I've been tagged for the Five Things I Dig About Jesus meme.... And, even though I'm on vacation, my folks have upgraded to high speed internet since the last time I was home (complete with a new computer!!).
1. He spoke in parables that no one could understand, that we still wrestle with today.
2. On the flip side, he used language that was common and spoke to people where they were.
3. He challenged the world.
4. He spoke peace, and inspires us to do the same.
5. He liked to eat and drink.
You know the drill.... Cheers.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Research?
Dear Research Company,
Shockingly, you left a message last night. I liked that.
Shockingly, you called back tonight at shortly before 10:00 PM. That, I didn't like so much.
While your website indicates otherwise, I can't imagine that anyone out there would like to take your survey after finishing an evening routine after 9 pm. Certainly few of us at neary 10:00. Short of emergencies and the occasional friend or family, no one calls us this late. I sound old, I know, but it's true.
Really, a research call at nearly 10. I still can't believe it.
No, I won't answer your questions. And, no, at this point I don't want to tell you a more convenient time to call. You're lucky I was as polite as I was.
I remain,
Forever indebted to caller ID.
Shockingly, you left a message last night. I liked that.
Shockingly, you called back tonight at shortly before 10:00 PM. That, I didn't like so much.
While your website indicates otherwise, I can't imagine that anyone out there would like to take your survey after finishing an evening routine after 9 pm. Certainly few of us at neary 10:00. Short of emergencies and the occasional friend or family, no one calls us this late. I sound old, I know, but it's true.
Really, a research call at nearly 10. I still can't believe it.
No, I won't answer your questions. And, no, at this point I don't want to tell you a more convenient time to call. You're lucky I was as polite as I was.
I remain,
Forever indebted to caller ID.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Neighborly
We moved into our house in December, and as the weather has warmed and we've spent more time outside, neighbors have stopped and introduced themselves. We're on a waving basis with most of them, and a conversational first-name with others. I struggle with living as an adult in a neighborhood -- my desire to be anonymous, mixed with the question of how folks will respond to what we do, paired with really wanting to be good neighbors and part of the community. Some of our parishioners live in the area, and are friends with folks on the block, so many already knew all about us.
The woman who lives next door is maybe in her 70s, a widow with familiy nearby who are involved, and spunky and quirky. She loves our dog, appreciates the clean-up we've done to the side of our property that she sees, and will occasionally come over if she see me out.
Tonight was one of those warm, summery nights. I was away the first part of the week at camp, and now my colleague-in-everything is taking the second half of the week. After dinner (eggs for me, crackers for the boy), we started out on a walk ("a stroller 'venture"), and headed past her house along one of our regular routes. She called hello to us from the window, and then asked if she could join us on our walk, and she did, pointing out homes where she knew stories and calling out to folks who were outside. "My daughter dated their son," she'd say. Or, "my grandson stood up in their daughter's wedding."
While part of me had wanted to walk alone, chattering about to my son, her joining us was perfect.
The woman who lives next door is maybe in her 70s, a widow with familiy nearby who are involved, and spunky and quirky. She loves our dog, appreciates the clean-up we've done to the side of our property that she sees, and will occasionally come over if she see me out.
Tonight was one of those warm, summery nights. I was away the first part of the week at camp, and now my colleague-in-everything is taking the second half of the week. After dinner (eggs for me, crackers for the boy), we started out on a walk ("a stroller 'venture"), and headed past her house along one of our regular routes. She called hello to us from the window, and then asked if she could join us on our walk, and she did, pointing out homes where she knew stories and calling out to folks who were outside. "My daughter dated their son," she'd say. Or, "my grandson stood up in their daughter's wedding."
