Blogging Reunion and WP Family Award

Congratulations to two of my favorite bloggers who have both received The WordPress Family Award. Their blogs are Virginia Views and Mama’s Empty Nest.

Congratulations to Dor of Virginia Views who received the WordPress Family Award. To know Dor through her posts is to know she is a wife, mother, grandmother, good friend who pays tribute, patron of her Virginia culture and blogger, of course!

And congratulations to Cindy, who cherishes family, her own family and her church family. I completely understand how Cindy was drawn to accept this award and brings her feelings of family with her. In every post she writes or photo she posts, I admire the cleanness and warmth in her writing and the clarity of her photographs.

Thank you, Dor and Cindy, for thinking of me for this award, the WP Family Award. When nominated twice for this same award, I take it as a delightful compliment that leaves me smiling inside.

According to the description of the award, I understand that The WordPress Family Award is “reserved for folks in Cyberspace who are unceasingly kind, sympathetic, encouraging, and open to laughter – and who keep each other going by sharing, commenting, and making personal connections even though they may actually be virtual strangers.”

Rules:
Display the award logo on your blog.
Link back to the person who nominated you.
Nominate others you see as having an impact on your WordPress experience and family.
Let your Family members know you have awarded them.

When I made plans to visit daughter in CA, my thoughts also turned to possibly connecting with WP family members. I advised two blogging friends that I would be in the area, and both readily made plans for our link up.

Since I have traveled to the west coast recently and met up with two blogging buddies, rather than nominate ten, I want to simply write about connecting with two ladies, as our linking up face to face, certainly speaks to the spirit of “family” in this award. I know they may have “award-free” blogs, and if so, I hope they take this as a compliment and a thank you for their kindness and support over time.

My daughter, grandson and I met Deb of the Monster in Your Closet and her young son for brunch one Sunday morning. My heart stopping moment was walking up slightly behind and beside her, gently tapping her on her shoulder and saying, “Hi, Deb. It’s me, Georgette.” I recognized her immediately! We hugged for longer than a perfunctory hug and then couldn’t wait to find a table. Deb, daughter and I covered a variety of topics: children, school, writing, our immediate family members, you name it…we could have talked for hours.

Then we made plans to walk along the beach. We left the restaurant and at the appointed spot we parked, then walked a trail following a tunnel under the freeway. Deb explained her L’il D likes big kids and my daughter responded that her third grade son likes little kids. It tickled us to watch our two l’il guys walk hand in hand identifying squid, octopus, fish, dolphin, shell and starfish motifs painted on the asphalt trail. We talked more when we arrived at the beach finding a place in the sand…how our paths first crossed, and the subsequent posts and comments after meeting. All the while, the boys ran large circles around us thrilled by the waves, a roosting seagull, and all that sand. Since my daughter was with us, she inserted questions and we both found ourselves answering. Daughter agreed. Deb is very special, and very nice…an amazing woman of substance. Can you tell I’m a fan?

Then on another day daughter and I made our way to Malibu, to our appointed place to meet up with Rosie from Wondering Rose. I told daughter I needed to get a memory card for my camera as I had left it in my home desktop. I had missed out on photo ops with Deb and I didn’t want to miss any more with Rosie. Daughter found a Radio Shack. Yes! Please know daughter’s best friend who lives in San Francisco also, told her to be sure to eat at the Marmalade Cafe in Malibu and then of course, the specific point of meeting Rosie was “GROM”. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS? Daughter found Radio Shack, and right next door was GROM and right next door to GROM was the Marmalade Cafe. Talk about serendipity…synchronicity…whatever!?? I stood in the parking lot taking pictures of GROM with my phone. Then, went into Radio Shack. Rosie had seen me taking photos out in the parking lot, figured it was me and then met up with us inside Radio Shack! Such a surprise! She is so warm, funny and engaging!

