Is It Too Much To Hope. . .

. . .that this could possibly be for real???

Here.

Sammy Says, "Happy Halloween!"

Sammy says, "Happy Halloween, Everyone!"



Out Takes – What he really thought of being Elvis. . .




Have a great weekend!

Sequins and Pumpkin Rolls (Not Together of Course!)

I'm all in the Halloween/Fall spirit today. I think it has something to do with finishing Sammy's costume this morning. I'm not sure that he will be as excited as I am but that remains to be seen. The big reveal will be tomorrow! Stay tuned!

Here's a teaser. . .

I'm also looking forward to trick or treating tonight. This is the first time in more than 30 years that I've lived in a place that will actually get trick or treaters. I've either lived in an out of the way apartment or out in the country. Now, if the kids and the dog will just cooperate we should have fun tonight!

Maybe because of all the fall spirit I've been thinking about making a Pumpkin Roll. It's one of my favorite recipes. I just don't make it very often because it's so fiddly and takes so long. In case you're in the mood, here's my Pumpkin Roll recipe! Enjoy!

3 eggs
1 cup white sugar
2/3 cup canned pumpkin
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
confectioners' sugar for dusting
1 cup powdered sugar
3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons butter, softened
8 ounces cream cheese

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Grease a 15x10x1 inch baking pan and line with parchment paper. Grease and flour the paper.

In a large bowl, beat eggs on high for five minutes. Gradually add white sugar and pumpkin. Add flour, cinnamon and baking soda. Spread batter evenly in pan. Bake for 15 minutes or until cake springs back when lightly touched. Immediately turn out onto a linen towel dusted with confectioners sugar. Peel off paper and roll cake up in the towel, starting with the short end. Let cool.

To Make Filling: Mix powdered, vanilla, butter and cream cheese together till smooth.

Carefully unroll the cake. Spread filling over cake to within 1 inch of edges. Roll up again. Cover and refrigerate until cold. Slice. Dust with additional confectioners' sugar, if desired.

Great Pumpkin Memories

Last night we watched It's The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown! The cartoon strip Peanuts has always been my hands-down favorite. Even as I kid  I think that I sensed that there was something deeper and more real about Charlie Brown, Lucy, Linus and all their pals than the other cartoon characters on the pages of the morning paper.

Much has been written over the years about Charles Schultz and his famous cast of characters. It's widely known that Schultz battled depression and struggled with a very complex personality. Maybe that's what made Peanuts so much more real.

Watching with Ali last night, I was transported back to my childhood again.

Linus is the star of The Great Pumpkin. He holds onto an irrational belief that if he just hangs out in the best pumpkin patch that he can find – if he just believes enough – then the Great Pumpkin will come and reward him with toys and candy. Linus believes , above all else, in sincerity.

"The Great Pumpkin always picks the most sincere pumpkin patch to rise out of. He's just gotta pick this pumpkin patch. He's just gotta! Look around. You can see that there' not a sign of hypocrisy anywhere. Nothing but sincerity reaching out as far as the eye can see."

I guess Linus was always my favorite character. He's kind – especially compared to his sister Lucy. He always carried a security blanket* – so did I. He sucked his thumb years past age appropriate behavior – so did I. He was way too serious for his age – so was I. Linus acts as the ensemble's philosopher and theologian. In A Charlie Brown Christmas Linus quotes a huge passage from the Gospel of Luke. Guess I kind of grew up to do that too.

As we were watching last it made me feel kind of nostalgic and a bit sad. Halloween isn't what it used to be. My mom used to help us create our own costumes out of paper bags, her old make- up and whatever else was around the house. We were Indian Princesses, hobos and scarecrows. It was innocent and fun. Sometimes we were even witches.

In the last 20 or so years fundamentalist Christianity has hijacked Halloween. They have turned it into "Harvest Parties" and used it to try to scare people into some sort of salvation experience with Hell Houses and the like. It angers me that adults with hidden agendas will do these kinds of things to pervert something innocent and fun.

Guess I'll just stick with Peanuts on this – and many other things.

Charlie Brown: Oh brother. When are you going to stop believing in something that isn't true?
Linus: When YOU stop believing in that fat guy in a red suit and the white beard who goes, "Ho, ho, ho!"
Charlie Brown: Obviously, we are separated by denominational differences.