While part of me had wanted to walk alone, chattering about to my son, her joining us was perfect.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
8 Random Things About Me
I have been tagged by 1-4 Grace to do this -- so here goes
Okay, first the rules:
1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
3.At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
My amendments to the rules:
I love, love, love to be tagged. It hearkens back to some weird junior high feeling of inclusion. But when it comes right down to the return of tagging -- I can't bring myself to either choose or, well, go through the work of tagging others. So.... as with all of these -- if you want to play, I'd love to read your randomness -- just let me know in the comments. And clearly I think that blogger should incorporate an em-dash into their auto-ness.
8 Random things about me:
1. I've recently rediscovered that I really like corn-nuts. And remembered that I've been to the place where they make corn-nuts. Or at least there was a very large outlet/factory store of corn-nuts that we used as a diversion during a rain delay at a golf tournament.
2. I really love a good pedicure, but the manicure is nearly completely wasted on me. I can't read while it's happening, I ruin it within days if not moments of getting it, and I can never decide on color for the fingers.
3. I collected stickers as a kid. I had one that was a numbered limited edition that I remember thinking was really going to mean something someday.
4. I am so much more likely to do something if you don't tell me to do it.
5. I am immensely proud of my pathetic gardening attempts this season. These include simply scattering seeds over a bed of dirt and thinking they might grow. It has actually worked with, ahem, scattered results.
6. I take pride in my father's dry sense of humor and the fact that he's passed it along to me. He was a science teacher until he retired and I found him witty even in high school when I was outwardly embarassed and yet bursting with pride at the same time.
7. I can have boundless energy.
8. I never thought that I'd end up where I am today.
Okay, first the rules:
1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
3.At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
My amendments to the rules:
I love, love, love to be tagged. It hearkens back to some weird junior high feeling of inclusion. But when it comes right down to the return of tagging -- I can't bring myself to either choose or, well, go through the work of tagging others. So.... as with all of these -- if you want to play, I'd love to read your randomness -- just let me know in the comments. And clearly I think that blogger should incorporate an em-dash into their auto-ness.
8 Random things about me:
1. I've recently rediscovered that I really like corn-nuts. And remembered that I've been to the place where they make corn-nuts. Or at least there was a very large outlet/factory store of corn-nuts that we used as a diversion during a rain delay at a golf tournament.
2. I really love a good pedicure, but the manicure is nearly completely wasted on me. I can't read while it's happening, I ruin it within days if not moments of getting it, and I can never decide on color for the fingers.
3. I collected stickers as a kid. I had one that was a numbered limited edition that I remember thinking was really going to mean something someday.
4. I am so much more likely to do something if you don't tell me to do it.
5. I am immensely proud of my pathetic gardening attempts this season. These include simply scattering seeds over a bed of dirt and thinking they might grow. It has actually worked with, ahem, scattered results.
6. I take pride in my father's dry sense of humor and the fact that he's passed it along to me. He was a science teacher until he retired and I found him witty even in high school when I was outwardly embarassed and yet bursting with pride at the same time.
7. I can have boundless energy.
8. I never thought that I'd end up where I am today.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Safe Passage
He sits in a lawn chair when the weather gets warm, bright vest on, stop sign twirling at his feet. He stands and greets the kids who come near him, nodding and questioning. And then he walks slowly into the intersection, his hand out behind him until the way is safe when he beckons to the children on scooters, foot, the occasional bicycle. Sometimes a parent waits for that crossing with the family dog, waving and calling, "Have a good day," before returning home or continuing the walk.
He nodded his thanks to me one day, as I stopped farther than most and waited what he must have perceived to be patiently. Some days I might wave, an anonymous passer-by thankful for his role in the life of the community.
On cold days, much of our winter, he waits for the rush in his small blue car that has seen better days, a cup of coffee steaming the windshield, and I imagine talk radio filling the air. His smile is the same, but there's less dawdling, more hurrying, and the parents wave quickly, bundled more tightly.
School's nearly out for the summer. Late the other day, a group of children stood on the sidewalk, calling to him with pen and yearbook, waiting for the beckoning hand to leave an impression in their book.
He nodded his thanks to me one day, as I stopped farther than most and waited what he must have perceived to be patiently. Some days I might wave, an anonymous passer-by thankful for his role in the life of the community.
