What do you get when you cross a not-so-young-anymore woman with a computer?
Answer:
A deleted "about me" on her blog and her "Mom" & "Barrett" files gone, completely and totally from the email section of our computer.
That means: all my favorite recipes
cleaning recipes
craft ideas for Barrett
school websites
emails I needed to reply to
etc.
etc.
etc.
They are all gone. I even had a website saved that I was going to tell you about that talks about how to turn your blog into a book. It's gone too.
I'm not interested in trying to write a new "about me" thingy right now. At some point in the near future I'll try and come up with something.
That is, if my brain ever returns from where it went. One good thing about losing your brain to middle age, it isn't painful. In fact, I'm almost giddy.
Can you hear me singing?
Kay Sera, Sera. Whatever will be, will be. I do wish my files I'd see. Kay Sera, Sera...
September 26, 2008
September 21, 2008
I Love You
Jimmy turned 12 just a few days before I made my entrance into the world. He was a wonderful big brother. Patient, sweet, quiet, gentle, a good listener. I felt safe with him. So unconditionally accepted. He would cheerfully give up other things to stay home and babysit his little sister.
I have very few concrete memories of him. I know he had curly hair and I think he had green eyes. He wasn't a very big person, at least on the outside. His heart and mind were of the deep and pondering sort. He loved to read and think and reflect. Even as a small girl those qualities made Jimmy huge to me.
My parents divorced when I was 7. I lost a lot of things when that happened. Our "family" was gone. Our traditions. Our closeness. Our laughter....
My dad remarried and started a new family.
In some ways my mom was gone too. She seemed to crawl inside herself to find safety.
We moved to Colorado shortly after The Divorce. So, there went my home, my friends, my school, the familiar neighborhood.
I was a "freak", (not the hippy-kind, just strange) when we settled out west. I was the only child whose parents were divorced. I actually had things called "half-brothers" and "step-brothers". I was the first one around to be a latch-key child. The kids in school had no clue what to do with me.
For a brief time, around this time, Jimmy was in the navy. When it was over, he too joined the ranks of lost people, searching for hope and purpose in LSD, marijuana and I-don't-know-what-all-else because I was thankfully too young to follow that trail.
Sometimes Jimmy would show up for a visit. Every time he came he would bring me a present. One time he brought a chess set and then sat with me every evening trying to teach me how to play. During another visit he brought a huge handful of plastic bead necklaces he'd picked up at a mardi gras parade in New Orleans. Once he arrived with a beautiful music box that made me feel grown-up and pretty.
I think the gift I really liked, more than all the others, was a book called The Phantom Tollbooth.
I still remember the moment he gave it to me. He had just arrived home and as he walked in the door he grinned and said, "Hey Jude! Here. I brought you a book. Where's Ma?" And that was that. It was said very casually, but the look and the book said, "I love you. There's more to life than what you're experiencing right now. Some of it is in the world of books..." That story, and the fact that Jimmy gave it to me, somehow made me feel like "Life does go on. It will be OK."
I was such a mess at the time. My heart was full of confusion, anger, bitterness, loneliness, and rejection. Jimmy didn't know Jesus. He was confused, lonely and angry too. But he never projected those things onto me. He loved me unconditionally and like I said before, I felt safe with him. I was not a "freak" to Jimmy. I was his little sister and he accepted me for where I was at and who I was.
Jimmy came for one of his fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants visits when I was 12. He stayed with my mom and me for a week or two and then left. I don't remember saying goodbye. I don't remember our final hug or watching him ride off on his Harley. I just remember a few months later the phone rang. The police in Florida were calling my mom to tell her Jimmy was dead. He'd been in an accident with a drunk driver.
That moment obviously changed my life once again. I learned that not only do people divorce, move away, run away, start new lives...sometimes they just Go Away and Never. Come. Back.
For years and years I wished I could remember my final words to Jimmy. Did I ever thank him for the gifts He'd brought me? The little presents that had told me his heart had carried his little sister with him wherever he'd gone? Did he know how much I adored him? Did he die knowing I felt safe when he was with me? As he'd walked out the door that final time, had I shouted, " I love you Jimmy!"?
I have no idea whether my brother came to know and love Jesus before he died. My heart hurts whenever I think about it. Just because he was a "good" person, and a wonderful big brother does not mean his salvation was secure.
One thing I do know is that I have a different perspective on scripture than others might. Is it any wonder God tells us to make things right with people immediately?
To forgive an offense this minute? It's not strange that He tells us to love others from the heart because love covers a multitude of sins.
I think He tells us those things because He is a Holy God. He is pure, and perfect and just.