* trivia – it was Charles Schultz, through Peanuts and Linus that coined the term "security blanket."

Small Pleasure

My morning snack was a small pleasure today. It was one of those moments that made me feel grateful that I was paying attention and not multi-tasking my way through the moment without noticing the small things.

It was a Honeycrisp apple.

I'm kind of an apple snob I guess. I like them sweet, but not too sweet. Crisp. Never, ever mushy or mealy. Just about the only apple I will eat raw is a Fuji. 'Til now anyway. The Honeycrisp is both sweet and tart. They've trademarked "explosively crisp" to describe the texture of this hybrid of a Honeygold and Macoun. 

I think it was the best apple I've ever eaten.

There is something to be said for slowing down, enjoying what is right in front of you and being grateful for the small things.

Hmmmm. . . there are four Fugis on the counter at home. . .maybe Ali will eat those and I'll go get some Honeycrisps just for me!

*What's your favorite apple? Maybe there are other ones I'm missing out on!!

101 in 1001: #40 & 41

40. Organize the craft room.
41. Paint the craft room.

Check. And check.


Yep. It's (reddish!) orange.


Yep. We love it!



We are going to use this idea to spruce up the walls. It will also be a good way to display all the photos we love to take.

All the furniture came from IKEA except for the the folding chairs which I found at a garage sale for $5. They were already refinished! Thought that was a steal!

We are very happy with the outcome and looking forward to some winter evenings creating interesting things!

A Tribute

Just as I was dropping off to sleep last night a little voice came out of the darkness that said, "Are you going to put a tribute to me on your blog tomorrow?"

"Yes," I replied. "I was already planning on it."

All evening she had been singing ". . . and I think to myself – Happy Birthday to MEEEEEEEE. . ." (to the tune of What A Wonderful World sung by Louis Armstrong) She was in the bathtub singing to herself. I was in the kitchen making dinner. 

She sings all the time. Sometimes I wonder if she even notices. If she doesn't know the words she just makes something up until she gets back to the familiar parts. It makes both of us laugh.

Today is Ali's 31st birthday. And I can't get that song out of my head.

I see trees of green – red roses too;

I see 'em bloom – for me and for you;

And I think to myself – what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue – clouds of white;

Bright blessed days – dark sacred nights;

And I think to myself – what a wonderful world.

The colors of a rainbow – so pretty in the sky;

Are also on the faces of people going by;

I see friends shaking hands sayin' how do you do –

They're really sayin' – i love you.

Our relationship is a surprise. Every day is something new that makes me laugh and makes me grow. And for that I say thank you.

Happy Birthday Ali. I love you.

This is the birthday "cake" I brought her in bed this morning. After making her wish and blowing out the "candle" Sammy promptly ate the whole thing! Candle and all! We both promptly wished him the mother of all tummy aches today!

Speaking of Hope

This is the first election year that I've sported a bumper sticker for my candidate of choice. I believe this is the most important election year that I've ever been alive for and I'm excited by the groundswell of energy by younger people in this election cycle. 

Barack Obama makes me want to be involved. He makes me hope for the future of this country even in the midst of watching the news and hearing nasty campaign ads and loudly declaring that we're moving to Canada.

Such is the power of hope.

And, it is a rare thing for me to have the overwhelming desire to hug a 4-star general. But when Colin Powell went on "Meet the Press" on Sunday and endorsed Obama that's exactly what I wanted to do.

My excitement didn't really stem from the the endorsement. It came from what he said after that. He pointed out that although Barack Obama is a lifelong Christian, whether he were Christian or Muslim shouldn't matter.

Colin Powell's own words:

"Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer is no. That's not America. Is there something wrong with a seven-year-old Muslim American kid believing he or she could be president? Yet I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion that [Obama] is a Muslim and might have an association with terrorists. This is not the way we should be doing it in America.

"I feel particularly strong about this because of a picture I saw in a magazine. It was a photo essay about troops who were serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay, was of a mother at Arlington Cemetery and she had her head on the headstone of her son's grave. And as the picture focused in, you could see the writing on the headstone, and it gave his awards - Purple Heart, Bronze Star - showed that he died in Iraq, gave his date of birth, date of death, he was 20 years old. And then at the very top of the head stone, it didn't have a Christian cross. It didn't have a Star of David. It has a crescent and star of the Islamic faith.

