem to have an understanding of this, so I am alone in this new pain...like a phantom moving about among the living with deep wounds that no one seems to be able to see or hear of.

So, the glowing ember of my childhood grows weak and I stand helplessly on the sidelines and watch as it grows weaker by days instead of fading over the years. There is no arm around my shoulders holding up knees that threaten to buckle in grief somedays. Husband Rod tries to help but really can't get into my head and heart on this one.

Can I get beyond this? Yes, I know others have...but somehow I feel that part of me is dying and I will carry that dead little girl with me to my grave... no one will know or care about her but me. I will miss her, I will not be the same person without her.

Summer traditions

2007-07-29T21:19:00.000-07:00

We just returned from camping in central Oregon with my side of the family and our grown kids. This is now the only time we take the camper out...we used to take it out at least 3 times each summer...too much work and gas nowdays and our grown kids camp without us now.

The "Coopers" started camping together about 28 years ago and now it has become a beloved tradition with many memories of engagements, newly weds, babies, elderly parents, and a Saturday potluck that quiets us all down for a least an hour of summer feasting.

This was a tough year with my Mom just passing away in April. She was the "glue" that held us all together and the campout was her favorite weekend. I wondered if we could survive without her and Dad but somehow we just did what we always do.

When nephew Forrest sang and played my folks' favorite love ballad on the guitar I could not join in for the first time...I always used to look over at Mom and Dad and watch Daddy hold Mom's hand if she was close by, now the song brought tears to my eyes and my throat much too choked up to sing.

I have no sadness for them, now in the presence of Jesus and free of this burdensome life, but my heart still is tender for the loss of both parents in a way that can make a 50 something year old new grandmother feel small and child like again. They were so in love....it made us feel secure and hopeful to have that foundation all those years.

Now a new generation claims the traditons and songs. Little blond children bobbing in and out of trailers and playing at the base of tall trees hold the promise that this tradition will live on.

Do you think traditions are important? Are they worth working to keep them alive?

Go visit Gitta

2007-07-16T22:23:00.000-07:00

My daughter Bethany's college roommate Brigitta is doing a stint at the mayo clinic this summer as part of her Seattle Pacific U. nursing school experience.
She has left the Seattle Wa. area for the summer and is living on site at the Mayo clinic in Rochester Minnesota and was placed with three total strangers (other nursing students)

She has also never blogged before this summer and is doing a BANG UP job of describing what it is like to transplant oneself from her native Seattle Wa to this great lakes part of the USA and all the interesting things one might encounter at one of the Mayo clinics.
I think she is a great blogger. Give her blog a visit...we gotta encourage this girl...she's a natural writer and I love going with her on her adventures! She only has access to the Internet sporadically so surprise her with some comments! See "Gittasadventures" link on my links.

My secret indulgence

2007-07-14T16:05:00.000-07:00

I have an indulgence. It is Pepsodent tooth paste. Is it just me or is it hard to find in the stores these days.

I keep a tube in my travel kit so my mouth gets a little vacation too when we travel. I don't want to get tired of it so that way I don't.

I just discovered that Pepsodent has a unique flavor that I finally identified last week. It is not in your regular mint families but it is a flavoring used in lots of other personal products that I finally ID'd. Anyone want to guess what the flavor is?

Count backwards from ten to one...TAKE OFF!

2007-07-04T22:00:00.000-07:00

I had to go back and see the nice doctors and nurses this week for a little followup procedure.
This one required full general anesthesia however. I knew someday I would have to face this!
Something about giving up control and being put completely out...I thought the conscious sedation for the colonoscopy was a big step earlier this month!
Everything turned out fine and now I won't be afraid if I have to have it again someday for a more serious condition.
I seem to worry about things like this more than most people. My doctor says it is because I was in the medical field and I know too much, but does that explain why I don't like to fly in commercial airplanes?
(If I could just check in with the cockpit and make sure everyone is feeling well, slept good last night?, no fight with the spouse or suicidal impulses today? Maybe a little interview with the plane mechanic.....)
Anyone else out there have these issues?