As we entered the cafe, I immediately loved how she talked to people around her…chatted it up like she does online. We ate at the Marmalade Cafe, took a long walk on the beach and then ultimately returned to GROM for a mango sorbet, chocolate Biachio and GS (grandson) had chocolate chip.

mango and bachio chocolate

Why GROM? Rosie and her husband have enjoyed Italian gelatto at the original GROM in Turin, Italy. When one opened up in her area, she has posted about it and raved about it. It was natural for her to suggest meeting up at GROM and I couldn’t wait to experience it.

The Marmalade Cafe which is next to GROM which is next to Radio Shack

What was it like to meet face to face? The initial introductions were joyful. And then with Deb and Rosie it was like meeting an old friend and picking up from where we left off. We both nestled in to the familiarity of already having connected.

Is it different meeting someone in real life as opposed to just blogging? What was fun was to speak eye to eye, exchange glances, enjoy the tone and excitement in our voices, hear the laughter and laugh together, see the smile and smile, negotiate every day stuff like ordering a meal and parking…reading each other like family and friends…not just through written words. Don’t get me wrong…all of us in this blogging journey, long to write. It’s what engages us and we appreciate, value and cherish the printed word…how these words are arranged and the message they deliver.

Do I feel it’s necessary to meet a fellow blogger? No, I don’t, but because we both had a connection, we felt it was right and I’m so glad we did. When I see a seagull, it will be a long time before I forget L’il D and my grandson delighting in the one that chose to roost near us. When I eat ice cream, I will be comparing it to Rosie’s fave at GROM’s.

It’s not practical to meet all our blogging friends, but I think it stirs up the possibilities of all kinds of connections…a new kind of destination in our travels, the acquaintances we meet. Like family reunions that occur often or not often enough, we remember them.

Hitting the Mark and Boomerangs

Who doesn’t like getting a wonderful gift? Even better, isn’t it fun when you surprise the recipient and perhaps yourself, in finding the perfect gift?

I think my husband is the most fun to shop for. Our first or second Christmas married, I got Rick a roll top desk. I thought it was in keeping with his traditional tastes and I thought all the cubbies would inspire him to keep things in special places. For Christmases when the girls were growing up, Santa always had a “toy” for Daddy in keeping with his playful spirit. A remote aircraft carrier, caterpillar hauler, an airforce jet. Not only did he enjoy them on Christmas day, the girls did, too. Having grown up with brothers, toys for boys weren’t foreign to me at all.

But then, I’ve picked up some boomerangs, things I’ve just loved but came right back to me. On a trip to the Olympia Peninsula with my mother I raved about some flannel moose pants…red with black mooses all over…I just had to have them, a souvenir of this wonderful trip. I got a pair for myself and even my mother agreed they were cute. I got some for her. Then it occurred to me to pick up a pair for tomboy daughter who loves camping. Years later my mother’s pants came back to me. Then daughter gave me her pair back. She and mom must have collaborated on their excuse because it was the same, “They never really fit right,” each said “I know how much you enjoy them.” “Yes, but three pair?” And the excuse was a bit unbelievable for a one size fits all gift. Sigh!

Stuff just doesn’t matter any more…unless you’re a child.* Being together is the best gift of all. My gift to myself at the end of this semester? I’ll be traveling in May to visit daughter #1 and GS1 and hope to connect with a few blogging buddies on the west coast. Also, Memorial Day weekend is coming up and both girls will be with us for their almost twin birthdays, just a few days apart.

*I remember my grandmothers always brought us a gift when they came to visit. Moesje who came from Mexico brought figurines, leather wallets, a Mexican silver ring, handknit slippers. My grandmother in Alaska brought scrimshaw, a small eskimo doll with a fur parka, or something else she had sewn up for me. My dad always brought something home from a business trip. Something to enchant, something to remember them by. Something that let us know they had chosen it just for us.

I’ve packed something special for 2 little guys out in CA and I hope they enjoy what I’m bringing. (wink)

One Moment in Time

How many moments have I remembered and tried to capture in my chair that swivels and rocks? Many!

Mama at Mama’s Empty Nest has nominated me for an award that just in it’s title attracted me to accept. I want to thank her for this particular recognition.