On cold days, much of our winter, he waits for the rush in his small blue car that has seen better days, a cup of coffee steaming the windshield, and I imagine talk radio filling the air. His smile is the same, but there's less dawdling, more hurrying, and the parents wave quickly, bundled more tightly.
School's nearly out for the summer. Late the other day, a group of children stood on the sidewalk, calling to him with pen and yearbook, waiting for the beckoning hand to leave an impression in their book.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Moment
I noticed the curve of the sidewalk and thought it seemed like a cheerful curve, a happy curve, and at the same time rebuffed myself for anthropomorphing (is that the right word? used correctly?) the sidewalk. I noticed the curve of the sidewalk as I stepped off of it to let the man walk past me, step-step shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. His jacket -- thin, dark blue, indicated his allegiance to an organization -- hung from his shoulders and swayed a bit as he step-step shuffled his way toward the building.
The grass where I stepped to make more room was soft, cushiony, and my thoughts jumped to sod and grass seed and rain gauges and errands I was running and the pending rain that was starting to fall, lightly and without conviction. The rain, like the sidewalk, not especially in need of the human attributes I was assigning, but they were working for me.
I stepped back onto the sidewalk, the man having passed, and I paused in my mind to be thrilled at sharing the building behind me with old men, immigrant families, students. My canvas bag bounced against my hip, my self-pride at having remembered it tempered only by its necessity to leave the house.
My car was warm when I threw the bag on the side seat, knocking my lunch out of its wrapper, the remains of the energy bar (my second of the day, a sad substitute for a rain check lunch) crumbling as I picked it up. The heat had softened it, warmed the cherries, made it vaguely reminiscent of pie -- if I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.
The grass where I stepped to make more room was soft, cushiony, and my thoughts jumped to sod and grass seed and rain gauges and errands I was running and the pending rain that was starting to fall, lightly and without conviction. The rain, like the sidewalk, not especially in need of the human attributes I was assigning, but they were working for me.
I stepped back onto the sidewalk, the man having passed, and I paused in my mind to be thrilled at sharing the building behind me with old men, immigrant families, students. My canvas bag bounced against my hip, my self-pride at having remembered it tempered only by its necessity to leave the house.
My car was warm when I threw the bag on the side seat, knocking my lunch out of its wrapper, the remains of the energy bar (my second of the day, a sad substitute for a rain check lunch) crumbling as I picked it up. The heat had softened it, warmed the cherries, made it vaguely reminiscent of pie -- if I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Vacation, Celebration, Desperation
I started a post a few days ago that simply read: It's been so long.... I almost forgot my password.
It didn't post because an error message appeared indicating that the operating system had unexpectedly shut-down. This never happens. It started back up, but it spooked me. And, as I had been tired already, it didn't seem worth it to start all over again -- especially for such a pithy post.
We've taken a vacation and had some fun. Our son turned two. He now thinks that they'll sing happy birthday to him every time we go to a baseball game. My parents visited. People came over. I made an amazing train cake. I've now invested enough money in supplies that he'll have a train cake every year, ad nauseum. If he gets married, it might be the groom's cake.
I've been experiencing these pangs of something -- jealousy? sadness? loss? -- at not being at the Festival of Homiletics. This is definitely one of those to-do things on my list. Maybe next year, when it's in Minnesota (or so the rumors go....).
Much of Wednesday was spent on a ladder in the sanctuary, preparing for the weekend. A few desperate moments when we thought, is this really going to work. It did. It does. People who have already seen it are stunned. I get giddy every time I see walk past.
I've missed writing, these days (weeks?) that I've not. The weather has been warm and all I want to do is play in the dirt. I've done that, some, and it's at times like that when I dream of not doing what I do.
It didn't post because an error message appeared indicating that the operating system had unexpectedly shut-down. This never happens. It started back up, but it spooked me. And, as I had been tired already, it didn't seem worth it to start all over again -- especially for such a pithy post.