However, I also think He tells us those things because He alone knows how many more minutes our friends and loved ones are going to walk the earth. He knows our hearts and He knows the regret we would feel if someone should walk out the door, never to return, carrying our anger. Carrying our resentment or perhaps a wound we inflicted. He knows the heartache we would feel if the words, "I love you" went unsaid and we had to carry that memory to our own End.
The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion...
Psalm 116:5
I have very few concrete memories of him. I know he had curly hair and I think he had green eyes. He wasn't a very big person, at least on the outside. His heart and mind were of the deep and pondering sort. He loved to read and think and reflect. Even as a small girl those qualities made Jimmy huge to me.
My parents divorced when I was 7. I lost a lot of things when that happened. Our "family" was gone. Our traditions. Our closeness. Our laughter....
My dad remarried and started a new family.
In some ways my mom was gone too. She seemed to crawl inside herself to find safety.
We moved to Colorado shortly after The Divorce. So, there went my home, my friends, my school, the familiar neighborhood.
I was a "freak", (not the hippy-kind, just strange) when we settled out west. I was the only child whose parents were divorced. I actually had things called "half-brothers" and "step-brothers". I was the first one around to be a latch-key child. The kids in school had no clue what to do with me.
For a brief time, around this time, Jimmy was in the navy. When it was over, he too joined the ranks of lost people, searching for hope and purpose in LSD, marijuana and I-don't-know-what-all-else because I was thankfully too young to follow that trail.
Sometimes Jimmy would show up for a visit. Every time he came he would bring me a present. One time he brought a chess set and then sat with me every evening trying to teach me how to play. During another visit he brought a huge handful of plastic bead necklaces he'd picked up at a mardi gras parade in New Orleans. Once he arrived with a beautiful music box that made me feel grown-up and pretty.
I think the gift I really liked, more than all the others, was a book called The Phantom Tollbooth.
I still remember the moment he gave it to me. He had just arrived home and as he walked in the door he grinned and said, "Hey Jude! Here. I brought you a book. Where's Ma?" And that was that. It was said very casually, but the look and the book said, "I love you. There's more to life than what you're experiencing right now. Some of it is in the world of books..." That story, and the fact that Jimmy gave it to me, somehow made me feel like "Life does go on. It will be OK."
I was such a mess at the time. My heart was full of confusion, anger, bitterness, loneliness, and rejection. Jimmy didn't know Jesus. He was confused, lonely and angry too. But he never projected those things onto me. He loved me unconditionally and like I said before, I felt safe with him. I was not a "freak" to Jimmy. I was his little sister and he accepted me for where I was at and who I was.
Jimmy came for one of his fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants visits when I was 12. He stayed with my mom and me for a week or two and then left. I don't remember saying goodbye. I don't remember our final hug or watching him ride off on his Harley. I just remember a few months later the phone rang. The police in Florida were calling my mom to tell her Jimmy was dead. He'd been in an accident with a drunk driver.
That moment obviously changed my life once again. I learned that not only do people divorce, move away, run away, start new lives...sometimes they just Go Away and Never. Come. Back.
For years and years I wished I could remember my final words to Jimmy. Did I ever thank him for the gifts He'd brought me? The little presents that had told me his heart had carried his little sister with him wherever he'd gone? Did he know how much I adored him? Did he die knowing I felt safe when he was with me? As he'd walked out the door that final time, had I shouted, " I love you Jimmy!"?
I have no idea whether my brother came to know and love Jesus before he died. My heart hurts whenever I think about it. Just because he was a "good" person, and a wonderful big brother does not mean his salvation was secure.
One thing I do know is that I have a different perspective on scripture than others might. Is it any wonder God tells us to make things right with people immediately?
To forgive an offense this minute? It's not strange that He tells us to love others from the heart because love covers a multitude of sins.
I think He tells us those things because He is a Holy God. He is pure, and perfect and just.
However, I also think He tells us those things because He alone knows how many more minutes our friends and loved ones are going to walk the earth. He knows our hearts and He knows the regret we would feel if someone should walk out the door, never to return, carrying our anger. Carrying our resentment or perhaps a wound we inflicted. He knows the heartache we would feel if the words, "I love you" went unsaid and we had to carry that memory to our own End.
The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion...
Psalm 116:5
September 14, 2008
Two Bits
A quick glance at my profile will tell you that I have 4 sons. When they were little we did what most parents do and potty-trained them. To the best of my knowledge, they are still potty-trained.