Not my idea of a cruise

2007-06-13T22:05:00.000-07:00

Rod and I survived our first colonoscopy.
Drinking that awful salt sludge was definately the worst part. By phase 2 we decided we liked drinking it straight and chasing it better than mixing it with something and prolonging the misery.

They had to try five times to get an IV in me, I think I was dehydrated from all the salt. They finally called in the supervisor to do the IV and she ended up being in my nursing class at Good Samaritan and was on my floor in the dorm 30+ years ago. We had some laughs.

I was teasing them in the procedure room that with our high insurance deductible this was costing us as much as a nice cruise which I have never taken and that I was waiting for them to make it more fun. The next thing I knew I was waking up from a nap in the other room and they were offering me juice and crackers.

Pretty slick, no pain, no soreness, just a nice little nap. I had 3 polyps that they removed so I have to repeat in 5 years. Rod was clean so he can wait 10 years.

I guess it takes a while for the "conscious sedation" to wear off because when daughter Bethany picked us up afterwards she said we kept asking the same questions and forgetting what she had just answered so maybe we weren't fit to drive but we FELT normal.
We all went out for a little soup, an event Rod has no recollection of, and came home to get hydrated and promptly all fell asleep, even the dog. I thot it was Bethany snoring oddly but it was the dog between Rod's legs on the couch.

I still think a cruise would have been more fun but at least when we do go I won't be worried about whether I am harboring colon cancer, the 3rd killer of people our age.

I can't believe I put it off so long...it was a "breeze".

I've never done a wedding!

2007-06-13T20:56:00.000-07:00

My second child (daughter Erin), was married this last Saturday.

The week before the wedding people would come up to me and ask the same question, "Are you ready for the wedding?" It was a perfectly reasonable question but my response did not seem to be what they wanted to hear. I would answer, "How do I know if we are ready, I have never planned a wedding before!"

In the last 6 months I have learned an amazing amount of information about what goes into planning a wedding. As I sat there on the front row watching my daughter vow her love to my new son in law, I thought, "Wow, 6 months of planning, buying, cleaning, for a one hour ceremony and simple reception." I feel like I should change careers and use all this amazing info now but in reality I will just appreciate the next wedding I attend a lot more.

Here's a couple of things I learned:

1. There is a reason why florists get paid for "designing" flowers for special occasions.

They have access to wholesale flowers, tools, and supplies in a world the rest of us know little about.

Don't think you are going to save money by trying to be one of these professionals. Flowers have to be designed the day before and the bouquets, corsages, etc have to be kept in water or moist and chilled, then transported to the wedding all in the 12 hours before the big event. You do NOT want to do this on top of being mother of the bride! You will be master minding everything else.

2. It is not buying the food, it is getting it prepared, served, and cleaned up afterword that you need help with. Either hire this done or have some VERY talented and GOOD friends you can count on. If the facility says their volunteers will take care of everything...HAVE A BACK UP PLAN and people to jump in if necessary. (this happened to me this last weekend)

People will forgive you if the ceremony has glitches, but when they hit that reception hall you don't want 300 people waiting for the food to be put out!

3. Email family, guests, and wedding party with instructions re what time to show up and what to expect. If they need to grab some lunch before a 2 pm wedding give them those instructions and what is the earliest time they should show up for pictures or for guests, how early to arrive.

We decided next time we will make sack lunches for the wedding party with their names on them, otherwise someone always goes hungry...this time it was the maid of honor who was running errands when the snacks were set out for the attendants.

4. Delegate! When people offer to help (or owe you), keep them in mind esp for those last minute details that are no biggie but on top of everything else a lot. We had to send someone out to buy different candles, with specifics most people can do these kind of errands even last minute.