We've taken a vacation and had some fun. Our son turned two. He now thinks that they'll sing happy birthday to him every time we go to a baseball game. My parents visited. People came over. I made an amazing train cake. I've now invested enough money in supplies that he'll have a train cake every year, ad nauseum. If he gets married, it might be the groom's cake.
I've been experiencing these pangs of something -- jealousy? sadness? loss? -- at not being at the Festival of Homiletics. This is definitely one of those to-do things on my list. Maybe next year, when it's in Minnesota (or so the rumors go....).
Much of Wednesday was spent on a ladder in the sanctuary, preparing for the weekend. A few desperate moments when we thought, is this really going to work. It did. It does. People who have already seen it are stunned. I get giddy every time I see walk past.
I've missed writing, these days (weeks?) that I've not. The weather has been warm and all I want to do is play in the dirt. I've done that, some, and it's at times like that when I dream of not doing what I do.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Friday Five
Once again Reverendmother has provided the following Friday Five:
There are two types of people in the world, morning people and night owls. Or Red Sox fans and Yankees fans. Or boxers and briefs. Or people who divide the world into two types of people and those who don't. Let your preferences be known here. And if you're feeling verbose, defend your choices!
1. Mac? (woo-hoo!) or PC? (boo!)
Why yes, the Friday Five author reserves the right to editorialize!
We had been a PC family for a long time, but our recent (ok, it's been almost 2 years) purchase was a Mac. We still use PCs at the office, but I love the Mac.
2. Pizza: Chicago style luscious hearty goodness, or New York floppy and flaccid?
Um.... neither. Thin crust, but crunchy.
3. Brownies/fudge containing nuts:
a) Good. I like the variation in texture.
b) An abomination unto the Lord. The nuts take up valuable chocolate space.
Thou shalt NOT put nuts in my brownies.
4. Do you hang your toilet paper so that the "tail" hangs flush with the wall, or over the top of the roll like normal people do?
Thank goodness I'm normal. At least on this one.
5. Toothpaste: Do you squeeze the tube wantonly in the middle, or squeeze from the bottom and flatten as you go just like the tube instructs?
I'll wantonly squeeze for awhile, but eventually I'll flatten and push.
Bonus:
Olives: green or black?
A friend once contended that each relationship has one person who liked olives and one who didn't. There are great exceptions to this, obviously, but I saw his wisdom. Of course he might have been telling me that we'd never be in a relationship as we sat together eating our olives. I will eat them both, but I've come to see the superiority of the green olive -- particularly stuffed with blue cheese or garlic and marinated in a martini.
There are two types of people in the world, morning people and night owls. Or Red Sox fans and Yankees fans. Or boxers and briefs. Or people who divide the world into two types of people and those who don't. Let your preferences be known here. And if you're feeling verbose, defend your choices!
1. Mac? (woo-hoo!) or PC? (boo!)
Why yes, the Friday Five author reserves the right to editorialize!
We had been a PC family for a long time, but our recent (ok, it's been almost 2 years) purchase was a Mac. We still use PCs at the office, but I love the Mac.
2. Pizza: Chicago style luscious hearty goodness, or New York floppy and flaccid?
Um.... neither. Thin crust, but crunchy.
3. Brownies/fudge containing nuts:
a) Good. I like the variation in texture.
b) An abomination unto the Lord. The nuts take up valuable chocolate space.
Thou shalt NOT put nuts in my brownies.
4. Do you hang your toilet paper so that the "tail" hangs flush with the wall, or over the top of the roll like normal people do?
Thank goodness I'm normal. At least on this one.
5. Toothpaste: Do you squeeze the tube wantonly in the middle, or squeeze from the bottom and flatten as you go just like the tube instructs?
I'll wantonly squeeze for awhile, but eventually I'll flatten and push.
Bonus:
Olives: green or black?