So as not to embarrass any of them, the protagonist in this story shall remain anonymous. (See Alex, I know one or two 4 syllable words!) (More than likely I'm using "protagonist" incorrectly, but it's the thought that counts, right?)
Anyway-when we were in the trenches of potty-training one of them, we tried a number of tricks to get "him" to "perform". We tried leaving some good books in the bathroom. Not tempting enough. We tried peanuts as a bribe. He laughed. Raisins got a snort. Finally, in desperation I caved and bought some M & M's. Wow! What a difference! That kid had to go every few minutes! He loved those M & M's.
After he had mastered #1, we moved on to #2. #2 warranted two M & M's every time he went. I've never seen anyone able to go on demand before, but this kid was able to figure it out just so he could increase his sugar intake.
One afternoon I was busy doing whatever it is a mom does, when my little guy came running. He was thrilled about something.
"Mommy! I pooped two bits! A big bit and a little bit!"
So as not to embarrass any of them, the protagonist in this story shall remain anonymous. (See Alex, I know one or two 4 syllable words!) (More than likely I'm using "protagonist" incorrectly, but it's the thought that counts, right?)
Anyway-when we were in the trenches of potty-training one of them, we tried a number of tricks to get "him" to "perform". We tried leaving some good books in the bathroom. Not tempting enough. We tried peanuts as a bribe. He laughed. Raisins got a snort. Finally, in desperation I caved and bought some M & M's. Wow! What a difference! That kid had to go every few minutes! He loved those M & M's.
After he had mastered #1, we moved on to #2. #2 warranted two M & M's every time he went. I've never seen anyone able to go on demand before, but this kid was able to figure it out just so he could increase his sugar intake.
One afternoon I was busy doing whatever it is a mom does, when my little guy came running. He was thrilled about something.
"Mommy! I pooped two bits! A big bit and a little bit!"
August 27, 2008
Little Green Drinks
I promise I'll be back soon with some "real" posts. My brain is almost up and running again.
My last post generated some fun comments between my son and one of his friends. She knows all 4 of our kids and tried to come up with what they might say to me after listening to me whine about my minor ailments:
Benjamin-bonics: It is my most fervent wish that you have reached a higher level of comfort and self-confidence in the area of personal well-being and appearance. Remember, beauty is subjective, and therefore, even if you feel as if you look unattractive, you may radiate a completely different essence.
James-bonics: Whassup, Moma? Is yo eye pickin' up what you puttin down?
Alec-bonics: Hope you're feelin' good! (maybe I should take a break off those shakes, too-just in case I might have a reaction like you.)
Barrett-bonics: Why is your eye like that, Mommy? Will it always be that way? Why isn't mine like that?
Alex hit the nail on the head with 3 of them. I wasn't so sure about the "James-bonics". So, this morning I asked him, as my one and only inner-city son, what he would say to my previous post. Here's his reply:
Momma, don’t be frontin’, them little green drinks be triflin’ and ya’ll tripping if ya’ll keeps drinkin’ them down jo throat!
Anybody care to guess what on earth that means?! (I guess I live a very sheltered life.)
Figure it out yet?
No?
OK-here's the translation:
Mom, don’t try to make it look better than it is, those smoothies are gross and you’re crazy if you keep drinking them.
Your son.
I don't think I'd make it 5 minutes working with inner-city youth. He obviously has a calling.
My last post generated some fun comments between my son and one of his friends. She knows all 4 of our kids and tried to come up with what they might say to me after listening to me whine about my minor ailments:
Benjamin-bonics: It is my most fervent wish that you have reached a higher level of comfort and self-confidence in the area of personal well-being and appearance. Remember, beauty is subjective, and therefore, even if you feel as if you look unattractive, you may radiate a completely different essence.
James-bonics: Whassup, Moma? Is yo eye pickin' up what you puttin down?
Alec-bonics: Hope you're feelin' good! (maybe I should take a break off those shakes, too-just in case I might have a reaction like you.)
Barrett-bonics: Why is your eye like that, Mommy? Will it always be that way? Why isn't mine like that?
Alex hit the nail on the head with 3 of them. I wasn't so sure about the "James-bonics". So, this morning I asked him, as my one and only inner-city son, what he would say to my previous post. Here's his reply:
Momma, don’t be frontin’, them little green drinks be triflin’ and ya’ll tripping if ya’ll keeps drinkin’ them down jo throat!
Anybody care to guess what on earth that means?! (I guess I live a very sheltered life.)
Figure it out yet?
No?
OK-here's the translation:
Mom, don’t try to make it look better than it is, those smoothies are gross and you’re crazy if you keep drinking them.
Your son.
