The rest of the day went well. The girls and I had a great time. Pete joined in from time to time, but isn't so much into "Let's Pretend". I snuck off, for a while, to post the second entry for the day. Then we made Mac and Cheese for dinner. The girl's lunch was just about as healthy. Peanut butter on saltines, chocolate milk and apples. Mira ate one green bean. Usually, I try to make perfectly balanced and healthy meals for the girls when they are here. Today, I decided that it wouldn't kill them to eat what they wanted. ...One of the advantages of being a grandparent!
Now, if they were here for a few days in a row, that would be different. Don't ask the boys how things were when they were kids. I have been gleefully told that sugar is not the culprit I thought it was. I still think that sugar, not naturally present in foods, should be avoided, but I lost that battle long ago.
After dinner, the girls got to take a bath in the BIG tub. At bedtime, Mira and I shared stories while Zoe tried stalling a bit downstairs with Papa. When she came up and got into bed, we read a couple of books. Mira then realized that she wasn't going home to Mommy and Daddy and started to plead to leave a message for her mom. We called their house. Mira promptly became teary leaving a heart rending message for them to come and get her. Zoe left one too. This left me wishing I had instead dialed a wrong number, or possibly my own message center. ...Or at least had the code to delete the one that had been left.
Mira felt better after I suggested that she dictate a letter for her Mommy and Daddy to see. This is what she wrote.:
Dear Mommy,
I want to go Home! And, I want to stay with you for a long time.
When I am away from you, I really want you. I really, really want you!
I want my Mommy! I miss my mommy and my daddy.
Two minutes after finishing the dictation she said she was tired, closed her eyes and fell fast asleep.
Meanwhile, Zoe was writing her own letter, complete with illustrations. At seven, she now can read and write. This is what she wrote:
Dear Mom and Dad, ................................... May 31, 2003
I miss you a lot. Mira and me love you a lot.
Dad, can you tell me anything about your trip?
Mira is asleep., but don't be worry anything.
Mira, she is fine.
She finished her letter, by drawing an illustration of Mira laying down, asleep, with a big smile on her face. Then, one of her sitting up smiling. She handed me the letter. I read it out loud to her. She closed her eyes and soon joined her sister in slumberland. I am saving the letters for Mike and Michele. I hope you see this post before you listen to your messages. Everyone but me is asleep. I'd better turn in. Morning, when the girls are here, seems to come VERY early.
The girls are here today, giving Mike and Michele some time alone together to just be a couple. Our little darlings refused a trip to Costco, even when we tried to bribe them with pizza and other goodies. They wanted to stay here and play.
When they first arrived, Pete showed them how to do a neat trick with Nasturtium leaves and water. You take a Nasturtium leaf, put a drop of water in the center, and WALA, you have a water diamond, that keeps intact even as you move, rock and turn the leaf.
The girls were fascinated with this; the faucet was turned on full blast for a while, making some mud to squish. After a few minutes, I had to tell them to turn off the water so as not to waste this precious resource. They complied with out argument, and after washing the mud from their feet and hands, headed inside to pursue new endeavors.
First, they changed out of their wet clothes. Mira wanted to play dress up. Zoe wanted to CLEAN! Mira would have no part of that! After putting on a more lovely dress, Mira walked downstairs, took a piece of cheese, and headed out to the back yard. She began building a village out of plant cuttings and the wooden blocks we have saved since the boys were little. Earlier, Michele borrowed my camera so I don't have a snapshot of the final construction, but I must tell you that it contained a school, a hotel, several houses, a swimming pool, and many other buildings. After using most of the blocks, Mira then became a great monster who with a few kicks destroyed everything in her path. The carefully constructed town now lays shattered on the patio.
Earlier, Zoe had negotiated payment with me for vacuuming the downstairs. We settled on a sum much lower than she wanted, but the deal was struck. She proceeded to vacuum the rug in the family room and the living room carpet. She then wanted to mop the kitchen floor, but I suggested that we sweep it first. She then lost interest in her housekeeping duties and came outside to join us in the construct of the town.