A friend once contended that each relationship has one person who liked olives and one who didn't. There are great exceptions to this, obviously, but I saw his wisdom. Of course he might have been telling me that we'd never be in a relationship as we sat together eating our olives. I will eat them both, but I've come to see the superiority of the green olive -- particularly stuffed with blue cheese or garlic and marinated in a martini.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Gadgets and Gizmos, Good Grief!
My new hair dryer arrived. I ordered it from friendly jungle online site because I could get free shipping and knew I wouldn't get to the store before it arrived. I did have a spare, of course, so not all was lost in the meantime.
This new one is pretty fabulous. And, it's a lot more hair dryer than I need. My child now points to it and says, "Mommy's newwwww hair dryer. Mommy dry-a hair." He then points to my hair, looks, and says, "Mommy all done dry-a hair."
If only this dryer could double as a printer for my office, as I'm about to throw that said gadget out the window. It's made me nothing but crabby-crabby-crabby all afternoon. Crabby-crabby-crabby, I tell you.
This new one is pretty fabulous. And, it's a lot more hair dryer than I need. My child now points to it and says, "Mommy's newwwww hair dryer. Mommy dry-a hair." He then points to my hair, looks, and says, "Mommy all done dry-a hair."
If only this dryer could double as a printer for my office, as I'm about to throw that said gadget out the window. It's made me nothing but crabby-crabby-crabby all afternoon. Crabby-crabby-crabby, I tell you.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Things I'm doing
* Wishing I had more time in a day
* Wanting to do all of the improvements to the yard/house/garage today. OK, I'd settle for this summer/year, but that's not going to happen, either.
* Being amazed that the Kidlet is almost two. TWO.
* Looking forward to vacation. Even though the friend we'll see questioned our destination as being vacation-worthy. It has a zoo, we won't see our families, we'll have a hotel room, and it's not home. Sounds like vacation to me.
* Already not wanting to be at any of the evening obligations that I have this week.
* Recognizing (again) some of my neurotic tendencies about clothes, my body, shopping, money, food, relationships....
* Admiring how the animals in our own zoo are getting along these days.
* Trying to get caught up after a couple of weeks of the Kidlet being in and out of daycare. Nothing major, but a missed/shared day here and there puts us all more in maintenance mode than actually feeling caught up or proactive. Someday, right?
* Coming up with a vision for our lives beyond this place.
* Struggling with that overwhelmed feeling that can be oh-so-paralyzing.
* Wanting to do all of the improvements to the yard/house/garage today. OK, I'd settle for this summer/year, but that's not going to happen, either.
* Being amazed that the Kidlet is almost two. TWO.
* Looking forward to vacation. Even though the friend we'll see questioned our destination as being vacation-worthy. It has a zoo, we won't see our families, we'll have a hotel room, and it's not home. Sounds like vacation to me.
* Already not wanting to be at any of the evening obligations that I have this week.
* Recognizing (again) some of my neurotic tendencies about clothes, my body, shopping, money, food, relationships....
* Admiring how the animals in our own zoo are getting along these days.
* Trying to get caught up after a couple of weeks of the Kidlet being in and out of daycare. Nothing major, but a missed/shared day here and there puts us all more in maintenance mode than actually feeling caught up or proactive. Someday, right?
* Coming up with a vision for our lives beyond this place.
* Struggling with that overwhelmed feeling that can be oh-so-paralyzing.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Frantic, Frazzled, Frizzied
Part of my morning routine is drying my hair. It's getting longer, as my funtastic stylist is guiding me through a growing-out stage: we're nearly all one-length and below the chin -- longer than it's been in quite some time. But I have a lot of hair -- it's thick and while it's easy to style, it certainly has a flip on one side and not the other. Fantastic Stylist and I go back and forth about directional drying and time management, and I acknowledge that short of a lot of layers, it's not going to be a quick dry. Such are the dramas of my life.
This morning, after my dear, nearly-two-how-did-that-happen boy-child awoke early-early-early (for him at least, I'll admit it was only about 6:20), and the husband took him to daycare leaving me to get ready in peace, I set about that aforementioned part of my morning routine. And then the hair dryer cut out.