I have opinions. I can take a stand. I can analyze questions. However, it’s the universal moments of family, connections, Nature, travel and teaching I am trying to seize, preserve and remember that put me in my chair so I can savor them, capture them the best I can and pass on to family members and my wonderful readers.

So please, go visit Mama’s Empty Nest and indulge me as I follow the rules for the Best Moment Award: 1)Placing the award on your blog (lined up on my Awards Page); 2)Answer a few questions; and 3)Nominate some of your favorite bloggers (there are so many, please look at my blogroll, so please don’t feel slighted if I missed you).

Best Moment Award Questions:

Who inspires you? Folks who do for others. A former boss carried a spoon in his pocket as a reminder to “serve.”

What is the hardest part about blogging, if any? Trying to take it to the next level.

What is your favorite quote? This one by John Wesley may be impossible to live up to, but is so beautiful: “Do all the good you can, By all the means you can, In all the ways you can, In all the places you can, At all the times you can, To all the people you can, As long as ever you can.” John Wesley

What is your favorite dessert? Strawberry shortcake — it has fruit– that’s good, it has cake — we all deserve our cake and eat it too — and it also, has whipped cream which I pretend is like eating air.

What skill do you wish you had taken the time to learn when you were growing up? Learning to sew like my mother’s mother.

What is the one activity you wish you had the time to pursue? Sailing.

If money was no issue, where would you like to travel? I would love a buddy pass to visit every member of the family whenever.

What is your favorite holiday? Mama, said it. “Hands down, it’s Christmas.”

What is your favorite pastime? Getting lost in a good book.

What book are you currently reading? The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Do you play a musical instrument? I took piano lessons, but will never play as well as my grandmother or brother who never had lessons.

These are my nominations for the Best Moment Award. I know some of you are already nominated for this, or you are award free, but I want you to know you have brought me wonderful moments. In addition, look to the right at my blogroll. These bloggers also provide moments to savor and remember. (Click on their blog names to visit them!)

This Man’s Journey – the Island Traveler who savors every moment, and every week with family, then shares those moments with us.

These Days of Mine translates her moments into days.

Emjay and them who lives each day in her self-styled way.

A New Day Dawns who shares her wonder in the creatures who visit her often. (I know she has an award free blog.)

TexWiseGirl shares moments daily and on weekends! Her artistic eye captures Nature’s creatures, their fur, feathers, beautiful eyes and hangouts. Catch her 5 de mayo post today…always a sense of humor. She’s on blogspot and my absolutely favorite crossover from wp. She has an award free blog, too. Click on my blogroll to visit her.

The Monster in Your Closet whose kindness and strength shines through in every post.

johannisthinking (new to our community)

Preveena (also, new to our community, her archives are one month old)

I’m continually inspired by the music of Whitney Houston from New Jersey. She certainly got it right in her music.

Thank you for the wonderful moments in this blogging journey. I’ll be traveling and tending to things, so would like to let you know I will be posting, reading and commenting as I can in May and June.

Erasing Water Marks on Wood

I have written about a sleepover we hosted at our home during our daughter’s high school years. Besides learning that with the help of other parents, we could host such an event, I learned something else that night. My standard fare is not hints from Heloise Georgette, but I did learn the following that night and I think it’s worth passing along.

Someone had placed a cool coke can on the piano leaving a water ring on the wood. Not wanting any more woodwork to fall casualty to water rings, quickly, I gathered up all the coasters I could muster and announced, “Please use the coasters.” I didn’t point out the culprit can, just made my announcement and slid a coaster under all the cups and cans I could find, hoping everyone would follow suit of using them.

One mom, must have read my thoughts when she noticed the ring. “I think I can fix that,” she offered.

“What? How?”

“Do you have any walnuts or pecans?”

“Yes.”

She cracked a nut I gave her and took out the meat of the nut. She broke it in half showing the white of the nutmeat.

“Here, rub on and around the ring. We can fix that. It won’t work if it dries, but I think we can fix it now while it’s pretty fresh.”

Both of us rubbed and sure enough the oil from the nut erased it!

Wow! It was that simple!