I look forward to the rest of the time the girls will be here. We may use some rose pedals to make Faerie Circles or find some other fascinating way to spend the rest of the day. Oh Yes, Pete made a solo trip to Costco, and I am writing this on a pad of paper while watching the play. Stay tuned!
When I started writing in this space, I had no idea what thoughts would be expressed. I imagined that I might write some witty little vignettes about chance encounters, maybe some whimsical observations. I thought I might share some "quotes" that I've collected, and certainly little factoids that have caught my attention.
But as this thing progresses, I find that there is something propelling me to share more of what I have rarely shared, exposing thoughts and feelings only entrusted to a few, or to no one at all.
All my life I have wanted to write, but rarely had the confidence to reveal what I had written, for fear of judgment. More generally, I have used pen and paper as a method to expel feelings of anger, hurt or sadness. After a while, I usually destroyed what was penned for fear that a loved one would discover that I harbored such awful and needy thoughts.
Not that people don't know my moods. I am pretty vocal and my feelings are usually plain to see, even when I try to hide them.
I have come to a place in my life where I feel more courageous, more fearless. Not so afraid of judgment, and I hope, more accepting of what is.
I do harbor some fear that I will embarrass my children, make someone cringe while reading what I write, or expose myself to ridicule. Either of the guys could get so uncomfortable, that they could yank this site, and I would have no idea how to recreate it. I am still struggling to learn basic computer techniques, like shortcuts for "cut" and 'paste".
However, for the time being, something within me wants to yell:
Here I am, warts and all! Deal with it!
There she sits. Calm. Peaceful. At Rest. She is slim, dark haired, simply dressed. Her tresses long, with bangs resting on her forehead. Her robe is simple. Gown and hair like images of styles seen on Egyptian women of the past. She sits on a grey stone bench with armrests. The woman's arms rest comfortably on the speckled granite, hands open to the Universe, in a meditative state. Her breath, slow and deep. Her body, still. She is at peace.
Trees and plants grow all about this bench. A bubbling stream runs just in front. The splashing sounds of water, tripping over rocks, mingle with the song of birds. Above, the blue sky shows itself between the green of the tall trees. It is warm. This shady spot is blessed with a soft breeze.
Light is everywhere, constantly flowing. The Light flows through her. Fills her. It enters her body and radiates out, never leaving her empty.
I have seen this image often, and have longed for the gift of art to draw it, to paint it, but do not possess the talent. The words I use do not adequately describe what I see. But this is all I have.
One part of my soul knows that I am this woman. My idealized SELF. This is not apparent to those who meet me, or to all but One who know me. But someday, on some plane, in another life, I will sit. Calm. Still. Peaceful. At rest, One with the Universe.
Last night I sent Mike a FAX that included additions to the format of this blog. Mike called this morning to tell me that he and Matt were thinking about making some major changes to this site in order make it easier for me. I guess that is a good idea, but that means I will have to get used to new methods and start all over. And, I thought I was just getting started here. ...Hope the guys are up to more calls from Mom. Michele always says "Change is good!" Yes, I know.
A question though. Does this mean all my previous posts and comments from other people will be lost?
I was suppose to go to Ghana this June. This trip was scheduled after plans for my 45th High School's Reunion plans were set in stone. I want to do both. The Ghana trip was a "once in a lifetime" opportunity and I had to choose. Actually, there was no choice. My desire to go to Ghana reigned supreme.
When I learned than I would be unable to join the group on this adventure, I was very disappointed. I am still dealing with this disappointment, but acceptance has started to take root. I am now starting to look forward to the time spent alone, to just spend time with 'myself'. And now, I am fully committed to attending the reunion, sans husband.
The last few days I have been putting out feelers to secure a ride. ...Trying to find classmates, who now live in our section of town, willing to let me ride along.
One kind soul has offered to come south from the West Side, pick me up, then drive out to the San Fernando Valley for the event. It will be a long drive for her.
Last night, I spoke on the phone with this classmate. We didn't know each other in high school. In the nearly one hour conversation, she filled me in on some of her life experiences during the last 45 years. Some pretty big accomplishments and some difficult times. We learned a little about each other.