And then it quit completely -- shooting sparks from the handle that connects to the cord. Sparks. SPARKS. Causing me to cuss and jump and throw the dryer into the hallway and cuss some more. Here I go to the rest of the world -- less frantic, but still slightly frazzled and frizzied, with a bathroom smelling slightly of burnt plastic.
This morning, after my dear, nearly-two-how-did-that-happen boy-child awoke early-early-early (for him at least, I'll admit it was only about 6:20), and the husband took him to daycare leaving me to get ready in peace, I set about that aforementioned part of my morning routine. And then the hair dryer cut out.
And then it quit completely -- shooting sparks from the handle that connects to the cord. Sparks. SPARKS. Causing me to cuss and jump and throw the dryer into the hallway and cuss some more. Here I go to the rest of the world -- less frantic, but still slightly frazzled and frizzied, with a bathroom smelling slightly of burnt plastic.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Overheard...
Or simply said to me over the past weeks.
While I was approaching a table holding nametags:
"Oooo -- PastorDH's wife must be coming. There's her nametag."
"That's me!"
Since we've started working together, I'm rarely referred to as PastorDH's wife. Can't say that I've missed it entirely, but that is how these women knew me, I guess.
From an adult on the morning of Good Friday during the craft portion of our children's worship:
"You look so thin without your robe on."
Absolutely nothing to say to that in response.
While I was approaching a table holding nametags:
"Oooo -- PastorDH's wife must be coming. There's her nametag."
"That's me!"
Since we've started working together, I'm rarely referred to as PastorDH's wife. Can't say that I've missed it entirely, but that is how these women knew me, I guess.
From an adult on the morning of Good Friday during the craft portion of our children's worship:
"You look so thin without your robe on."
Absolutely nothing to say to that in response.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Holy Week, What else?
Things that I'm doing this week:
* Being grateful for health and home
* Feeling oddly out-of-sorts and out of rhythm
* Experiencing my own leadership as if for the first time
* Blowing the last remnants of a cold out of my head
* Rejoicing over a shared meal and laughter with a high school friend
* Pondering the contents of my child's basket, and knowing it doesn't really matter
* Reading late at night
* Wanting to go on vacation
* Laughing with my son
* Teaching new words: alpaca, pygme goat, lamb
* Anticipating the return of snowbirds
* Holding people in prayer
* Aching to dig in the dirt
* Being grateful for health and home
* Feeling oddly out-of-sorts and out of rhythm
* Experiencing my own leadership as if for the first time
* Blowing the last remnants of a cold out of my head
* Rejoicing over a shared meal and laughter with a high school friend
* Pondering the contents of my child's basket, and knowing it doesn't really matter
* Reading late at night
* Wanting to go on vacation
* Laughing with my son
* Teaching new words: alpaca, pygme goat, lamb
* Anticipating the return of snowbirds
* Holding people in prayer
* Aching to dig in the dirt
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
The Days
The last six days or so have been a blur of worship, wedding, funeral, nursing home, hopsital visit, doctor's appointment. They've been a blur of dancing, wine party, martini, pizza and champagne, digging in the dirt, raking the compost. The days have flowed together like the fog that enveloped the car and the dreams that took over my sleep -- sometimes comforting, yet somehow dangerous. I've sat on the floor on the edge of tears or something else and said with more restraint than I knew I had, we have to do something, get out of the house, do something. The days have been walks and library trips and book sales and passing in the night, the afternoon, the morning. They have been loud sounds like an elephant, a lion, a monkey, that sometimes get confused and produce giggles and stomping feet because we have no words for the giddiness we feel and the laughter doesn't seem enough.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Mundane but oh-so-important
Yesterday I was in meetings all. day. long. Good ones, not-so good ones, somewhere in-between-ones, but all. day. long.