"And his name was Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan. And he was an American. He was born in New Jersey. He was fourteen years old at the time of 9/11, and he waited until he could serve his country and he gave his life."

That is the vision of the country I believe in. 

Now go vote.

My Mother's Purse

I have a friend who is going through a thing in life right now. That thing is a cancer diagnosis for someone he loves. It's a serious diagnosis – Stage 3 that has metastasized to two other places in her body.

He is familiar with the challenges that come with medical diagnoses. But they have always been his. 

This time, he's on the outside looking in.

He is a Christian. He loves God. But he's not feeling particularly connected. He asked me to pray for him and his mom because he doesn't really know how to do that right now. I will and I am. But I want him to be able to do that too.

I've had many conversations about prayer over the years with many people – most smarter than I. There are so many theories about prayer. Not many of them have resonated with me. And then I read something a while back – I have no idea where – that brought this image to my mind. And it makes more sense to me than anything I've ever heard before about human connection to God in the form of prayer.

Prayer is like my mother's purse.

When I was a little girl of 6 or 7 I wasn't terribly confident.  I was terrified of getting left somewhere and no one realizing that I was missing. I was also terrified of being kidnapped. That image dominated my mind for quite some time when I was about that age.

The way I dealt with it was to hang onto my mother's purse. It always hung from the crook of her arm. It was the early 1970's and rather than shoulder straps, her purses had short handles that she hung just above her wrist.

It was at the perfect height for me to grab onto whenever I felt unsure.

All I ever needed was one small touch on her purse to feel connected. That was all it took for me to feel less apprehensive or anxious. When I felt better I would let go and move back out into my little world.

Touching my mother's purse wasn't going to keep me from wandering off. It wasn't going to keep me from losing track of where my family was and having them move away from me when I was looking away. Heaven forbid – it wasn't going to keep someone from whisking me away if that was truly their intent.

But it made me feel safer and more secure.

Her purse was always there.

Perhaps that's all prayer is. A short touch. A moment of reassurance in a world that seems to spin crazily out of our control. It's a moment of connection with God that can make us feel less anxious, a bit less apprehensive. 

Prayer won't keep the most difficult challenges we might ever face from happening.

But it will keep us connected to the most powerful source of love and hope and strength that we may ever find. And all it takes is a short touch. A mental touch to remind us that we are loved.

Robe-less

I did the ceremony without the robe.

And it felt perfect. There was no nervousness. There was no discomfort. There was only that electric current that traveled my spine that I missed so much. The electricity that only comes when I'm speaking outside myself. In reading this blog post this morning I was moved as it begins to describe how I feel when I am privileged enough to communicate on God's behalf.

"...what we are doing is gathering to bear witness to something we don't quite grasp, cannot quite explain, but recognize when we see it. We call someone a priest. I would paraphrase the sermon as saying that someone called to ordained ministry is called around to stand in the middle of a field of grace and play...play so that all the world may know of God's grace."

That's what it felt like on Saturday in the rose garden.

But I think it only felt that way because I didn't wear the robe.

N. & N. asked me to wear it when we planned the service. I had it in the backseat on the way to Columbus. And then I had a moment of insight. And when I did, my nervousness faded and my confidence returned.

For me, in that moment the robe symbolized the expectations that other people have of the person who is putting it on to do ministry. It felt as though, in the sheer act of buttoning it around myself, I would disappear and in my place would magically appear someone whom everyone expected perfection from.

It felt as though external expectations would be stronger than my reality.

That may not be true and it may not be fair but it's been my experience in ministry. 

Nevertheless, for a few sweet minutes on Saturday afternoon I remembered. And I gave thanks.

Nerves

For those of you who are praying folk – I'm a bundle of nerves.

A very good and old friend since college has finally found of the love of her life. They have asked me to perform their Holy Union service. I said yes.

It's tomorrow.

I'm not nervous that I won't do a good job. . .we've planned a very creative, meaningful service.

I'm not nervous about speaking. . .I think the homily will be kick ass. Equal parts humor and seriousness.

Here's where it is. I have this scared "here we go again" feeling. The kind of feeling that says "don't set yourself up to get all excited" – using your gifts and all. . .