This morning, while thinking about this conversation, I started wondering whether I painted a false picture of who I am in my post "Mom Who". Not false exactly, but incomplete. I haven't mentioned much about difficult experiences and life challenge in this space. Like everyone else, I have had my share. And I know I will have to face more. That is life!
But these days, I am trying to change how I view each experience. I now realize that we can all make our own 'heaven' or 'hell'. It is all about how we look at things. How we perceive what is. It's all in the way we judge our circumstances.... We can cling to expectations that may never be met, or let them die away. And enjoy what things are.
I have decided that I will do my best to do the later. In making small changes in this direction, I have found that I am happier and more at peace. When I hear people say "I am too old to change". I think "PSHAW"! It's never too late. Some years ago, I heard a radio psychologist who had a pretty tough manner talk about happiness. She made reference to this quote:
"People are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."
-Abraham Lincoln (1809 - 1865)
Abraham Lincoln was right!
An old friend just sent this:
I generally don't ever forward anything I receive via e-mail
because these things sometimes are unwelcome.
This one made me laugh so I am posting it here.
You Know You Are Living In The Year 2003 When...
Your reason for not staying in touch with family is because they do not have e-mail.
You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of three.
Your grandmother asks you to send her a JPEG file of your newborn so she can create a screen saver.
You're within 10 minutes of your door and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home.
Every commercial on television has web site address at the bottom of the screen.
You buy a computer and 3 months later it's out of date and sells for half the price you paid.
Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have the first 20 or 30 or 40 years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go get it.
Using real money, instead of credit or debit, to make a purchase would be a hassle and take planning.
You forget what password you used for your last transaction.
You consider second-day air delivery painfully slow.
Your dining room table is now your flat filing cabinet.
Your idea of being organized is multiple-colored Post-it Notes.
You hear most of your jokes via e-mail instead of in person.
You get an extra phone line so you can get phone calls.
You disconnect from the Internet and get this awful feeling, as if you just pulled the plug on a loved one.
You get up in the morning and go on-line before getting your coffee.
You start tilting your head sideways to smile. :-)
You're reading this and nodding and laughing. Even worse; you know exactly who you are going to forward this to...
If you nodded at even half these comments, you understand.
The city is trimming our trees again. Since our city can't afford to do this on a more frequent basis, the trimming is usually pretty brutal. My heart always sinks to the bottom of my stomach when this happens. Our beautiful big trees are denuded for a long time afterward. Pete always tells me that this is necessary for the health of the trees, and that they have to be kept under control in order to save the streets, sidewalks and sewer systems. But I would prefer that the city fix broken cement, asphalt and sewers, than cut down trees.
I will not blog ... I will not blog.... Well. maybe just a word or two.
I wasn't going to blog today until I had taken care of writing my bio and buying the ticket for my high school reunion which is coming up in June. Pete will be in Ghana on the date the reunion is scheduled, so I am also trying to contact some classmates who are willing to let me ride along. I have gotten one offer by e-mail. I am looking forward to talking with this generous soul. Maybe this will be the start of a great new friendship.
This morning I posted this:
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MIKE AND MICHELE!
It appeared on the blog.
Later, I edited the post and added some other thoughts.
The original post disappeared but remained as a draft.
I have attempted to post and publish the same thing three times since.
Then I thought maybe I could just post
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MIKE AND MICHELE!
Until I could get some help.
So here it goes again. Hope you see this kids.
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MIKE AND MICHELE!
Today is Memorial Day. A day set aside to honor those who lost their lives while serving in our country's military service. Reading the paper today, I came across several remembrances of ordinary folk. I would like to add mine with a sincere thank you, especially to all the men and women who put on uniforms during World War Two to do battle against Fascism. I will never forget!.
The year was 1945. The wars had just come to an end in Europe and Japan. My parents had decided to sell their home and businesses in Minnesota, and make the move to California. My Dad and brother, David, stayed behind to finish the school year, sell the house and take care of all the loose ends.