Utilize the bridal party...if you think about, you will know who can handle what jobs and most jobs are really pretty minimal requests but a big help altogether.

5. Have some kind of a program plan for the reception. We had a family member MCEE and he introduced the Bride and Groom as they entered, determined the oldest married couple there, set up the toasts, etc .

6. Plan how and where you can connect with family afterwards.

People make a real effort to come, some from good distances, you need a place to "catch up and debrief" after the wedding if possible.

7. Expect that something will go wrong. (We forgot to put on the music during the reception)

But in the famous words of my deceased mother in law, Irene Willett, " In the end they will be just as married!" So don't miss the moment...soak it in.

Do you know this terrorist?

2007-05-28T23:02:00.000-07:00

I have a weed that has invested my flower beds now for a few years. I call it "pop weed" for lack of its real name due to its ability to make little spring loaded coiled seeds that fly in all directions when you touch it once it gets to maturity.
I fight it on every front, thinking if I get every last one each spring there will be no "hosts" left to reproduce and I will rid myself of it. When it warms up enough, I spray with toxic sprays that give me headaches for the next 6 hours, yet it reappears in my flowers every spring.
I just return from walking the dog and realized that even though it is not yet officially spring and the air still has a definite winter bite, this weed is already going to seed in my soggy, frigid, flower beds. I search for it on my walks in other beds around the neighborhood to no avail. Even the most unkempt beds seem to be spared this curse....I walk by and look on with wonder that no one else seems to be fighting this crusade!

One of the most fascinating facts about my nemesis however is that the poorer the soil the quicker it matures and reproduces. Instead of being 3 -5 inches tall and lush, it might go to seed at only 1.5 inches in a matter of what seems like only hours. As I despaired today to see this already happening in the winter, I wondered if a similar phenomenon occurs in humans who live for several generations under impoverished, harsh conditions. Do the women start maturing earlier in order to reproduce themselves before the harshness of their environment takes it toll on them and they succumb to malnutrition and disease? Hmmm.

What is your second language?

2007-05-18T16:12:00.001-07:00

Rod and I finished up a new endeavor this year, teaching English as a second language (ESL).
Our class consisted of a Latino couple we have insured at our business and two Asian ladies from the nail salon I use.
We started in October and finished on March 15th.
This has to be one of the craziest endeavors that Rod ever talked me into but it worked! We were taking Spanish ourselves, preparing for a quick week trip to Guadalajara Mexico when our teacher asked us if we would be interested in "tutoring" some Latinos in English in exchange for some help from them with our Spanish.

Well, Rod gets very enthusiastic about these things and begin to invite everyone we came in contact with that looked like they could use a little help with English. When I would express my concern he would assure me that "We can do this". Thanks to my background in teaching phonics we were able to put together some pretty good material and I can say now that I am quite proud of the progress these wonderful people made this year.
I was inspired by these new friends and their ability to navigate our culture. They are so far ahead of me in that they already speak TWO languages, just need a little help with the second one, some more than others.

Sometimes you hear "natives" making derogatory remarks about these new comers. I don't think I have ever known any of these "commentators" that could speak another language yet somehow they feel that having been passively pushed out of the womb into a free country like ours makes them above these others.
Many internationals seem to be bringing a lot more to our country than some of their critics. We readily hire and use these people to do our nails, roof our houses, and clean up after us but "tsk, tsk" about the jobs they are taking when in our own little clicks.

I have had some experiences that made me resent immigration but in each case I was viewing them from outside their circle, unable to understand their language or cultural ways. Meeting with non natives every week puts a "face and personality" to these foreigners and you soon see how much like you and I they are. Loving parents, struggling bread winners.....

