Seven Small Things #134 - 140

{carside dinner at the rootbeer stand :: that's two Spanish dogs, french fries, onion rings and two old fashioned rootbeers :: and yes, they still hang the tray from your partially open car window :: and no, they don't serve you on rollerskates}

{the tin roof, over our car}

{since 1949 :: if you take your own gallon jug they will fill it with rootbeer for $2.90}

134. Dinner at the rootbeer stand

135. The local herb society's plant sale this morning. We came home with lavendar, basil, several varieties of oregano, eucalyptus, sage, rosemary and some poppies.

136. Black and white, spotty dogs who nap in a puddle of sunshine.

137. Girls named Ali who also nap in puddles of sun.

138. Going to the butcher store today. There is something reassuring about seeing exactly where your food is coming from and remembering that not everything should come covered in plastic and styrofoam.

139. Singing in the car.

140. How dog armpits are always warm.

Seven Small Things #127 - 133

127. The cardinal on the roof next door.

128. That it's Friday evening. I wasn't sure I had enough in the tank to make it through today.

129. I vacuumed tonight while Ali mowed the yard. That's two tasks off the weekend to do list that leave more room for fun!

130. Offering of myself, even when it's not taken. At least I offered.

131. The possibilities that feel so real on the eve of the weekend.

132. That in the state of Connecticut, two very dear people to me are getting married this weekend. Married, for real. . . and they are both girls. They keep hope alive for the rest of us.

133. For farm eggs. Those pale, white things in the store are just an sad imitation of the real thing.

Seven Small Things #120 - 126

{the birthday girl! happy birthday carol!}

120. Surprise birthday parties!

121. Finishing Rob Bell's new book Love Wins. Ought to be recommended reading for everyone who has opinions on Christianity and Christians. Ought to be required reading for every one who calls him/herself a "christian." {don't even get me started on how Baptists ought to read this one. . .}

122. For the sound of the wind in the trees.

123. Finding one piece of gum in the car when you desperately need it.

124. Getting the go-ahead from the doctor to try again. His words of warning – you were extremely lucky to get pregnant on your first try. Don't assume it will happen again.

125. Coffee.

126. That Gabby Giffords will be there tomorrow to watch her husband take off in his final mission on the space shuttle. You go girl.

Seven Small Things #113 - 119

113. It's well documented that Samson hates thunder. It's also well documented that Oliver is possessive of what's "his." This morning we had thunder and lightening. Samson needed a place to go. This is Oliver's crate. . . That is Samson's stress drool all over Oliver's back. . . Oliver doesn't seem concerned about anything. . .

114. Lectio Divina and interesting people to share it with.

115. Pizza when you don't want to cook.

116. Sitting down together and compiling a list of questions for the doctor, mostly because I can't go along for the appointment.

117. Tiny flowers, in tiny vases, picked from your garden.

118. A benadryl, for when I need a little extra help sleeping through the night.

119. The dog hair on the floor, the dirty windows, the mud and the dust. . . because it means we have a home.

Reflections

{the reflection of St. Andrew's United Methodist Church in the Glass Block Building, Sandusky Street, Findlay, Ohio}

Seven Small Things #106 - 112

106. That giant yellow orb in the sky. . . I think it's called a sun??

107. Being so busy at work today I completely lost all track of time.

108. Drinking the first mint from my garden steeped in a tall glass of iced coffee.

109. For all the good memories I have of spending time with R. He's going to be staying permanently in the nursing home so my time with him is finished. My heart hurts.

110. That I didn't get caught wearing my flip-flops to clean the warehouse tonight. I forgot to take my closed-toed shoes so I just acted like everything was hunky-dory. And it was!

111. For little dogs who retrieve. Until they are worn out.

112. Taking the long way home tonight just so I could take a picture. It will be here in the morning! =)

Seven Small Things #99 - 105

99. For rainy mornings in the car. I like to hear rain on the roof of things.

100. As I sail past 100 with this small gratitude journal I am grateful for the change that 100 small things has brought to my soul. I look at the world differently. I find myself expecting to find things to give thanks for. How might I feel after 1,000? Maybe we will see.