My Mom and I got on a train equipped with sleeper compartments and headed west. At four and a half, this was a great adventure!
The train was packed full. Not with families or tourists, but with men in every kind of uniform returning from their military enlistment. I remember so many tall, handsome and affable young men, laughing and joking, always willing to give a lone little girl a friendly smile and a kind word.
An artless child must have broken the boredom for those wonderful guys who were on their way home. I soon enjoyed the undivided attention of the genial returnees.
At every stop, at least one of the men jumped off of the train, soon returning with a small gift. A little toy, a piece of candy, a ribbon. All for me. In between stops, I was taught card games and songs and was entertained by these patient folk. They talked to me and listened. They must have been starved for the simple sound of a child's voice, one who was unaware of the horrors of war.
My Mom was content to read as I wandered, but from time to time walked down through the cars to see where I was. In later years she told the story with great glee. It was a more innocent time. She had no fears that any one would cause me harm. We all had great respect and gratitude for those who served in that war.
Still, whenever I see a man in uniform, part of my mind returns to those days on the train. To those young brave men, who were so happy to be coming home, and who took some of their time to entertain a small girl. Thank You!
I didn't brush my hair today.
I didn't make the bed.
I didn't cook or clean today.
What did I do? I blogged!
I didn't pay the bills today.
Or go through any piles.
I didn't get my archives up.
I really don't know how.
I didn't wash the clothes today
I did no catching up.
I didn't watch TV today.
What did I do? I blogged!
I didn't visit friends today.
Nor go to the store.
My list of things to do today
Is longer than before.
I hoped to get some help today.
I know you have things to do.
The wait's been very long today.
Blogging genie, where are you?
The phone finally rang today.
The voice I had been craving.
I know I am obsessive
But Matt, my sanity you're saving.
So now I cease my typing.
The world is again a-right.
I wish you all a good tomorrow.
With that, I say good night.
I am impatient. I want what I want NOW! I want someone to work with me on my blog. NOW! Wouldn't it be nice if others didn't have their own lives to live? I don't really mean that. I want you to be happy. I really do!
I just hope when I hit publish, all of this afternoon's musings don't appear as well! How do you move something you have accidentally written in current to draft? If I the rest shows up here, know that I'm not finished yet.
Pete is sick. He woke up this morning feeling awful. Looks like a bad cold. He asked for his favorite comfort food; Cream of Wheat with lots of cinnamon. He prefers to be just left alone when he is sick. That's why I'm at the computer on Saturday afternoon. Send healing thoughts.
I'm getting absent minded. That is no surprise to Pete or the boys. This is what happened yesterday. In the afternoon while out and about, I glanced down at my left hand and noticed that I was wearing two watches. Two! While getting ready to depart earlier, I remember noticing that my ring was already on my finger as I strapped on my new great big-faced timepiece. I thought I must not have removed the ring the night before. ...Didn't even notice that I was already wearing my little gold Seiko. To be fair; I wasn't wearing my reading glasses at the time! When awareness dawned, this did send me and a friend into a great fit of giggles. Thinking of it now still makes me laugh. I guess it's all in the way one looks at things.
...Haven't mentioned much about the rest of the family in this spot. Surprising in a way because there are two little girls who inhabit my thoughts almost constantly. Our small granddaughters, Zoe and Mira are constant sources amazement and joy. I wanted to wait to talk about them until I learned how to post pictures. Meanwhile you will find some pictures here
Having this blog has been so exciting., has spurred my interest in learning how to do more things on the computer. Its just what I needed to make that mental shift from my old MAC to this PC. I am forced to learn simple procedures that move me out of my old comfort zone. Thanks guys! I can feel the synapses firing, and new cell growth going on within this old brain.
A special thanks to my lovely, multi-talented daughter-in-law, Michele. Without her in my life, I doubt that I would ever have gotten my very own computer. I will never forget the day that she stood in front of me, with her own arms akimbo, and said: "Judi, you need to get your own computer." She then firmly ushered me into her car and we drove to Computer City. She proceeded to demonstrate that Macintosh made a computer that actually had a simple tutorial that would teach basic use, starting with the function of the mouse. Her determination filled me with confidence and soon Pete had no choice but to give in. The estrogen level of our family had dramatically changed!