Rod and I are finishing the book, "Infidel. The author talks about the prejudice between different blacks within the the same regions of Africa who may have slightly different shapes of noses, hair curliness, or shade of black skin color, etc. It is chilling to hear how these "different" people are characterized with the same characteristics we commonly hear people use to describe "different" people here; lazy, dirty, immoral, dishonest, etc. You could close your eyes and be in a cafe somewhere in America and hear the same generalizations. To know how this can turn into raw hatred and mass murder should get our attention.
Prejudice is a common human problem the world over. Does it make you wonder what the root of the problem is that drives us to need someone to look down on? Are we all prejudice in some way?
I have opinions about "groups" of people that may be considered prejudice. There are statistical differences is cultures but how do we process and explain those differences? Have you had a close relationship with someone from another culture? Have you formed your opinions without such a relationship?
Do you think there were family influences that affect how you perceive these people? Do you think your religion is strong enough to stand along side these other faiths that are coming in?
I would enjoy your thoughts/questions, please comment even if you don't agree with me.

That which we call a rose...

2007-05-02T16:45:00.000-07:00

That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet." (from Romeo and Juliet)

Do you ever ponder your name? Seems like every school girl at some time thinks of a name she would like to be called in her daydream fantasies.

I remember hating the name Vicky simply because two of the meanest and most obnoxious girls in my life for a few years were both named Vicky. At that time in my life that name was synonymous with unrelenting evil. (Since then, I have met some wonderful Vickies!)

One of the Asian students in the ESL class I have been teaching this year told me her name means "virgin" in Vietnamese. In her attempt to convey this concept to me with her limited English, I witnessed what some might say was a graphic sign language answer to my inquiry. I have learned to keep an open mind in these situations but sometimes I must suppress a blush.

My alter ego is named Lily. She lives in a Victorian era, has poofy, pinned up hair, high buttoned shoes, a parasol, and white bustled dress . She wears cotton gloves in public, carries a lace hankie, and is careful not to damage her porcelain skin with too much direct sun, but gets "down and dirty" when it comes to social justice and humanitarian causes.

If you could have named yourself would you have chosen a different name and why?
Do you have an alter ego?

The Lord Giveth and the Lord Taketh

2007-04-17T16:44:00.000-07:00

Never have I experienced such an intense 8 days. We buried my Mom, Zona , last Monday and this Monday we listened outside a birthing room door in a Seattle WA. hospital to the first cries of our first grandchild, Micah James.

In between, I switched gears and got back into wedding plans for daughter Erin's June 9th wedding plus tried to get caught up at work after being in central Oregon for 10 days with my Mom before she died.

A plethora of emotions has kept my mind engaged as my body has soaked up much needed sleep with desperation.

I had unexpected emotions after my Mom's death; like feeling guilty for sleep, food, or even a hot bath...I knew she would not want that but somehow I felt frustrated to still be enjoying life when I could not relieve her suffering or keep her with us...it was as if I had failed her someway even tho I kept vigil at her bedside for many days. It has gotten better as the days have rolled by however and more and more I am able to realize the great release she is experiencing from terrible pain she has endured for months and the living condition changes she never really embraced. I know I will see her again so we are the ones to be pitied; left behind, unable to call her like I used to, a 50 something orphan in a sense, yet God does not leave us there.

How timely to send this little one to our family to press against this aching heart and fill it with new emotions of wonder and joy.

" Like as a father pitieth his children, so the LORD pitieth them that fear him.
For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.
As for man, his days are as grass: as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. For the wind passeth over it, and it is gone; and the place thereof shall know it no more.
But the mercy of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteousness unto children's children. " Psalms 103:13-17

A week to remember

2007-03-29T22:31:00.000-07:00

Mexico and the ocean.....I think there is no better combination?

Rod and I just returned from a week in Mazatlan Mexico. We took Bethany on her Washington spring break along with B's room mate Gitta. B and I had earned free airline tickets allowing us to fly anywhere Alaska flies for free, even on spring break, so for once we could afford such a trip during a peak time.