101. For a break in the raindrops just long enough to grill our dinner.

102. For the power of memories. Happy birthday Mother!

103. For little arguments that clear the air.

104. The profile of one little fat cat, curled up on the kitchen table placemat.

105. Big, comfy chairs paired with good books.

It's Your Birthday

Dear Mother,

When I wrote the date at the top of the cleaning clipboard at the warehouse tonight I suddenly remembered that it's your birthday. I had to do the little thing in my head I've done for the last 46 years to remember whether your birthday is the 25th or 26th. April (your birthday month) comes before June (Cindy's month) so you are the 25th and she is the 26th. You would think I would have figured it out by now, what with 46 tries and all.

I'm sorry that I forgot until tonight.

Does that happen to you yet, when March 15 rolls around? Do you think all day long that something is kind of off, and then suddenly it dawns on you, "Oh yeah. . .today is the day I gave birth to my firstborn?"

It's OK if it does. I get it.

I hope someone took you out to dinner tonight. I hope is was someplace nice. You've cooked too many meals in your lifetime to have to cook your own birthday dinner too.

Did Dad bring you flowers?

Guess I better wrap this up. What with not knowing what to say really, and knowing you won't know I wrote it anyway. Just wanted you to know that I remembered.

And that it still matters.

Love,
Tan

Seven Small Things #92 - 98

92. My great-grandmother Lily used to say, "If it rains on Easter Sunday it will rain the next seven Sundays." I guess we're about to find out!

93. For the encouragement that comes from this morning's sermon – "Why do you look for life among things that are dead?" When the Easter baskets are empty and the hunt is over, I still want to be filled with you.

94. For our biggest purchase of the weekend – more of Donor #11306.

95. Church was so full this morning we were forced to "save seats." What a great problem to have!

96. For bunny tracks someone printed all down the sidewalk of our street. Some of the tracks led up to front porches where I assume small children live.

97. For dogs who need baths, getting them.

98. For the fresh start that Monday mornings bring.

A Love That Lights The Sky

{photo credit here}

Now that's an Easter message if I ever saw one. . .

Seven Small Things #85 - 91

85. One huge, bigger than expected, amazingly fun Easter Egg Hunt at Journey.

86. The quiet contemplation and expectation that is Holy Saturday.

87. An impromptu lunch with friends.

88. Spring mud between your toes. That grass at the Easter Egg Hunt only looks dry. I finally just took my shoes off to shoot yesterday and nearly had mud to my knees!

89. Finding relatives you didn't know you had. Ali met someone at church and it turns out that they share brothers who were their great-great grandfathers!

90. My hostas are beginning to sprout for the season. They are my favorite group of garden plants.

91. My new Kindle! {I caved. . . I couldn't stand it any more. . .}

Seven Small Things #78 - 84

78. A week full of rain ~ surely it will eventually lead to some spectacular springness, right??

79. For lessons in patience ~ after a week of being Kindle-less I'm miserable. We went to the two places in town that sell them and they are both out of the cheapest model.

80. For late night movie dates ~ The Conspirator was worth the lateness.

81. Being able to comfort shaking dog during a thunderstorm. All it takes is to let him up on the bed.

82. That bad moods pass.

83. That I don't have to go to the laudromat any more. Muddy dog feet x 4 feet each x 3 dogs x 1 week of rain = a lot of little white shop towels to wash every week.

84. For the smell of bleach.

Seven Small Things #71-77

71. Celebrating Passover - what a meaningful way to make the story come alive all over again.

72. Pansies

73. Matzoh

74. A table full of friends to celebrate with.

75. All the grape juice you care to drink.

76. Sacrifice

77. Cheesecake!

Seven Small Things #64 - 70

#64. Sleeping through incredible thunderstorms.

#65. Trying Black Bean Veggie Burgers for the first time. Verdict - not bad. . .not bad at all!

#66. The forsythia on the corner of our house blooming with such a yellowness it almost makes your eyes hurt.

#67. Piles of dog food in the middle of the kitchen floor because Sammy refuses to eat out of the bowl.