That brings to mind that old adage: No kind deed goes unpunished! Sorry Michele ... for taking up so much of Mike's time with all my questions. You're a peach!
I love to hear the my husband's laugh. While sitting here at the computer, a full hearted chuckle flows in from the bedroom. I had better join him and watch another rerun of Dharma and Greg!
Being a Mom was fun. My children always intrigued me.
I loved watching them and hearing them speak.
One of my favorite memories is of Matt when he was about 4 or 5 years old.
At our local park, we were sitting on the sidelines of the T-ball field during Mike's team practice.
Matt had quite a battle going on with his toy soldiers, when a dark cloud covered the sun.
The bright day suddenly became much dimmer.
Matt raised his arm to the heavens, shook his fist, and yelled:
"God! Bring back the sun!!!"
Ah, the simple faith of children.
Lately, I have been thinking about how we see ourselves, and how others perceive us. And, noticing that each person is perceived in a slightly different way by every person they meet.
We all play a multitude of rolls in this life. We all have multiple sides of who we are.
As well as we think we know someone else, he or she is only reflected though our own internal perceptions. We can never truly know another person.
It's a life long job just trying to discover ourselves.
I was told recently that a rose doesn't just plop open.
It slowly turns from a bud to a full blossom.
People are like that too. Life is a process.
We are still becoming.
No matter how we wish otherwise.
Take another look at the people in your life.
Are they who you think they are?
Are they the same as when you first formed your opinion?
Were they ever?
Anything's possible.
Pete has been out to dinner every night since returning from Kansas City Monday eve.
Is he seeing his other wife again?
Don't worry kids, it's an old joke.
...And I planned to stay away from anything political in this space!
For anyone who looked at the definition of conserve:
Yes, I only used those I liked. It's my blog!
Today, as I was walking into Trader Joe's, a man with a clipboard held it out and said "Recall Gray Davis". I said "No", and walked on. One person after another signed the petition. It's not that our Governor inspires me with great loyalty. I voted for him, but never have been an enthusiastic fan. While fully endorsing our right to petition for recall or solicit for bills to be placed on the ballot, I have become increasingly suspicious of the people that show up at the local market and malls. I think most of them are paid by people or organizations that have something to gain by fooling people into voting for things that are not what they seem.
...Then the internal rant began and I started thinking about "agendas"... Why is it that liberals are always accused of having agendas, but people who call themselves conservatives think of themselves as loyal patriotic Americans? It seems to me that Republicans have far more agendas than Democrats. ...And they are usually neither conservative nor more patriotic than those of us who ask questions. As I came out of the store, the man with the clipboard asked me again "Recall Davis"? I said "No, Recall Bush!" A man signing the petition smiled at me. And I got into the car thinking how I am still in love with the idea of the United States of America!
conserve
a: to protect from loss or harm; preserve:
b: to keep in a safe or sound state; to save; to protect
c: to avoid wasteful or destructive use
d: to use carefully
e: to protect our national heritage
Conservable (adj)
1. Capable of being preserved from decay or injury.
Conservancy (n.) n.
1. Conservation, as from injury, defilement, or irregular use.
Conservant (a.) a.
1. Having the power or quality of conservation.
Conservation (n.) n.
1. The act of preserving, guarding, or protecting; the keeping (of a thing) in a safe or entire state; preservation.
Pronunciation: kon-'serv
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): conserved; con.serv.ing
Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French conserver, from Latin conservare, from com- + servare to keep, guard, observe; akin to Avestan haurvaiti he guards
Date: 14th century
Help! What happened? I just noticed that my earliest posts have disappeared!
I don’t have an archive section yet.
And the date and time of the last post is wrong!
Super Sons, where are you?