I don't think I'd make it 5 minutes working with inner-city youth. He obviously has a calling.
August 24, 2008
Turning Over A New Oreo
OK-
I know when I'm beat, and I'm beat. When did I write that post about Green Drinks?
A week ago?
Well, I'm going to wave the white flag. I'm going back to scones. I'm going back to Starbucks. Hello meat, cheese, frozen pizza and Oreos! I am giving up The Color Green.
I woke up last Monday morning with a cold, two weeks AFTER I started drinking the green drinks. I literally cannot remember the last time I had a cold. We've had gross, icky flu bugs hurling their way through this house and I didn't get sick, and that was when all our kids still lived here!
Not only did I catch a cold, but it's taking its nasty little time leaving too. Our two younger sons caught it and sweetly passed it on to me, then they proceeded to get well. I'm not. I'm still stuffy, dizzy, and obviously whiny.
As if that weren't enough, I've now developed a strange rash under my chin. Little red, swollen dots all over that itch like the dickens and keep spreading.
Then, this afternoon, I made my Green Goo as usual. As soon as I finished it my throat started feeling all raw and scratchy. No, I don't think that's cold related. I've already passed past that part of the cold.
Now for the icing on the cake. Or should I say the Puff on the cream? When I woke up this morning I noticed my left eye was slightly swollen. As the day has progressed it's become fatter and fatter. The sun is getting ready to set and I can hardly hold my eye open!
So, now I'm a scratchy-throated, itchy-necked, stuffed-up-nose Eyegor.
I really don't think I'll give them up. After I drank my Green Goo I perked up-I had the energy to sit here and complain.
(In all seriousness, I think I must be allergic to one of the greens. I am going to quit for a few days, hide in my little house, let my throat, eye, and neck re-group and then slowly introduce one green at a time back into my diet. Hopefully I'll be able to pinpoint the culprit.)
I know when I'm beat, and I'm beat. When did I write that post about Green Drinks?
A week ago?
Well, I'm going to wave the white flag. I'm going back to scones. I'm going back to Starbucks. Hello meat, cheese, frozen pizza and Oreos! I am giving up The Color Green.
I woke up last Monday morning with a cold, two weeks AFTER I started drinking the green drinks. I literally cannot remember the last time I had a cold. We've had gross, icky flu bugs hurling their way through this house and I didn't get sick, and that was when all our kids still lived here!
Not only did I catch a cold, but it's taking its nasty little time leaving too. Our two younger sons caught it and sweetly passed it on to me, then they proceeded to get well. I'm not. I'm still stuffy, dizzy, and obviously whiny.
As if that weren't enough, I've now developed a strange rash under my chin. Little red, swollen dots all over that itch like the dickens and keep spreading.
Then, this afternoon, I made my Green Goo as usual. As soon as I finished it my throat started feeling all raw and scratchy. No, I don't think that's cold related. I've already passed past that part of the cold.
Now for the icing on the cake. Or should I say the Puff on the cream? When I woke up this morning I noticed my left eye was slightly swollen. As the day has progressed it's become fatter and fatter. The sun is getting ready to set and I can hardly hold my eye open!
So, now I'm a scratchy-throated, itchy-necked, stuffed-up-nose Eyegor.
I really don't think I'll give them up. After I drank my Green Goo I perked up-I had the energy to sit here and complain.
(In all seriousness, I think I must be allergic to one of the greens. I am going to quit for a few days, hide in my little house, let my throat, eye, and neck re-group and then slowly introduce one green at a time back into my diet. Hopefully I'll be able to pinpoint the culprit.)
August 16, 2008
Quote of the Day
Here's a quote from Edward Espe Brown, who wrote the Tassajara Bread Book:
"It seems such a shame that as a culture we don't teach our children about the basic things in life -- bread making, gardening, sewing -- and the value of work. At some point, all these things got to be beneath our dignity. If you can't work with your hands, you lose the richness of your life and the sense of being productive.''
"It seems such a shame that as a culture we don't teach our children about the basic things in life -- bread making, gardening, sewing -- and the value of work. At some point, all these things got to be beneath our dignity. If you can't work with your hands, you lose the richness of your life and the sense of being productive.''
August 11, 2008
Little House on the Prairie
A few weeks ago I went to a friend's house for what she called "Little House on the Prairie Day".
What, you ask, is that?
Well, since you asked, I'll tell you.
It was a day designed for females of all ages to get together for fellowship and learning, laughter and sharing.