I'm sure it will be fine. It will be a beautiful day in a Columbus rose garden. The people will be incredible. God will be there and there will be a party.

I just hope I am there for them – after all, it's not about me.

Mirror Image::2

Mirror Image
n. An image that has its parts arranged with a reversal of right and left

The conversation went something like this:

(JD) Mickey Dolenz is going to be in town! Do you remember the Monkees or are you too young? (T) I’m just a little bit too young. Weren’t they on TV around 1967?
(JD) Yeah. . .1965 to ’68. (T) Yeah. I was born in ’65.

(T) I’m more the age of Shawn Cassidy. Do you remember him? I had his posters all over my room. Hey, you remember Leif Garrett?? I had posters of him too!

(JD) Of course I remember Shawn Cassidy!!!! I’m gay. . .remember???

Wait a minute. . .you don’t get to be gay when you want to fit in or take part in a conversation and then turn around tonight and go to some Homosexuals Anonymous meeting in order not to be gay anymore! That’s not fair to those of us who really are gay and have dealt with it.

You can’t do that. . . can you?

Those of us who have officially earned our membership cards in the “great gay fellowship” would never do anything like that. Once we learn the secret handshake and have received our second or third toaster oven as a reward for recruiting new members into the club we never act straight. Not even when we want to fit in or take part in a water cooler conversation at work. . .do we?

Mirror image indeed.

Mirror Image

Last week I met JD* for the first time. We made small talk. He seemed nice. Quite talkative.

The “let me get to know you questions” gradually got a bit more personal. At first I was vague and then I decided that if he had the courage to keep asking things, I would answer truthfully. I thought that as the answers got more honest he would become uncomfortable enough to stop asking.

Do you go to church? Sort of.
I’m United Methodist. I used to be. I used to be a missionary in the United Methodist Church.
Really! (looking excited to have made a connection) Where did you serve? At an inner-city church in Toledo.
That must have been a great job! What did you do? (deep breath) Adult spiritual development with gay and lesbian Christians.

The color drained from JD’s face. There was a long, awkward pause. I maintained my gaze. He looked away as his face flushed.

How can you do that job as a missionary? Were you telling them they couldn’t be gay anymore? No. I’m gay. I was helping all of us learn that we don’t have to separate who we are at home and in our hearts from who we try to be at church. God already knows us. We can’t really hide these things from God.

Extended silence. I went back to what I was doing. He turned away and went back to his task.

I started to feel bad. We were going to have to spend time together fairly regularly. “What if I made him really, really uncomfortable?” I asked myself. “Well, he shouldn’t ask questions he doesn’t want the answers to. . .”

A few minutes passed and then he said, “Can I tell you something? I’m gay. But I don’t want to be. I go to meetings so God will change me.”

We looked at each other.

“I’m not going to judge you,” I said. “You have to live your life and make your choices.”

He looked relieved.

“I try not to be gay,” he said. “Nobody would love me if I was. My parents. . .my friends. . .I couldn't handle that.”

I was silent – not knowing what to say to that.

“I won’t try to change you either,” he said.

“OK,” I agreed.

Life throws funny curves doesn’t it? I look at JD and I look at myself and it feels a bit like there’s a funhouse mirror settled right down between us.

Mirror Image
n. An image that has its parts arranged with a reversal of right and left

For the next few months I may continue writing about JD and me. If I do, I will title the posts Mirror Image.

*John Doe – obviously if you know who I’m writing about please be confidential.

Color Walk

Random images from a walk we took with Sammy on Sunday afternoon. Fall colors amaze me.

If you click on the image it will open in a new window to see the photos with more detail.

The Find of a Lifetime

Saturday afternoon we were returning home from the dog park when we saw a sign that said SALE. I drove by kind of slow and Ali said, "We HAVE to stop! It looks like good stuff!" I had my doubts but turned around anyhow.

This is what we brought home.

Guess how much? 

$40.

No – I'm not kidding. 

What's that wood called with the grain that goes in all those directions? I know it has a name. . .

Here We Go Again. . .

"Deputies responded to a domestic call at a Strong Avenue residence at 3:14 a.m. Thursday, after a man got upset that his girlfriend had given the last pickle to her son. No arrests were made."