I think back on those moms who stood by us chaperoning that night helping in every way possible, and remember how grateful I was for their support, erasing the ring of my apprehension.

Gulag Sullins

Daughter #1 was in drill team in Texas. She was one of those Southern Belle rockettes who kicked the highest of kicks, smiled the widest of ruby red smiles and yes, she was blonde. Oh gosh! I had prayed for a beautiful daughter, and she was beautiful! She loved to dance and we supported her in this activity.

Back around her junior year, she was elected social chairman. She and her drill team sponsor asked if the team overnight could be hosted at our house. Sure! I answered. No problem. We have plenty of room. We’re supportive parents. If our daughter and the drill team director ask, we will answer affirmatively. The rest of this story is from a parent’s perspective.

And then that cognitive dissonance started to set in. What in the world had I agreed to? A drill team of approximately 50 girls was going to spend an overnight at our house! Oh no!

After all I was a teacher at her school. What if…? What if someone sneaks out? What if someone smuggles something in? I could answer for my daughter, but 49 others? What have I done? I kicked myself.

There was no turning back. First, I figured the best insurance policy was to have moms aboard to chaperone…one for almost each room in the house. Each of us had to promise not “to fall asleep on the job.”

Second, I thought we need food, movies and activities to keep them all entertained.

Third, my thoughts turned to the telephones…”Rick, can you please find the old cord phones and connect them to the wall jacks?” “Sure, but I think we only have one.” So I got on the phone asked some parents to bring an old cord phone to the booster meeting. By the night of the overnight we had one in the kitchen, one in the back room, one on the upstairs landing and still another in the wet bar area. No, I didn’t want to be surprised by long distance charges or mysterious phone calls initiated with portable phones that could travel to points in the house where we couldn’t be — like the bathrooms.

And then, it hit me. There’s no way I wanted to risk someone sneaking out. We could lock the doors…but oh goodness, there are windows. So I suggested to my husband we get a house alarm system that for this event would keep kids in — and in the future ward off intruders. Oh high fives…I had thought of everything! But then, I grew afraid that I was becoming a bit of a prison warden.

Not that I should have questioned the integrity of these lovely ladies…but girls will be girls and I really didn’t want the talk of the school on Monday morning be “…did you hear that the drill team TP’d X’s house?” or worse. No, I was not born yesterday.

So at the booster club parents’ meeting the drill team director and I reported to them the plans for the over night. The director would conduct some team building activities, and the mom chaperones and I would keep their girls entertained, fed, safe and secure promising to stay awake for the duration. I told them about the phones. No pagers, no cell phones, and yes they would have access to a phone, but corded ones — not portable ones. I told them about the spanky new alarm system. I was apprehensive as “Gulag Sullins” came to my mind as the director, chaperone moms and I reported. Having the fun turn into Gulag Sullins was every bit as scary to me as the possibility of my daughter accusing me of ruining her social life. What in the world had I agreed to?!

In the end the parents were tickled that we had thought of everything. Daughter thought it was all great fun as she remembers it, and in twelve shortlong hours 8pm-8am the whole thing came and went and was over. Whew!

A Very Tall Texan

Rick and I are empty nesters so in heading north to Dallas to visit one daughter who has left our nest, I felt we had time and should make time to stop at a monument that looms so tall, it just begs us to pay tribute. We had passed by it enough times and that afternoon it was time to stop. You can’t help but notice this white larger than life statue. Although located on a busy highway outside Huntsville, TX, it still surprises passersby when they see it standing as tall as the loblolly pines surrounding it. That afternoon, it called us to stop, beckoned us to notice and pay a visit to a favorite son of Texas, Sam Houston.

You can see it in the distance, and as we took the exit to the visitor’s center, I questioned whether we could get a picture of it in one frame.

Bless my husband, because he took the exit and easily found the entrance to view it up close.