#68. The process of embracing reading glasses, when every instinct in my body says "just pretend you can still see!"

#69. Sharing.

#70. How, in the process of creating, everyone has the same instructions and everyone makes something unique and beautiful.

At Night

Since entering my middle years, I've had a hard time sleeping. I wake up at two or three in the morning and my mind races. I worry. I fret. I think about things I have no control over and even though I tell myself that worry is a useless endeavor, I just keep right on doing it.

Very occasionally I pray. I suppose I'm telling myself it's the perfect antidote to worrying.

My prayers at that hour go something like this – "Dear God, here I am. Not sleeping again. Do you think there's something you could do about that? . . . I'm still waiting. . ."

And then, suddenly one night my breath was knocked from my chest and a story I learned as a child came rushing back.

“There was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. This man came to Jesus by night and said to Him, “Rabbi, we know that You are a teacher come from God.”

I took a deep breath of panicky dismay.

I'm him.

I'm Nicodemus.

You see, just like me, Nicodemus only came to Jesus at night.

When the noise of the day was over, when he was left alone with his thoughts, and the night invaded his soul, that’s when he found Jesus. That was when he admitted he needed Jesus.

I’m no different.

It is in the night that I want to talk to Him. That's the time I feel the need to share my fears and dreams, and hear to listen for his whisper, “I love you.” I want to know he and I… that we’re good. It is in these dark hours, I sit beneath the cross, staring up at the lifeless form of my king, and I thank him for all he’s done for me. I stare past the crown of thorns at the dark sky, and notice the solemn twinkle of each star. I wonder how far away each star is, and I marvel at the greatness of creation. I wonder at the immensity of his plans.

And in the morning, I go to work.

I forget about the night-time conversations.

I forget about the cross, the crown of thorns, the solemn stars.

I forget about Jesus.

And here I am in this Holy Week, hearing the Easter message. Here I sit beneath the cross. I thank God for all my blessings. And then, by Thursday surely I will deny that he deserves a place in my day.

And, God forbid, that he deserves a place in the immensity that is the rest of my life.

Seven Small Things #57 - 63

57. For thunder that rolls across the sky and makes me stop just to listen and see how far it goes.

58. Bartering.

59. Unexpected guests with an hour's notice - just enough time to sweep and dust! {sort of!}

60. Holy Week, and its related introspection.

61. Dogs with selective hearing - she can't hear "sit down" but merely walk past the treat bucket and she's right on your heels.

62. Dry socks on a wet day.

63. The UPS man who was still smiling and still friendly even though he hasn't finished his route at 6:40 in the evening.

The Sound of A Breath

{most of the verses in the Bible that mention breath • my own original digital artwork • click to make it bigger}

“The letters of the name of God in Hebrew… are infrequently pronounced Yahweh. But in truth they are inutterable….

This word {YHWH} is the sound of breathing.

The holiest name in the world, the Name of Creator, is the sound of your own breathing. That these letters are unpronounceable is no accident. Just as it is no accident that they are also the root letters of the Hebrew verb ‘to be’… God’s name is name of Being itself.”

~Rabbi Lawrence Kushner

Seven Small Things #50 - 56

50. Making something for dinner that Ali raved over! {grilled tilapia, steamed acorn squash, brown rice and fresh asparagus}

51. Tenth Avenue North on my ipod while Delilah and I walked.

52. That I'm now third in the Biggest Loser Contest. The prize is $190 and since I broke my Kindle last night I really, really, really want to win!

53. The fair trade palm cross we got at church yesterday hanging on the edge of my computer screen at work, reminding me what grace means.