Pete and I watch reruns of "Dharma and Greg". We don't watch a lot of TV together, but we both find ourselves laughing at this one. It's a nice way to relax together at the end of a day. Through the magic of TIVO the reruns are set to record automatically. ...Always noticed that after the credits, something flashed on the screen for a moment that looked like a page full of writing. And wondered, but didn't how what it was. One day I hit the 'pause' button and found something neat.
They are Vanity Cards. Written by the creator of the series, Chuck Lorre, they flash on the screen for exactly two seconds. Now I won't delete the episode without reading the Vanity Card, They can be silly, or sweet, sometimes a rant, but often profound. An internet search found a site where i could see the whole collection. The episode I watched last night had this Vanity Card at the end:
CHUCK LORRE PRODUCTIONS #7
I believe that the very act of believing in something causes us to distance ourselves from that thing, thus a duality is created: oneself and the thing in which one believes. Now since we all know that in order to fully understand a thing one must be that thing -- walk a mile in its shoes so to speak -- it seems obvious that the state of believing in something inevitably causes us to not truly understand that thing in which we believe. This noncomprehension leads to all sorts of difficulties. "I believe in love" has a better than even chance of leading to divorce, while "I believe in God" seems to end in variations on the Spanish Inquisition. But -- and it's a big but -- if one were love, one couldn't help but be affectionate and caring towards oneself and others. If one were God, one would act toward all beings and all things as if they were one's own creations. And that, my friends, is the secret of life in a two-second vanity card. Of course, the secret could also be "Sit, Ubu, sit." We have to keep an open mind.
"duality"
It seems obvious to me that the "fall from grace" began when the human brain decided that dualities were reality. At that instant, we distanced ourselves from truth forever. I believe that all other life forms live in a state of grace because, to them, things are not good or bad, they simply are.
What do you think?
Yes, I know I watch too much TV! And now there is blogging....
Last night Mike called on the way home from work. He does that a lot. He is a good son. I excitedly asked him some questions about how to do things on this blog. He said he would call me after the girls are asleep to help. Blogging is so much fun.
I was thinking about a remark Matt made this this weekend about this online journal being something of a personal history that is being put out there for the future. I like that! I think it is a good idea to pass down family stories and glimpses of who we are to those who go on.
As Mike and I were talking, he said: "It sounds like you are planning your funeral, Mom." I admitted that I am always planning my funeral. I know just what I want.
It's hard for kids to talk with their parents about their passing. But we should. In the end it is easier.
We actually discussed the topic about this inescapable happening. Interestingly, Mike and I share some of the same crazy thoughts about what we think would be neat, ...some of which are not legal in the State of California. I don't think it's morbid to discuss these things. I think it is sensible and somewhat comforting to know each other's feelings long before we have to face the inevitable.
When I mentioned a song I wanted played, Mike warned "That is a powerful song, Mom. It could release strong emotions." So what? People feel strong emotions at funerals and they cry. That's OK! That's what funerals are for. You know ... the "rite of passage' and all that stuff. That is how we move on. There is no reason why this rite can't be one of celebration, which includes laughter and tears too. In fact, I don't see how one can see a loved one pass on, and not feel some grief. It's part of what makes us human.
Remember, I want to hear Louie Armstrong singing "What a wonderful World". You can sing along.
Sunday, Matt and I drove out to South Pasadena to go to the school district's Fun Fair. A taste of small town America. There were lots of people. I realized that Mira and Mike had found us when my littlest darling smashed a confetti egg over my head. I love confetti eggs. They are just plain fun, and always bound to bring about giggles. They are messy though. Two days later, I am still finding remnants in the most unlikely places. In my view, that just adds to the fun!
[edit]
In a recent post, Matt expressed himself about a pet peeve at the market like this:
"Why are you still writing checks? The other day I was in line the supermarket and not one, but TWO, people in front of me paid for their groceries with checks, despite the fact that is the year 2003. And they didn't just use checks. They seemed to revel in being as slow, meticulous, and inefficient as possible. They went through the whole, tedious process fishing through their purses for a pen, doing the math in the ledger of their checkbook ("hmmm, let's see... carry the two... no wait, what's six from fifteen?..."), carefully printing out the "TO" line, asking the checkout girl for the date, carefully creasing the check before tearing it out, and so on... I so wished for a moment I could be Cyclops from X-Men and blast them into ashes with laser eye-beams... Such would be the fate of anyone who uses a check in front of me in line if only I had the gift of mutant superpowers..."