Today I came in early to read through the gargantuan mail pile that had accumulated in my absence, and that I didn't have time to read yesterday. I've done a lot today, including some more meetings and phone calls and lunch.
Mundane, right? Yes.
The oh-so-important part?
I've made two appointments that I've been putting off: doctor and dentist.
Today I came in early to read through the gargantuan mail pile that had accumulated in my absence, and that I didn't have time to read yesterday. I've done a lot today, including some more meetings and phone calls and lunch.
Mundane, right? Yes.
The oh-so-important part?
I've made two appointments that I've been putting off: doctor and dentist.
Monday, March 19, 2007
He's my kid
I often joke that I was merely a stainless steel vessel, an incubator if you will, that had no real genetic involvement in the making of my child. He's looked nearly identical to my husband since birth. When people say, "I think he looks like you," I look at them as if they have two heads. I like to claim his nose (because I think it's cute and upturned), and that's about it. I also lay claim to his charming personality and when it shows, his sense of humor. A girl's gotta cling to something.
Tonight at dinner -- a real, live, out-to-eat at a restaurant dinner -- to celebrate a milestone occasion in my life that I didn't spend with my family, his meal came with dessert. Apple slices with caramel. Totally violating all double-dipping rules, the kid really could have gotten one apple slice and two small cups of caramel for all the apple that he ate. "Dipping," he proudly stated, holding an apple slice firmly between his fingers. "Dip-ping"
The crowning moment? When he picked up the caramel container, having determined that dipping was getting him nowhere fast, and tried to drink it.
"Sticky," he proclaimed all the way to the bathroom, charming everyone we saw. "No more sticky," he declared all the way back to the table.
Tonight at dinner -- a real, live, out-to-eat at a restaurant dinner -- to celebrate a milestone occasion in my life that I didn't spend with my family, his meal came with dessert. Apple slices with caramel. Totally violating all double-dipping rules, the kid really could have gotten one apple slice and two small cups of caramel for all the apple that he ate. "Dipping," he proudly stated, holding an apple slice firmly between his fingers. "Dip-ping"
The crowning moment? When he picked up the caramel container, having determined that dipping was getting him nowhere fast, and tried to drink it.
"Sticky," he proclaimed all the way to the bathroom, charming everyone we saw. "No more sticky," he declared all the way back to the table.
Friday, March 16, 2007
To Do: Friday Five
This week's Friday Five is brought to us by reverendmother who says:
Well friends, this is one of those weeks when I simply must work today, which is normally my day off. I know, I know. We may tut-tut all we want, but the fact is, some weeks are like that. So, this week's F5 is simple.
Name five things you plan to do today.
Bonus: If today is about "have-to" for you as well, share up to five things you'd like to be doing today.
To Do:
1. Mail packages. I'm heading to the PO this morning with packages in hand. Within a two week span in March there are seven birthdays between my family and my husband's. Seven. And somehow they always creep up on us, even though mine is one of them. It's crazy. It doesn't help that I'm also mailing a very belated birthday gift to another family member -- it would be crushing for his brothers to receive their gifts and not him.
2. Have lunch/brunch with a lovely group of women who keep me sane in all I do. And, while I have to do this, it certainly is a want-to-do whenever it happens.
3. Pack. I'm heading away for the weekend, and it would help if I brought some things (like clean clothes) along. Which also means that I'll be doing some driving, and I'm quite excited about that. Most of my car time is short jaunts from home to work to daycare to the store with the occasional foray into The City.
4. Shower. Need I say more?
5. Write a newsletter article. At least I have an idea, which is more than I've got some months.
Other things that I'd like to be doing/rather be doing?
1. Reading. I'm in the middle of Cross-X by Joe Miller, and while I skimmed nearly a whole chapter of well-written history last night just to get back to the debate story, it's a wonderful read that's making me think. I took it to lunch yesterday, and kept telling myself, "Just one more chapter, and then you can go do your pastoral care visit."