About 2 months ago my friend sent an email to a gazillion women inviting them to her house for a day of teaching and learning. The day started at 9:00A.M. and went until approximately 4:30P.M. We started with a little free time so we could visit and meet new people, then at 9:30 we prayed and began the day.
Basically this is what the day was like:
There were approximately 21 women there and 35 children. Anyone could teach a "class", but if you didn't feel comfortable teaching you could just sit and learn. (That was my personal choice.)
These are just some of the classes that were taught:
-How to make goat cheese and yogurt
-How to bake your own bread/rolls
-How to plan a menu and why
-How to make a plantain tincture
-How to make English muffins
-Jewelry making
-A short lesson on herbs and their healing power
Each person that taught a class was given approximately 30-45 minutes to teach. Then we had a ten minute break before the next class began. Because there were so many people there and so many great teachers, we didn't really break for lunch. We just ate lunch quietly while we listened to one of the teachers.
It was a great day, and actually has been life changing for our family. (I'll write about that another day.)
I wanted to tell you about this special day because I could see it being the start of something wonderful. We don't sit on our front porches and visit with the neighbors anymore-thereby perhaps missing out on learning something new. Most people I know don't live down the road from Granny and therefore can't learn from her wisdom and experience.
We all bumble along in our own private, hurried bubbles; lonely perhaps, exhausted, stressed, wanting some advice on how to?....
This was a great way to slow down a little, fellowship, and ask and learn.
I've been thinking about some other ways you could use a day like this:
-Have a day called "Frugal Living". You could share the ways you've learned to stretch the not-so-almighty-anymore dollar in order to make your ends meet.
-Have an Empty Nest Tea where women can gather who are in the middle of the nest emptying, know the nest will be emptying soon, or already have an empty nest. I found a great book about the empty nest that has been a huge comfort and help. I just may make it after all!
However, it would be wonderful to sit with other women and laugh and cry and share face to face what this time of life is like and how to make it through with joy.
-Have a recipe swap. I'm always on the lookout for new recipes that are tried and true. It would be fun to sit with other women and share recipe and cooking tips.
-Or, you could just throw structure to the wind and have a "Little House on the Prairie Day". Just let whoever teach whatever and learn whatever. You may be surprised, as I was, what the Lord wants to bring into your life.
What, you ask, is that?
Well, since you asked, I'll tell you.
It was a day designed for females of all ages to get together for fellowship and learning, laughter and sharing.
About 2 months ago my friend sent an email to a gazillion women inviting them to her house for a day of teaching and learning. The day started at 9:00A.M. and went until approximately 4:30P.M. We started with a little free time so we could visit and meet new people, then at 9:30 we prayed and began the day.
Basically this is what the day was like:
There were approximately 21 women there and 35 children. Anyone could teach a "class", but if you didn't feel comfortable teaching you could just sit and learn. (That was my personal choice.)
These are just some of the classes that were taught:
-How to make goat cheese and yogurt
-How to bake your own bread/rolls
-How to plan a menu and why
-How to make a plantain tincture
-How to make English muffins
-Jewelry making
-A short lesson on herbs and their healing power
Each person that taught a class was given approximately 30-45 minutes to teach. Then we had a ten minute break before the next class began. Because there were so many people there and so many great teachers, we didn't really break for lunch. We just ate lunch quietly while we listened to one of the teachers.
It was a great day, and actually has been life changing for our family. (I'll write about that another day.)
I wanted to tell you about this special day because I could see it being the start of something wonderful. We don't sit on our front porches and visit with the neighbors anymore-thereby perhaps missing out on learning something new. Most people I know don't live down the road from Granny and therefore can't learn from her wisdom and experience.
We all bumble along in our own private, hurried bubbles; lonely perhaps, exhausted, stressed, wanting some advice on how to?....
This was a great way to slow down a little, fellowship, and ask and learn.
I've been thinking about some other ways you could use a day like this:
-Have a day called "Frugal Living". You could share the ways you've learned to stretch the not-so-almighty-anymore dollar in order to make your ends meet.
-Have an Empty Nest Tea where women can gather who are in the middle of the nest emptying, know the nest will be emptying soon, or already have an empty nest. I found a great book about the empty nest that has been a huge comfort and help. I just may make it after all!
However, it would be wonderful to sit with other women and laugh and cry and share face to face what this time of life is like and how to make it through with joy.
-Have a recipe swap. I'm always on the lookout for new recipes that are tried and true. It would be fun to sit with other women and share recipe and cooking tips.
-Or, you could just throw structure to the wind and have a "Little House on the Prairie Day". Just let whoever teach whatever and learn whatever. You may be surprised, as I was, what the Lord wants to bring into your life.
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