OK, I can certainly understand and can sympathize. I have felt the same way myself. However these days when things like this happen, I am trying to look at it a new way. And it works pretty well most of the time. Think of it this way. There is nothing you can do about the situation, but you can change how you react. This is a good time to take a moment to just breathe.
Let yourself feel the breath filling your lungs and a giving every cell some much needed oxygen. You can even close your eyes for a second. Mentally wish the culprit well, turn to the person behind you, smile and say something about the weather. Most of the time when I try this, the mood changes, an interesting conversation begins, time passes quickly and I end up having a pretty good time. More and more I am aware that we only have this moment. We might as well enjoy it.
Of course when I told both Matt and Mike my take on this, they didn't agree. OK, OK, I know that no one asked for my advice. But I am a Mom! And, I am telling you this for your own good!
Of course you can always just "blast them into ashes with laser eye-beams". Or do what my Dad did and give them "the stare". I guess that works too.
I've mentioned how I love gathering factoids. Reading books of quotations is another indulgence. I find them inspiring, comforting, fun and helpful at good and at difficult times. I have lots of favorites. Here is one I would like to share with you today.
Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.
John Wesley, 1703-1791
English evangelist and founder of Methodism
I'm a Mom.
When I grew up, the main goal of most young women I knew was to become a wife and a mother. To have homes and families like the women we saw in the movies and television. Few people actually lived that kind of life, but we didn't know that. It was what we aspired to. We thought that was what other families were like, and what we thought was normal. My family wasn't like that. My mother worked. Finances were a struggle. There were tensions and difficulties. Things didn't always work out at the end of a day, or the end of a week. But my parents worked hard, did their best, provided for our needs and saw that my brother and I were given a good education.
Few occupations were considered appropriate for women, and those who aspired to do other things were actively discouraged. Of course there were those brave few who would not be dissuaded. Women who were the exceptions. But it was not easy, and most had to give up much to follow their dreams.
Luckily for me, my greatest dream was to have that idealized kind of life. I didn't want to work outside of the home. I wanted to marry a man who I could love, be a homemaker and raise perfect, wonderful children. I got my dream. I married a good man. I had the privilege of being a stay-at-home mom of two perfect sons who have grown into men I admire.
When things changed for women, I was thrilled, but my dream didn't change. So when if asked to describe who I am. My first thought is that I am a wife and a mother!
Of course I am more than that. I am a spiritual being who is living this lifetime in that role. This has been my dharma.
I came back to the computer to send a quick e-mail before I settled into my cosy bedroom. ...Just realized I forgot to ask Mike or Matt if there is a simple way to spell check these entries before I post them. So if either of you read this, let me know!
The position shown on the graphic. The guys uses to say "OH OH!" It's a "double hipper" when I tried to show them I WAS SERIOUS!
Matt is in town. He is probably regretting his Mother's Day gift. It took a long time to change the font and comment section. He just taught me how to link. Again! Next he has to enlarge the links box and add some kind of Mom Who? section. Ecetera, Ecetera.
I'm practicing. Check these sites. My son, Mike. My daugher-in-law, Michele. And these: Heidi: Martin: Jennifer: Dumb and Funny: The dullest blog in the world:
It looks like I am about ready to go again. Matt has redesigned my blog as my Mother's Day present. He told me last night that I could take a look. This has been the first opportunity. I really like it! Love the graphic with my arms akimbo!. Thanks Matt.
Now to put my old attempts in archive, figure out how to spell check, add links and photos.
From Dictionary.com
a-kim-bo ( P ) Pronunciation Key (-kmb)
adv.
In or into a position in which the hands are on the hips and the elbows are bowed outward: children standing akimbo by the fence.
adj.
Placed in such a way as to have the hands on the hips and the elbows bowed outward: children standing with arms akimbo.