The girls slept on the hide a bed in the living room with the ocean breeze softly blowing over the faces, hair flowing over the sides of their pillows as I got up in the mornings to make coffee in the little kitchenette side of the room. Rod and I claimed the privacy of the little bedroom, exchanging the ocean's soft roar and breeze for morning traffic and bus horns waking us each morning on our side of the unit.

I find myself wondering why we had such a good time and I know that a big part of it was the Mexican people. I stood waiting for a bus one afternoon and witnessed 3 children get off a city bus and greet an aunt and uncle waiting for them. The children raced down the sidewalk and each one was enveloped into the arms of the waiting relatives, kissed on the cheek, and held close for sometime. I was struck by the warmth of it all. Even good friends greeted each other with a warmth and lack of inhibition rarely seen here in the North...I found myself a little envious and wondering why we hold back. Is it vulnerability or fear of expectations that we cannot meet?

I know we were in a tourist area but even the help where we stayed seemed genuinely glad to have us around. We tried to speak to them in Spanish when we could and they graciously corrected our clumsy attempts to be polite and avoid the brusk North American stereotype that seems to have forgotten how to recognize the individual before asking/demanding assistance.

Each interaction was prefaced with a Buenos Dias/tardes,.. and ended with "por favor" (please)

Tourists who fail to learn these nicities may find themselves ignored and neglected until they learn their manners in such cultures! But even the smallest attempt to be polite is usually rewarded with great grace and generosity.

Bethany is always our best ambassador. Her engaging smile and cheery Spanish inquieries usually melted away the reserve of taxi drivers and anyone else jaded by the influx of we"gringos" constantly needing transportation to and from the airport. Soon we would learn how many children, grandchildren these men had, how long they had lived in Mazatlan, what the weather had been like, and maybe even a little culture and history before arriving at our destination. Knowing those things about someone makes it easier to identify with them and they become more like potential friends instead of just a driver.

The "Golden Zone" is a several mile strip of hotels on the ocean and you can walk most of it in one afternoon or evening. Even at night the strip is populated with both natives and tourists out enjoying the cool breeze as you walk by hotels, shops, and restaurants. City buses roar by you and will stop with just a wave of you hand when your feet say, "enough". The old city buses can be ridden for 4.5 pesos or about 45 cents American but little golf carts vie for your business and will take you most anywhere on the zone for about $4 for your group.

When we returned Monday night it was raining at the Portland airport. A cold wind drove the rain into us as we loaded our luggage into our van..daughter Erin so graciously dropping us off and picking us up at ungodly hours. At 2 am I slipped between the sheets of my own bed, grateful to finally be "out of the sky" and on solid ground. My bed felt incredibly good and somehow the rain didn't seem to matter as much as before I left...because somewhere south, the warm ocean breeze still blows through stately palm trees and gentle people still greet each other warmly.

Half a kid?

2007-03-29T22:19:00.000-07:00

It's time. I must introduce Pekah our dog, formally known as "Pekah Boo". She is the biggest Boston Terrior you will ever see, weighing in at 39 lbs vs the 18 most females weigh.

After 11 years of a house full of family and no dog, we gave in and got her...probably a desperate effort to soften the blow of the quickly emptying nest I was experiencing 6 years ago. Was it a rational decision? Even then I would have told you it wasn't.

My standard advice to people thinking of getting a dog is that they are "half a kid" in terms of the commitment and even to the cost of having one around. No one in their right mind would go out and pay good money for "half a kid" right when their parenting days were about to lighten.

Rod was in his "right" mind....I just wanted a dog and it did not take our high schooler Bethany long to jump right on my side of the bandwagon. Rod knew he was done for. Looking back, since Pekah sleeps on the floor on his side of the bed, he takes her out at night, cleans up the yard, and has walked her more than any of us, he should have had the final say. He just pitied his poor wife, losing her own babies with no grand babies to fill these arms and this heart. Who could live with that kind of misery?