Why do I read the docket every day? For this kind of entertainment! Am I alone in wondering why three people were awake at 3:14 am – eating pickles?? And how a pickle eating occasion devolved into an affair that necessitated an invitation being extended to the Sheriff's Department???

Maybe I enjoy the docket because it makes my life seem so ordinary. And boring. 

And, maybe most importantly, normal.

It's All Good

A few years ago when I worked at a church in Toledo I became friends with a young African American boy named Travis. He was a pre-teen and came to the church looking for friendship and guidance. One of the things that Travis would always say was, "It's all good." When he got into trouble his way out was to remind us that, "It's all good." I think he meant that, even though it might not be the best situation, it would be all right.

My devotion time this morning was spent with the first chapter of Genesis. The creation story. God taking seven days to form the world and its creatures. Nine times in this chapter God said, "It was good." It doesn't say that it was perfect. It doesn't say that it was flawless. It just says that it was good.

For the past couple of days I've been struggling. I have a difficult time not allowing other people's criticism of me to not affect my self-worth. It's hard for me to allow other people's assessments of me to be theirs – not mine. I get down and it can be hard to get back up.

This morning I was gently reminded that I am not perfect. My life is not perfect. But is it good? 

It is.

And You Should Too!

Sammy's Field of Dreams

It was a beautiful weekend. On Saturday afternoon we took Sammy to the K-9 Field of Dreams at Riverbend Recreation Area. It's a one-acre, fenced, off-leash amusement park for dogs. I think Sammy thought he had died and gone to doggy heaven.

He was a little overwhelmed when we first arrived. As you entered through the double gates there was a welcoming committee of hounds waiting to pounce on the the new guy. He got a little anxious as he immediately got swamped by 4 or 5 big dogs. The fear lasted about 17 seconds. Soon all we saw of him was this:

He has the funniest looking flat out run – it's more of a frog hop, back end affair. I suppose he'll grow out of it but it's awfully cute for now.

Notice the fire hydrant he's running towards? Too funny. There's a "time out" pen for misbehaving canines; picnic tables for humans to sit and chat; a baby pool for dogs who like water and a small shelter house currently under construction.

Sammy made friends very quickly.

He played ball and "fetch the stick." He also played "you chase me and then I will suddenly chase you" with all his new friends. Whenever he got a little overwhelmed by all the newfound fun he would come back to the safe spot.

He came home a slobbery, sweaty, stinky mess. There's nothing quite like being around a happy dog. And that makes us all feel good.

FO – BSJ

If you don't knit, you were probably just thinking, "WTF?"

It's knitter-ese for Finished Object! Baby Surprise Jacket!

If you do knit, and you didn't know what FO – BSJ was, you better just surrender your knitting needles right now. The Zimmer-maniacs are on their way to your house I write this.*

This Elizabeth Zimmermann pattern is something of a benchmark for knitters. If you can figure out the piddly little amount of instructions to actually knit the thing and have it look like a baby jacket you are on your way to becoming a "real" knitter. This pattern is surrounded by folklore, gushing praise and outright Zimmermann worship.

It is a cool piece of knitting. But I get tired of all the Zimmer-mania. She was an incredibly gifted visionary and marvelous knitter. But if you never knit an EZ pattern in your whole life, you can still be a "real" knitter. 

There. 

I. Feel. Better. Now.

The genius in the pattern is the engineering. You knit up a weird looking little squarish blob of garter stitch then fold it just so and (hopefully!) you have a cute little jacket!

Now I just have to come up with a baby to give it to!

*Just in case you thought I was kidding about EZ worship check out this. Or this. Or this. Get the idea?

You Ain't Nothin' But A Hound Dog

I have this crazy idea for Halloween. I want to make Samson a costume based on this –



And then add these –



He's too big, but I can use this for a guide –



We're taking bookings for our limited engagement tour on the evening of October 31! Book early! I'm sure slots will go fast!

Let's Get This Study Started!

In response to this post, an even dozen brave souls have responded with interest. Way more than I expected.

I'm excited!

How about Wednesday nights? Say, 7:00?

I ordered the curriculum today. I will let you know when it arrives and we will get started! Look for an email from me to let you know the exact date and location!

If you want to join the fun, it's not too late.