54. All the things that are suddenly blooming, in spite of the temperature only being in the 30's.

55. The puzzle table in the middle of the living room that brings Ali such relaxation.

56. Two little dog noses in the window welcoming Delilah and me home tonight.

Seven Small Things #43 - 49

43. Adorable little kids, marching and waving palms.

44. Big wind that turns curly hair into an absolute afro whilst walking the dog.

45. Vacuum cleaners that really suck up dog hair.

46. The possibility of snow tonight. . .{really???}

47. The sound of Oliver crunching his dinner.

48. ER doctors who know what to do for Grampas.

49. {watch to the end. it's powerful. and thought provoking.}

This Little Light of Mine

Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

~Ephesians 6:13-17

One of the favorite teachings in the Southern Baptist denomination is about putting on the armor of God. It begins in the youngest of classes with teachers putting flaming felt darts on a flannel graph and warning children about sins that are going to be hurled at their tiny bodies when they aren't looking and how they must defend themselves. It continues with songs for the middle grades and sermons for adults. The encouragement is to "suit up" and head into battle. Be prepared. On guard. Ready to fight.

And so begins the struggle I dealt with for years.

The urge to defend God. The instinct to argue. The rationalization that it was perfectly acceptable – and probably best – that I simply write off those who refused to understand God the way I did.

I grew up in a faith that harbored anger for those who lived in a way that was different than what was taught under our very large steeple.

And so the armor was important. Airtight. Snug. Nothing came in and nothing went out of the armor. Made me ready to fight. Whenever and wherever.

And then I came to the realization that no matter what I did, I was not going to to conform to my church's standards for what a "christian" was either. I found my primary relational connections with girls, not boys. And no matter how hard I tried, how hard I prayed for God to make me different, God didn't. No matter how many tears and threats and barters, God just waited me out.

And that armor began to itch. And then I too got written off by those who were supposed to love me most.

I became afraid of God. Of church. Of Christians. They were so ready to "fight the good fight" in the name of Jesus and ready to wage war against whoever and whatever that they forgot that there were hurting human beings outside their breastplates of righteousness and shields of faith.

Years passed. Time healed the wounds between me and God and here is what I think I've come to know now. God doesn't call us to fight. At least not in the manner in which people of faith often find themselves. We are simply called to love God, love others and to stand firm in love.

I've come to believe that most of the issues that christians pour their energies into have absolutely nothing to do with salvation. They have nothing to do with loving people into relationship with God. People of faith are simply called to know what we believe. To let our actions speak for themselves. To be kind. To be Christ-like. And I see no evidence in the Bible of Jesus wearing armor.

These days I have no problem interacting with those who are different from me. I don't get angry when they question my faith. I'm not afraid of those who try to find God in a way different than I do. I don't feel the need to stand in judgment over what I don't understand. I now see it as an opportunity. Instead of feeling the need to defend God I just want to let a little light shine through me.

And here's the other thing I've learned – armor just doesn't let much light out.

Don't be afraid. Stand still and see the salvation of God. God will fight for you. All you need to do is hold your peace. ~ Exodus 14:13-14

Seven Small Things #36-42

36. Morningstar Farms {meatless} Chicken Patties

37. The world's easiest peanut butter cookie recipe: 1 cup peanut butter, 1 cup sugar, one egg.

38. Nan M. who knows {and cares} so much more about taxes than I do. She's going to look over my return and maybe help me re-file. But, for now, they. are. done!

39. Rainy Saturday afternoons – God obviously made them for naps!

40. Harry Potter movie marathons.

41. Easter dresses.

42. kijkibv v cv nhn hjholkkijΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ {for dogs who lay next to you on the couch and lick the keyboard. that's Sammy's contribution to the seven small things tonight!}

Seven Small Things #29-35

Seven, the number of wholeness and sacredness – a small list of things I am

thankful for today.

29. General Tso's chicken when we're too tired to cook.

30. Warm dog bodies pressed tightly to your side when you're drifting off to sleep.

31. Perspective.

32. The sound of birds singing before sunrise.

33. Lists.

34. That it's supposed to rain all day tomorrow. {i still have to do my taxes. . .}

35. Trees that look like sleeping giants in disguise.

Kingdom Work

My father was devout. He was so staunchly dedicated to sharing the Gospel that he had very little time to devote to his children.

There were sermons to prepare. Crises to solve. Needy people to counsel. Board meetings to attend.

God had called. He had answered. The calling came first. Family came second. Or third. Sometimes last.