Still, the dog is alone a lot during the day and when I am here she sleeps as she is now. How much happier she would be if kids were bursting in and out of the doors the way it used to be...every dog needs that companionship...God help the ones who are locked up all day by owners who think the dog's desperate joy at seeing them at the end of the day somehow justifies leaving them alone without companionship for half their life. If that includes being crated up then I think it is time to call in the humane society! People who do that to their animal should be forced to sit and watch their dog try to cope with that kind of abuse hour after hour with no mental or physical stimulation!

Every part of our lives now has to take in account the dog, evenings, weekends, and esp vacations. To take care of a dog humanely is a big commitment and involves money. My 87 year old mother just moved into assisted living and one of her biggest concerns is the dog she had to find a temporary home for...that issue is still a heart break...which begs the question of when and why should someone get a dog. Is there a right time to have one and a wrong time?

In the meantime, we love our Pekah. She is the only dog I have ever been around that "smiles" when she is really happy. She is also very smart and doesn't bark unless it is important. This picture is of her with her ears back which probably means she was a little annoyed, or maybe just very bored? If you were here however, she would smile for you and do amazing tricks like "die" on command and pop up those beautiful ears. Her eyes would brighten with the excitement of meeting you because everyone who enters our door is here to see and love her in her mind...and she will love you unconditionally from the start. Yes, that is what a wonderful dog will bring into your life, I just hope we give them the kind of home and companionship a creature like that deserves.. it is the least we can do.

(If you want to see Rod's humorous side of this issue go to: hungerisgood.blogspot.com and read Rod's funny account of "Match Man", see link on the right)

Savant video...don't miss this video

2007-03-17T18:16:00.000-07:00

Do you know what a savant is? It is someone with extraordinary abilities like the character Dustin Hoffman played in "Rain man".
Check out this cool video clip that I borrowed from my nephew Luke and Ailie Daniel's blog. This is about a Savant called the "Human Camera and is unbelievable!! See link below.
http://www.boreme.com/media/yr2006/rome-drawing.wmv

Luke and Ailie live in LA now and are pretty serious bloggers. You never know what you might find on their blog...including Thai Elvis?? Check them out at http://www.lukeandailie.blogspot.com/

Who gives this woman to this man?

2007-03-12T17:33:00.000-07:00

This last month a 20 something young man asked Rod and I for our blessing on his plans to take our daughter as his wife. Now, this is a fun time of life, one we all look forward to. We all want our adult children to trust God with their future and we watch with delight as God brings two committed Christian people together.
The problem I am having is with that word "take". Life has been "taking" a lot lately, our parents, our surviving parent's health and independence, our own youth and strength...our time in all kinds of ministries. About the only thing people don't seem to want from is our advice....Rod says that is why we have so much good advice.....most people don't want it!

It is not the "sharing" I am having trouble with, it is the "giving." First you GIVE yourself to your husband, then you GIVE birth, then you GIVE yourself to your children for years, then you GIVE your kids a private education and the opportunity to go to college. Then, about the time they get mature enough to enjoy a cup of coffee with or an afternoon of shopping....someone wants you to GIVE them up! It doesn't matter how many diapers you've changed or those nights when we took turns sleeping with a croupy, feverish baby so we could both face the next day with a least a couple hours of worrisome sleep?

My mother in law Irene used to say, "Well, what did you think you were raising them for...do you want them to live with you forever?" Well, no. Actually Rod and I like having our pre-kid life back....going to bed when we want, eating when and what we want...if one of us will heat up something out of the frig the other will eat about anything...we are still reveling in the wondrous quiet and often light a candle to celebrate our peaceful leftovers. Still, I keep looking for the balance to all this giving!
I've looked forward for some years now to expanding our family, "spreading our tent" to include sons and daughter in laws, and God is giving us some good ones! Some say the reward comes in having grandchildren. Well, grandchild number one is coming this spring and from what I have observed grand parenting is a blissful insanity all its own...God's tonic for the pain of GIVING? Guess we will find out.