A view from the east

A view from the west

This Texan can boast not only governor of Texas but also, governor of Tennessee. In addition during his lifetime, he also served as a representative in the House and as a senator.

representative, governor, senator, President of the Republic of Texas

Free mason

He was a free mason, which legend says saved Santa Anna from a sure death at the battle of San Jacinto as both leaders, the tall Texan and the Mexican general were both free masons. As members of the same fraternity, Sam Houston gave orders not to kill Santa Anna but rather, spare his life and take him prisoner.

The visitor’s center reminds me of Sam Houston’s home in Huntsville with the breezeway through the center of the house.

Sam Houston Visitor’s Center

I have seen Napoleon’s tomb, Les Invalides in Paris and the enormous rain god Tlaloc outside the entrance to the Museum of Anthropology of Mexico City. I have visited our Statue of Liberty (111′) in New York and the Washington Monument in DC (555′). And this too, my friends is Texas-sized, a 67 feet tall statue not including its pedestal.

Sculptor and artist: David Adickes, 1994

For the record, Sam Houston was 6 foot 2 inches. That would make the statue almost eleven times his height.

It seems Mr. Adickes is decorating our highways with more Texas sized sculptures. On a drive to my mother’s house he is erecting the sculpted heads of our Presidents off Hwy 288 in Pearland, TX. I remember seeing four but now there are six!

Is there something you have passed by time and time again, but finally paid a visit?

Related articles

• The Story of the Battle of San Jacinto (kommonsentsjane.wordpress.com)

Another view of Sam Houston by Hank, John and Johnny
for a chuckle. For so many years, Huntsville was known as a prison town. I think this statue makes the folks of Huntsville proud for another reason.

Our Doll House

It became clear to me that my mother-in-law and her sisters were thrilled that my husband and I had girls. With the girls came dolls, dolls and more dolls!
Aunt Dit poured a ceramic head and painted one doll’s eyes blue and the faintest blush on her cheeks just like I remember her. Aunt Jo did the same but her doll’s features came out stronger. Brighter lips, darker eyes and rosy cheeks just like her. They sewed by hand the most beautiful white dresses and completed their look with pearl white shoes.

Aunt Dit and Aunt Jo’s handmade dolls

Then came the pillow case dolls with no features or limbs, just a head with bonnet and a lovely lace pillow case dress.

More dolls came in boxes and according to the aunts the box was as valuable as the doll. “You have to save the box,” they insisted, “or it will lose its value.”

“Huh? Dolls in a box?”

One thing for sure, I knew I wasn’t keeping such lovely things in boxes in a closet only to be taken out every once in awhile.

“How many are we going to get?” the girls would ask me.

Besides Grandma K, Aunt Dit and Aunt Jo, my mother and my aunt brought others. Then the girls found special ones on our travels.

The blue and pink were hand-pieced by my mother-in-law.

So it occurred to me, that we needed a house, a piece of furniture to house those dolls! And as I thought about it more, I told the girls, “We’ll only get as many as the doll cabinet will hold! That’s it! No more! That will be enough!”

The Doll House

I think we have enough! Believe it or not it took years to fill that house with “enough” dolls but never too many memories!

PS The boxes are carefully stored so that they “don’t lose their value.”

Listening to the Rain

I remember getting caught in the barn with my father-in-law, Papa Charles, one morning as it started to rain. I had walked out with him to feed the cows, nothing more than push some bales into the cow trough that lines the whole right side of the barn.

“Oh gosh, it’s such a downpour we better wait it out,” I said.

“C’mon. Let’s lie down here and just listen to the rain,” he suggested.

“Cool,” I thought as I had never done that during a rain storm. I loved simply stepping up, climbing, and lying down on the highest bales and watching.

Watching from a high pile of hay bales, first I lay on my stomach to watch the cows munch and gum away at the straw. I admired how smooth the boards of the trough had become, worn down along the side of each board after years of feeding from the trough.

Then I just lay on my back listening to the roaring beat of rain on the metal roof of the big barn feeling very quiet and still inside.

I’m feeling very quiet this week while the news roars around me.

The big barn with a rusty metal roof.

The smooth worn slats of the cow trough that line the right side of the barn.