I would sit outside his office door. I would wait until my father had a moment to spare. I knew I was supposed to be quiet - never interrupt, never disturb. He wasn't just doing ordinary work. He was doing God's work.

I tried to think of important things to say - things that would impress him or make him happy with me. "I talked to someone at school about God today Daddy! I memorized John 3:16! Does that make you happy Daddy?"

One day I went to his study door and no one was there. The bookshelves were perfectly organized. The desk was tidy with his favorite silver pen poised on top of a stack of papers he had been writing on. I slowly reached out to touch his pen. I wanted to pretend to be part of his sacred calling too.

I took the pen and a sheet of his blank paper and crouched beneath the desk, writing something I just knew would be beautiful for my Daddy. When I was done I neatly folded up the paper and planned a way to surprise him with my cleverness.

I left the pen underneath his desk.

"WHERE IS MY PEN? YOU KNOW YOU ARE NOT TO TOUCH MY THINGS! NO ONE GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO BE IN MY STUDY!"

Sickness rolled in my stomach. Apologies rolled from my mouth. The regrets were accepted but all I wanted to do was run away and hide. I was ashamed.

All my life I have tried to please my Daddy. And all my life I have failed.

I never did give him the words I wrote that day. All these years later I can't remember what they were. Probably nothing important. These words, like so many sermons, have long since faded away.

All my life I've tried to please God.

All my life I failed. Until one day words started pouring out of my fingers onto a computer screen. And one day words poured out of my mouth in prayers of honest anguish. And one day syllables of sincere praise came bubbling out of my soul.

And God listened.

And God said, "This is my beloved child in whom I am well pleased. . ."

Seven Small Things #22-28

Seven, the number of wholeness and sacredness – a small list of things I am

thankful for today.

22. The first evening walk with the Delilah after work this spring with all three of us.

23. The first Dietsch's milkshake of the year - chocolate of course!

24. The camera reappearing for the first time in awhile. . .and it was such fun!

25. The grass being cut for the first time this year.

26. The first five remarkable minutes after dinner when we just sit, listen and really hear each other.

27. The dishwasher - the first I've ever had that actually worked.

28. The primroses in our garden - the first things to bloom this year!

Seven Small Things #15-21

Seven, the number of wholeness and sacredness – a small list of things I am

thankful for today.

15. Wednesday small group that ran late - and made today's small things list run late too!

16. Just enough of everything.

17. The first strawberries of the season, with balsamic vinegar in a salad.

18. Slowing down, breathing deep and making it a prayer.

19. Morning sun.

20. How the buds on a tulip poplar tree crack open like tiny little eggs.

21. A fat orange robin digging in our flower beds for some dinner.

Seven Small Things - #8-14

Seven, the number of wholeness and sacredness – a small list of things I am

thankful for today.

8. The inordinate number of people in my life who have bright blue eyes and how special and different each one is to me. {isn't blue a recessive eye color?? there are an awful lot of them around me!}

9. Work that gives a sense of accomplishment.

10. Dinner leftovers that will compose tomorrow's lunch.

11. Clean laundry right out of the dryer.

12. That Izzy takes such great pleasure from something as simple as the plastic ring at the top of the milk jug. She can play with one for hours.

13. Garden shadows dancing on the sheer curtains in the kitchen.

14. Being summoned for jury duty. {i'm trying hard to be thankful for this one. i don't get paid for jury duty. . .shouldn't that be mandatory if they require you to go??}

Violet Honey

A "Recipe"

1. Notice that your front yard is freckled with tiny little violets.

2. Wonder what you could do with them.

3. Remember that someone you know wrote on Facebook a year ago that she turned them into violet honey.

4. Fail to find her instructions because you are too lazy to wade through an entire year's worth of wall posts.

5. Wing it.

6. Take a bowl and your girlfriend and go sit in the yard.

7. Carefully run your fingers up the stem of the violet until just the blossom pops off.

8. Fill a bowl.

9. Marvel at the description your girlfriend gives when she says, "Looks like you already cleaned out that little scrabble over there!"