NEW NEWS

2007-03-09T20:18:00.000-08:00

Here are some interesting things I read today

Fathers in their 40's and 50's are now proven to contribute to congenital birth problems such as autism, dwarfism, and many other problems. Males over age 50 are 3X more apt to father a child with schizophrenia and their grandchildren may even be at risk for some problems. It appears men in their 20's have the healthiest children but 30's are usually ok.

Voluntary assembly in public school common area. Interesting story from our area (NW) regarding high school kids meeting in the common area to pray. Now some of them have been suspended for refusing to meet in a classroom outside the common area. Reasons given; blocking traffic and offending those who do not like people praying in public.

"Meism". a term for those of us who think a good conversation is 20 minutes of expounding on ourselves and our own interests, rarely asking the other person any questions or if we do, not really listening to what they have to say. Then walking away feeling we have had a great "conversation"
If you aren't already doing this you probably will start as you get older...what is it about us that as we get older we lose our ability to focus on others? Are you one of these people? If you have escaped so far will you eventually turn into one of these droning bores? Are people doing this at early ages than before and if so why? Is blogging a form of ""Meism"?

Feel free to weigh in on these items in the comment section. Lin

Hope Springs Eternal

2007-02-28T13:49:00.000-08:00

Couldn't resist this scene outside my office today of spring flowers blooming victoriously amid a carpet of icy sleet .

Just minutes before, the sky was green-grey, the world subdued under the cold wrath of one of winter's last ragings.

What beauty there is in those who stand strong amidst trials and onslaught, bringing faith and hope to overwhelming dark days.

"Ain't no sunshine when your gone"

2007-02-27T13:35:00.000-08:00

Sun, I think I have forgotten what you look and feel like; we have labored under this oppressively cold rain now for so many weeks. This is western Oregon at its worst I would say, not just gray and rainy but COLD rain driving sideways at you as you scramble into your car.

My spring flowers are pushing up through the ground but appear on "hold" like the rest of us, head down, clutching our coats, wondering when winter's grip will be broken.

Days like this I like to peruse my photos of warmer times....like this family picture from Mazatalan Mexico last spring. You can't tell by looking but that is the Pacific Ocean right outside those windows and there is a WARM breeze coming in those open windows.

Those of us who put up with this winter weather from October through mid July should really get some kind of purple heart....we have a "light box" I sit and read under in the evenings that helps get me through the worst "light deprivation" months...but my bones ache for the caress of a warm spring day. How do you cope?

PS I just heard from someone that read my blog but didn't comment. If you read this would you just leave your name in the comments? Since I am new to blogging it would be fun to know you were there even if you don't want to leave a comment. Lin

Does God go to movies?

2007-02-23T22:29:00.000-08:00

I just returned from the best film I have seen in 10 years...possibly one of the best films you will see in your entire lifetime.

Rod and were wrapping up our work week on Friday afternoon and decided to go see the new film, "Amazing Grace" on the life and work of one of the greatest British activists/orators of the 1800's, William Wilberforce.
This British Christian, pastored by John Newton, the former slave trader and author of the song "Amazing Grace, grew up to lead that nation in the abolishment of slavery using his political forum in Parliment and the grass roots efforts of a hand full of zealots.

Driven to push through what often must have seemed like insurmountable opposition, greed, and apathy, these faithful few found the grace and strength to persevere in their burning compassion for their oppressed and downtrodden African brothers and sisters.
I believe that in causes like this, (and in our day, abortion), these kind of hearts are made one with the heart of the Almighty as He looks upon the suffering of the innocent and the cries of their anguish pierce His heavens.
This is a true testimonial of how God can use people of faith to do His work wherever He has placed them; in this case politics.

I have never been this moved by anything in a movie theater. This is an uplifting film about a cause so close to God's heart that you can feel His presence in attendance with you.