Step Outside

Crazy weather this past week and it’s April. We’ve had temps from the 80′s down to the 40′s. This made me think of the following story.

I keep this note in the plastic pocket in front of my grade book to remind me to be aware, to step outside of the tasks of a lesson plan or the serious concerns of the “academic progress of a student.” It reminds me of a bigger picture.

The note came one day, a regular very routine morning when I usually arrive early to class, sometimes up to an hour to set up. My class one semester was in one of the portable buildings. It was cold that morning, probably unexpectedly cold. I greeted a student sitting outside the door of the adjoining class. I unlocked my classroom door, entered and went to the thermostat to start up the needed heat to make the classroom more comfortable. It wasn’t my intention to arrive early to turn on the heat. It just happened that way.

Then it occurred to me. There was this student outside the door of the adjoining class. Her classroom door was not open yet. It was not chilly but cold outside and all she was wearing was jeans, flip-flops and a light top. There was still a good 30″ minutes or more until class was to begin. I opened the door. She was still there waiting for her classroom door to be opened.

“Do you want to come in? I just kicked on the heat,” I mentioned to her. She stepped inside. I don’t remember any further conversation. I was setting up, recording grades or grading. I don’t remember. Then she was gone as my students started entering some few minutes before class.

At the end of class, I gathered my things to pack up, and one of my students came back in to hand me this note.

“Here, a girl told me to give this to you.”

How I wanted to simply thank her for the warming kindness of her note.

Old Trees and New Trees

We have lost many beautiful trees — the tall pines that lined the driveway and grand old oaks that used to have swings hang from their limbs — to storms, lightning and the drought. I wrote about the hauling of that timber last Monday here.

Here are some that remain.

Flat top tree

Beautiful oak

Bald tree to the side of the house. Bald on top but lovely cedar branches that shade below.

The twins near the front pond.

Shade for the barn tree

Woodpeckered tree

When a tornado swept through the farm in the early 80′s, the mighty oak that shaded the house and stretched out a limb from which we could swing fell. Neighbors came with their saws to help with the clean up. We mourned that tree, thought it irreplaceable.

Then, another tree, in another storm, fell in the circle of the driveway in front of the garage. But my mother-in-law planted a tree from an acorn. My how it has grown! Rick has his eye on hanging another swing from one of its limbs.

Now you see it, now you don’t

Rick has counted 32 trees lost since the drought. Here is one he felled 2 weekends ago. He had to cut the trunk into logs to haul it off.

Now you see it…

…now you don’t.

As trees fell, they scattered limbs everywhere! So we came this weekend to pick up all we could. We picked up and hauled off 3 trailers of limbs on Saturday to build burn pile #4, the continuing series.

one of three hauls

A game we played: shoot sticks in the spaces and holes. Some went in, others bounced off.

The burn pile Rick and Georgette built.

What to do about all the small tinder, leaves and bark? We used a shovel and then swept it up.

The remains of the day…we used a shovel and a broom.

There are 4 burn piles set to go when local officials say it’s all right to burn.

In between haul #2 and #3 Rick mowed the lawn. It looks so much better now. I wound up hose, swept, dusted, threw out trash and tidied up the back porch.

All mowed! A little dizzy from all the work.

 

The driveway is cleaner now. Rick doesn’t want a dry stick to puncture a tire!

And the front? We will need to return, but we made quite a dent!

More weekends lie here.

We headed home and stopped by Dairy Queen famished to eat a burger.
Braked for this sunset.

Got caught in traffic by the Showboat Drive-in movie.

No movie for us. Headed home straight to a shower and bed.

We Brake for Wildflowers

Off to the farm on Saturday afternoon. There’s a lot of work to do before it gets blazing hot this summer. Here’s a little of what we saw on the trail to there.

Oh, there’s some. You fill up the tank and I think I will walk over…

…closer.

A river of yellow as far as we could see.

And then a sea of yellow!

There’s some bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush in front of the farm!

These are along the road.

Looking down the front fenceline.

A “snake’s” eye view.

Rick brakes for hawks.

Across the road from us – soft and pretty.