10. Cover your violets with approximately twice as much honey as blossoms.

11. Warm the honey gently on the stove.

12. Let it sit overnight.

13. Warm it again and strain it.

14. Be amazed at the delicate color and the most subtle flavored honey ever.

15. Eat it on warm, homemade scones and smile!

Seven Small Things

Seven, the number of wholeness and sacredness – a small list of things I am thankful for today.

1. Dinner cooked on the grill on a warm spring evening.

2. Samson, Delilah and Oliver wrestling on the living room rug.

3. That a small grey dove, grabbed out of the air by Oliver, got away with her life intact, even if her tail feathers weren't.

4. Homemade iced coffee.

5. Good books.

6. Sharing a homemade Fresh Apple Cake with Caramel Glaze with a warehouse full of hungry friends.

7. Sleeping with the windows open.

Perspective

"Your prose and choice of words expose your true persona. Everyone has the right to their own opinion ~ but it's the form in which you express your judgement that reveals the value of your perspective."

~ Vincent Deporter

Forgetting How To Pray

I don't remember when I didn't know how to pray.

"Now I lay me down to sleep. . ."

"God is great, God is good. . ."

And the big one, the prayer that kept hell from licking at my toes and allowed me to sleep at night without fear –

"Dear Jesus, Forgive me of my sins. Take the black and ugly out of my heart and save me. I want to go to heaven and not that other place. Just in case you forgot . . A-men."

But suddenly, forty years or so later, prayer isn't quite so easy. I have questions that cloud up the air and make a foggy divide between me and Him. Like somehow God must be frightened away by my doubts and my long silences.

Tentative, I try again.

Holy One, Do you understand the groanings of this heart? This heart that wants to want You again? Are You there to rescue me even when this fool doesn't really think she needs to be rescued?

I don't need a rainbow set in the sky or a lame man to walk again. I just need You to cover me in peace and whisper in my ear, "You're still mine."

But He doesn't answer. At least not like I hoped He would.

And then I remember.

He answers like this. . .

:: a 70 degree day when it snowed just last week

:: the tiny buds on the lilac tree just outside my living room window that will soon perfume us with the scent of purple

:: a kiss and a smile from my love who says, "How did we get so lucky?"

:: the radio turned up loud with my favorite song

And I begin to remember and understand that while I asked God for a whisper, God shouted love. And I remember that I spend far too much time worrying about the right words instead of remembering how to listen with anything more than my ears.

Mumble-Jumble

Things have just been so out of sorts for the last week or so. No particular reason why. Just a mumble-jumble that isn't particularly interesting or "write worthy."

In no meaningful order –

:: Ali's hCG number is finally 1.1. We have an appointment with the fertility clinic in Toledo in two weeks. Still paying off the last bills but ready to start all over. Getting a new Findlay doctor, that's for certain.

:: Instead of Sweet Pea, we're going to call the next adventure "Morning Glory."

:: Spent Sunday night in the ER with R. He fell and couldn't get back up. He fell again on Monday morning and made a return trip to the hospital. Now he's in a nursing home. Hopefully only for 3o days. I miss my sweet, old friend.

:: As a result I now have only two jobs instead of three for the next 30 days. Why in the heck am I so tired then??

:: We cleaned up the craft room last weekend. It's so organized and tidy now! Every day I think I'm going to go up there in the evening and create. And every evening I go up there and don't know what to do. . .maybe it's all related to my lack of actual writing as well. . .

:: Last weekend I made a most adorable little peacock out of old sweaters, thread, buttons and stuffing. I haven't even taken a picture of her. In fact, I can't remember the last time I took a picture at all.

:: I'm leading a few weeks worth of study on different kinds of prayer for our small group. Last night we discussed, created and prayed breath prayers. It was the first thing I've been excited about in quite some time. It's kind of intimidating leading a group of people who are all smarter than me though. . .

I'm hoping the mumble-jumble straightens itself out here soon. If not, postings might get a little sparse. And more than just a little bit boring!

You've Been Warned

Have you seen this?

Careful. It's addictive. Ali and I have been watching for over an hour! I'm not sure I've ever seen much that's this cute!! Every time I go to close out the window I'm afraid I'm going to miss something.