2. Drinking lots of coffee. This is really an everyday want, though. But today I'd love to cozy up with the above book, and a really good cup of coffee. And maybe some delicious breakfast delight -- though the Irish Soda Bread that a parishioner gifted me with yesterday made a mighty fine breakfast.
3. Playing with the kidlet. I could do neither of the two things mentioned above, but as I face a couple of days without him, I can't help but miss him already.
How about you? What's on your list?
Well friends, this is one of those weeks when I simply must work today, which is normally my day off. I know, I know. We may tut-tut all we want, but the fact is, some weeks are like that. So, this week's F5 is simple.
Name five things you plan to do today.
Bonus: If today is about "have-to" for you as well, share up to five things you'd like to be doing today.
To Do:
1. Mail packages. I'm heading to the PO this morning with packages in hand. Within a two week span in March there are seven birthdays between my family and my husband's. Seven. And somehow they always creep up on us, even though mine is one of them. It's crazy. It doesn't help that I'm also mailing a very belated birthday gift to another family member -- it would be crushing for his brothers to receive their gifts and not him.
2. Have lunch/brunch with a lovely group of women who keep me sane in all I do. And, while I have to do this, it certainly is a want-to-do whenever it happens.
3. Pack. I'm heading away for the weekend, and it would help if I brought some things (like clean clothes) along. Which also means that I'll be doing some driving, and I'm quite excited about that. Most of my car time is short jaunts from home to work to daycare to the store with the occasional foray into The City.
4. Shower. Need I say more?
5. Write a newsletter article. At least I have an idea, which is more than I've got some months.
Other things that I'd like to be doing/rather be doing?
1. Reading. I'm in the middle of Cross-X by Joe Miller, and while I skimmed nearly a whole chapter of well-written history last night just to get back to the debate story, it's a wonderful read that's making me think. I took it to lunch yesterday, and kept telling myself, "Just one more chapter, and then you can go do your pastoral care visit."
2. Drinking lots of coffee. This is really an everyday want, though. But today I'd love to cozy up with the above book, and a really good cup of coffee. And maybe some delicious breakfast delight -- though the Irish Soda Bread that a parishioner gifted me with yesterday made a mighty fine breakfast.
3. Playing with the kidlet. I could do neither of the two things mentioned above, but as I face a couple of days without him, I can't help but miss him already.
How about you? What's on your list?
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Knowing and Doing
I think there comes a moment in most of our lives when we know something, but are loathe to do anything about it. Small things like, "I know I need to take out the garbage.... but it can wait until tomorrow." Or change the toilet paper roll, as the new roll sits next to the holder. Or return a phone call. Maybe you don't have these reluctances as I do. If not, please tell me how you do it! Perhaps we're just wired differently.
But there are bigger things, too -- taxes, resolving anger issues, communicating important dates. And, while these things have sometimes greater consequences than a toilet paper roll (or not), am I (trying not to gather all the world into my issues) more loathe to do them?
Knowing and doing are two different things. I know, "Thank you, Pastor Obvious." Sometimes, for the sake of my own head, it needs to be stated simply and concretely. I'll move on from there.
But there are bigger things, too -- taxes, resolving anger issues, communicating important dates. And, while these things have sometimes greater consequences than a toilet paper roll (or not), am I (trying not to gather all the world into my issues) more loathe to do them?
Knowing and doing are two different things. I know, "Thank you, Pastor Obvious." Sometimes, for the sake of my own head, it needs to be stated simply and concretely. I'll move on from there.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
And the winner is...
Thanks to all who left comments on #200 yesterday!
The randomly selected blogger (honestly, I wrote down all your names, and picked one out of a hat!) is....
1-4 Grace who blogs at FrogBlog!
Drop me an email (in my profile), so I can send you a little something in the mail!
The randomly selected blogger (honestly, I wrote down all your names, and picked one out of a hat!) is....
1-4 Grace who blogs at FrogBlog!
Drop me an email (in my profile), so I can send you a little something in the mail!
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