In the pasture prickly pear cactus from the side of the gator.

More pictures coming this week. Tomorrow I’ll post a little of what we got done on Saturday afternoon.

Once upon a ring…not a fairy tale

I attended a ladies’ retreat several years ago with members of my church family. I enjoyed the fellowship and I still remember the exchanges we shared on Friday and Saturday probably more so because of the story I’m going to tell.

When we got to Sunday I accompanied a member of our congregation who was blind. We took communion and as we did, I looked down at my engagement ring and noticed the diamond was gone!

“I can’t cry out at a moment like this,” I thought. The service was carefully planned by our minister and his wife and it was perfect.

When the service was over my friend thanked me for helping her with the logistics of the service. And then she asked “Is there something wrong?”

Relieved to share my dilemma, I told her I had just discovered the diamond was missing from my engagement ring. I took my ring and her fingers so she could feel the empty prongs. “Oh,” she gasped. “Y’all she lost the diamond in her ring.” She called attention to what I just couldn’t do. Disturb the moment. Yet, I thanked her. All my friends searched in the patterns of the carpet where we had been sitting. No diamond.

My thoughts raced searching for some significance to losing that stone now, in this place, among friends during a perfect weekend. I also scolded myself for trying to tie my losing the diamond to a significant answer. “It’s lost, that’s all there is to it.” Others had shared stories of loss that weekend — loved ones, sight, their health. The diamond given to me by my husband was the least among such losses. Rick would understand. Or would he be terribly hurt…I had to find that diamond!

I couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness. In denial, I kept looking at the prongs–empty–gone. Who knows where? I wanted to think angry thoughts. I even asked, “Why God, would I lose the stone, now, on a weekend like this? Why would you poison the memory with loss?”

“It’s somewhere, and if it’s here, I’m going to do all I can do to find it.”

I went to the elevator we had taken, and I alerted the concierge and bellhop. I returned to my room, searched the bathroom, bed linens and then just sat in a chair by the window. I called housekeeping to be on the lookout. Then I saw a glint by the foot of another chair. I got down on all fours and YES it was the stone from my ring!

“Thank you, God” I prayed in gratitude. I picked up my luggage, placed the loose diamond in my coin purse and when I got to the lobby many inquired about the diamond. “I found it! Thank you so much for your help.

The concierge probably eager to not incur any further mishaps on his watch gave me a sticky note and tape. “Here, for safe keeping.” So I stuck it onto that slip of paper and safely put it in my purse.

The diamond is stuck to the right. Thank you, Mr. Concierge.

In a way, I realized it wasn’t about me that day. I thought of all those who were affected by my loss. My friends, the hotel employees. My prayers were answered and so were the well wishes and prayers of others that day. I returned home to tell Rick this story and what could have been a routine annual retreat is not a blur but remembered by me, Rick and others. “Remember when you lost…?” they still reminisce. No this wasn’t a fairy tale but it certainly had a happy ending.

Easter Egg Hunts

Every year inside or out, always
An egg hunt, eggs to be found.
Sister 1 enjoyed her hunt
Then l’il sis came along and we
Enjoyed even more fun.
Rabbits, jelly beans, chocolatey treats.

Each year a memory
Girly dresses so flowery.
Gloves, bonnets, purses and oh-yes cute shoes.

Happy times many
Until they grew up and moved away.
New scenes to replay
To share with the grands.
Such great memories to come again some day.

As I sit in my chair that swivels and rocks, I remember sitting in another chair in the back yard waiting for daughter #2. As I came closer to my due date, we enjoyed a tiny, small Easter egg hunt of one.

Daughter looking, me waiting and Rick capturing the moments.

Daughter #2 was no less excited. So excited she didn’t change clothes, take off her bonnet or gloves for the egg hunt in our back yard.

I found one!

Just a few years later, we drove out to the farm. You can tell by the expressions on their faces they were ready to change into something more comfortable. No gloves that year.

Pictures first — then the Easter egg hunt!

Perhaps that was the year when Papa Charles told us over the summer, he had found an Easter egg that had been left unfound.