PS. Go early or pre buy your tickets. I predict that this film will be sold out or you will be on the very front row if you don't plan ahead.

So you want more authority

2007-02-22T10:41:00.000-08:00

In conversation with our office partner Vern today, he mentioned a principle that excited me.
He said, "God will only give US as much authority as we are willing to come under ourselves."

This is very thought provoking! His example; Jesus Christ gave up His authority and came under total submission for us. What was His outcome....he gained "ALL authority over heaven and earth"!

."...He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross,. Therefore God has HIGHLY exalted Him and given him THE name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow.... and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord." (read Philippians 2: 5-11 for the whole context)

How does this apply to authority in the job, home, church, government?
Can we trust God to work through those who hold positions of authority that we do not trust or respect? (If you want a baptism of info on this principle look up "Basic Youth" seminars and attend the next seminar, go to: http://iblp.org/iblp/)
Are there situations where we are obligated to disobey authority?
I invite your comments. Lin

Effective and Natural?

2007-02-22T09:57:00.000-08:00

Can these two terms coexist?

In one of my two nursing careers, (before and after staying home with small children), I found myself called upon to give a long lasting birth control injection to a young, unmarried, woman.

The strong hormone was mixed in a heavy, oily substance, something like thick motor oil, allowing it to stay in the tissue for several months thus slowing absorption in order to achieve the desired 3 month, long term birth control. I dreaded giving these shots as anytime you inject something so incompatible with human tissue that it resists being absorbed there is usually some unhealthy insult to the tissues as they try to tolerate what is essentially a foreign if not hostile substance.

As I talked to the young woman before drawing up her injection, she complained to me that she had developed severe and chronic headaches which were probably related to a higher blood pressure than one should have at her age. I asked her if she was aware that the injection I was preparing to give her could cause side effect such as she was describing. She said no one had told her that. I asked her if she had ever considered another less drastic form of birth control and we discussed some other options that might work more compatibly with her own body. I suggested she ask the doctor about her options, esp since headaches could be considered minor compared to more serious risks like stroke, blood clots, etc. for some individuals.

When I talked to the doctor later about the discussion he "flew at me", furious that I had told her to ask about other options as he felt that people such as her (promiscuous) needed a birth control method that required the least amount of compliance on her part to keep her from coming back to us with an unplanned pregnancy.

Now I am a practical, "bottom line", kind of person but I wonder if this kind of approach is what helps society in the long run. While it does solve the immediate problem most efficiently, do we really help society by withholding information, education, and our trust from such individuals?
Are we so tired of seeing people make selfish and short sighted decisions that we have just resorted to control vs education? I invite you to weigh in on this.

The below link is an interesting article on the effectiveness of natural birth control when individuals are properly educated and use what they have learned responsibly.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/6375261.stm
Here's a link to an organization that teaches this in the Portland area.
www.nwfs.org

HOW I NAMED MY BLOG

2007-02-20T21:47:00.000-08:00

I was on the phone with my 80 something Mom telling her about my week, which I thot had been unusually challenging. Some days/weeks seem to defy one's own wisdom and endurance, even in your 50's and I was looking forward to a little sympathy along with maybe some sage advice.
I was shocked at what came out of my mother's mouth! She said, "Well, honey, that is what adults do."
Now I am telling you, this was not some 20 something looking for sympathy over a broken fingernail. I am in my 50s you know...why, other people come to ME for advice.
I felt like I had come to her on fire and she threw gasoline on me.

The funny thing though is that my husband and I say this to each other now, esp. when mulling over why we have to respond to yet another situation with grace, maturity, and endurance...sometimes biting our tongues until the grooves bleed, rather than saying that thing that is screaming inside our heads.

So if you find yourself doing things that require; the commitment of a new mother, the patience of Job, the perserverence of a saint, nerves of steel, and the restraint of a bomb specialist, it is probably a very adult move in the maturist sense of the word because, "That's what adults do."