Consider yourself warned. . .

Brought To You By The Letter P

a loose transcription of a text message conversation with Delilah's dog trainer

me:: so. . .oliver took delilah down in the backyard today. she rolled over on her back to signal her submission and he lifted his leg and peed on her. . . diagnosis dr. d??

jd:: well. . .1. she pissed him off for the last time. 2. he is telling her she is low dog on the totem pole.

me:: should we allow such crass behavior in our backyard? lol! do you think she got the message?

jd:: probably went over her head. . .or on it! lol! i'd like to think she's learning. . .

me:: so would i. . .but alas, i'm not too hopeful.

jd:: she's young. don't give up. just like us, some are a little slower! hang on to hope.

me:: ok. but soon i may have to adopt oliver's strategy!

this message has been cheerfully brought to you by the letter p! happy tuesday!

Lord Have Mercy! Have You Heard?

Lord have mercy! Have you heard?

Bell bottoms are back. . .

Be still my Marcia Brady wanna-be heart. I haven't been this excited about a fashion trend since practically living for three or four full years in my circa 1976 baseball t-shirt that sported a full color rainbow. {oh, if i only knew then what i know now about those damn rainbows.}

Anyhoo. . .mine was earthtones and had brown sleeves but I couldn't find an image of that one. Sigh. I loved that shirt.

They say that you're too old to wear a trend like bell bottoms if you wore them the first time around. That makes me kind of sad. But I've been know to wear white after Labor Day so I may throw caution to the wind and sew me up a pair of these.

They will either make me look awesomely cool {or whatever the terminology of the day is} or I will look like one of those middle aged ladies you see at the pool wearing a leopard print cover-up and gold sandals.

Just thinking about bell bottoms reminds me of my favorite outfit of all time. Grass green, wide wale corduroy pants {bell bottoms of course!}, a button up shirt that was beige and covered in 3-inch circles, all different colors {earthtones I think}, all unified by a bright orange knit sweater vest. {as if bright orange can unify anything!} I wore those pants OUT and I remember being so sad when I had to give that outfit up. I think it may have been the first complete ensemble I ever picked out for myself. {shocking i know. my fashion sense is still intact all these years later!}

All this fashion thought has made me a bit nostalgic. I sat here this morning searching the internet for a new 1970's inspired rainbow t-shirt. I thought it might ease the ache over the one I outgrew and didn't understand all those years ago. I might have found the perfect one. . . but, damn, they don't take special orders.

I seriously would need one with the rainbows just a skosh lower. . .

Dear God

Dear God,

Thank you for the many blessings you send my way on a daily basis, like good friends, a partner who makes me smile, a comfortable home and the patience required to put the sheets on R's bed every single day this week because he couldn't remember what day his new bed was supposed to be delivered and he wanted to be sure he was prepared.

Thanks for the good health I have experienced in recent weeks, aside from that gnawing pain in my left shoulder that I suspect has something to do with the angle of a certain computer screen. Oh, and that back thing that's been hurting for the past three years or so. But, really, I'm good.

Thank you for the beautiful spring flowers that give me hope for life renewing itself. I am struggling to see the blessing involved in this latest rainy/snowy cold snap, but I’ll get there. Eventually. Maybe.

I appreciate all the help you’re gonna have to send me when I do my taxes this weekend. You know that the IRS brings out the disagreeable in me. I know it's too much to ask for a refund but really, you could drop that kind of manna on me anytime. Just sayin'.

Please look after all the sick folks I know. Not to complain, but that list is getting’ a little long, Lord. I’m hopin’ we can shorten that up pretty soon.

And grant me patience to deal with all of these little things that are gnawing at me during this especially hectic time. Not to be greedy, but if you could just make Adobe Updater leave me alone while I'm trying to work, that would be swell.

Help me to look for the best in everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, especially You Know Who. I promise I’m tryin’, but it’s hard. I suppose I should thank that person for keeping me in close contact with you, though.

Anyway, that’s about all I have this time. Watch over my peeps, and tell Gramma that Tanna says hey!

Amen.