Questions

Questions©
If I ask you a question,
it may not be because
I don’t know the answer,
or don’t have an answer.
It may be because I want to know your point of view.
If you ask…I may share mine.
–Georgette Sullins

Last week a blogger I follow, aFrankAngle posted another reflection in his “Religion and Science” category. I like Frank’s blog as his categories are wide and varied, his posts always positive and his comments gracious. His readers benefit from his sharing all he knows. Although I have a category for “Spiritual Things” I do not have one for “Religion and Science” yet I was intrigued by this category on his blog and delved into it one afternoon back in December.

Sometimes I comment more than a soundbite, and such was the case when he posted “On a Coin Analogy” on March 18 when he encouraged me to make it a post. You may want to read his post here to understand the context in which I reacted. On one side of the coin are god-centered religions and on another agnostics and atheists. You’ll have to read his post to identify the agnostics and atheists and how they support their claims especially in regard to science. I find these discussions very mind boggling and I’m not sure I can contribute to them. In fact if I were to throw a coin in the air marked Christian, among the god-centered religions, on one side and agnostic/atheist on the other, I would fervently wish that it would show up Christian. But it’s all more than a question of two sides as Frank points out. There are many metals forged in the coin. And being the daughter of my father who always searched for connections between theology and science, I felt compelled to respond to aFrank’s post in the following way:

“Very interesting post. A few months ago I explored your Religion and Science category…probably around the time I decided to “follow” you. Thank you for these thoughtful reflections.

Who can’t be engaged by Carl Sagan, who in his very voice articulated wonder with his “bbbbillions and bbbbillions of stars”?

I found it very moving and faith affirming to finally have read the Bible in my 40′s, then re-read it again a few times more. My faith was a bit shaken in my 20′s when I read Miguel de Unamuno’s “San Manuel Bueno, mártir”, the story of a priest who didn’t believe, but I like to interpret as an exploration in doubt. Across the years, I have thanked Unamuno for his philosophical work, that gave texture to my religion and faith that encouraged me to doubt, not out of lack of faith, but because I wanted to deepen my faith. Reading Unamuno before I read the Bible equipped me with questions. I love a simple faith of “trust” as you put it, the simple faith of a village or the questioning faith of “Blasillo” el bobo, “Dios mío ¿por qué me has abandonado?” (My God, Why have you abandoned me?) but also, I want my faith to be hammered out as the coins and metals forged you refer to.

All these perspectives [the atheist and agnostic ones aFrankAngle referenced in his post] and respect for them provide much to reflect on to deepen our faith as strong as a thick woven tapestry.

I love the church my husband and I have elected where we could hear one of our ministers who held a doctorate in physics…I trusted he would lead me down many roads that would offer perspectives…not answers, perspectives.”

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On Palm Sunday I heard a sermon on Luke 19:36-40.
As he went along, people spread their cloaks on the road.
37 When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:
38 “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”
40 “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

Indeed the stones, mountains and stars would cry out and they do. I could barely contain myself when I heard our pastor deliver a sermon over these verses on Palm Sunday. Just as I thought this post was written, nothing more than a comment to post, “the stones cried out” again.
I thank aFrank, and these verses that my pastor called to my attention encouraging me not to be quiet.

Tapestry my mother-in-law brought back from the Holy Land, Section 1 of 2

I want my faith to be as strong and colorful as a tapestry. Tapestry my mother-in-law brought back from the Holy Land, Section 2 of 2

Perspective: I am the daughter of my father. My dad was suspended among cultures. He was a Dutchman born in Mexico who made his way in the US as a rocket scientist. In a quantum leap from his daily work, he taught me about love. I knew he knew a lot, and in spite of that he communicated to me that just simply returning to his family was always enough for him. He taught me much about theology, religion and science. How? I asked for answers, but he simply pointed me to readings: Tillich, Neuber, Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther. He wanted me to create my own perspective, not adopt his. So I read. From theologians I added philosophers, too. I read Unamuno, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche. And many years later, I read the Bible several times where I found answers and a faith perspective.