Serendipity

Snowy evening ... to come

2011-01-31T22:49:00.004-06:00

In all the excitement preparing for the mother of all blizzards (the worst in this area in 99 years, according to the National Weather Service), I almost forgot to post a birthday wish for my mother.

I thought it appropriate tonight then, considering the weather, this post be my mother's favorite poem. (We share an affinity for Robert Frost.) Happy birthday, Mom. With love, always ...

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Happy birthday, Daddy

2011-01-20T20:20:00.006-06:00

Today is my father's birthday, and I can't help but think about all the things he's taught me over the years and all that he continues to do for me now.

I remember the Camp Fire Father-Daughter box suppers when I was a kid. Mom would pack our dinner in a box we had decorated with red crepe paper and white heart-shaped paper doilies and Valentines. Usually, dinner was fried chicken (something that didn't have to be eaten hot). I bet if I went to my parents' basement, that box (it was from the meat grinder) is on the shelf still decorated. One of our traditions at the box supper was to sing "Let Me Call You Sweetheart," and to this day I get misty-eyed when I hum the tune or replay the lyrics in my head.

Daddy taught me how to drive ... God love him. He had the patience of a saint. Thankfully, my car (a 1974 Mercury Montego - the V8-powered "Brown Bomb") was an automatic. I couldn't get the hang of shifting a standard to save my life ... until ... that summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school when I was away at a gifted camp at MU. I called home and found out he had sold my car because he could get a good price for it. I was left to drive his truck (a standard) or nothing at all. I learned how to shift in about five minutes. Mind over matter, I guess.

Besides carrying mail for 35 years, my dad was a carpenter on the side, repairing, refinishing and building furniture. I especially love my solid cherry desk (except when I have to move it)! And, most of the furniture in my house has been touched by him in some way - he made it, refinished it, repaired it or helped move it.

He and my grandfather built the house that I consider to be the one where I "grew up," even though it was the mid-70s when we moved there. I remember tying my wagon to the back of my tricycle and peddling through the studs picking up the scrap lumber. I'm sure I was the epitome of helpfulness.

Over the years, he's taught me a thing or two about power tools. And now, I'm handy enough with a power drill to accomplish most minor household and craft projects. I can hang a picture on the wall, change the furnace filter and mow and trim the grass. But, I still call on Daddy to lend a hand with the big things - most recently, Wonder Child's Pinewood Derby car.

And, I should explain - Yes, I'm 40-something and still call my father "Daddy." He will always be Daddy, and it isn't because I'm the youngest and only girl. "Dad" was my grandfather (That's what my brothers and I called our grandfather. My oldest brother picked up "Dad" for our grandfather from hearing my parents call him that, and it stuck through all three of us kids.)

Daddy cooked breakfast for us most mornings because Mom worked the night shift part-time, and he was up early for work. He still makes great biscuits from scratch.

He enjoys a cup of coffee every evening about 8 o'clock. He taught me early on the best way to eat an apple was to slice it in half, core it and fill the void from the core with peanut butter. I was an adult before I broke that eating pattern ... 'cause, basically, everything's better with peanut butter! And, his favorite pie is pineapple, and that's how we celebrate his birthday. No cake for him - it's pie!

Daddy taught me at a very young age the value of money, how to live modestly and the power of saving. He frequently asked me in my 20s if I had checked the oil in my car (to which I usually rolled my eyes). And, he taught me most everything I know about gardening. And, yes, I picked more than my fair share of rocks out of our garden at home as a kid. I used to swear he put back all the rocks at the end of the summer so I could pick them out the next spring.

He is as honest as the day is long. When we were kids, he would turn around and drive back to a store if the clerk gave the wrong amount of change. Not all that long ago, he went back to the counter of a restaurant to pay the difference because the server hadn't charged us enough for our meal. Most people would think it was their lucky day and go on. But, not my father ... and not me - I know better because that's how I was taught.

There are so many things I admire about my father - too numerous to mention here. But, just as I wrote in his birthday card, I'm so blessed to have him with me still today. He and my mom do so much for Wonder Child and me.

So, here's a deeply heartfelt, "Love you, Daddy. Happy 75th Birthday!"

What are they teaching these days?!

2011-01-14T20:53:00.004-06:00

After school, I use questions and requests to learn more about Wonder Child's day. Today was no exception. On the drive from school back to my office, the conversation went something like this:

"Tell me something you studied today," I prompted

"Math. Reading," he listed.

"What did you do in reading?"

"We studied idiots."

I paused for a moment. "Idiots?" "In a Catholic school?" I thought to myself.

"Yes, idiots," he said. "You know, like 'raining cats and dogs.' Mine was 'hot under the collar.'"

The topic of the lesson dawned on me: "Oh, idioms, sweetie, not idiots."

"Oh, ok."

So glad we got that terminology straightened out. I wonder how many other kids are under the same mistaken impression? There might be some interesting conversations in other homes tonight.

It got me to thinking ... What are some other idioms of note?

(Wonder Child's dad suggested he ask me what a "toad choker" was.)

One of my personal favorites - "I'll fix his wagon!"

The Final List ... in brief

2011-01-03T20:26:00.004-06:00

So, here it is - the Resolution List. I've categorized it as "Health, Wealth and Self" (in no particular order of importance). I'm painting with broad strokes here, sparing you the boring details.

Health
I have yet to meet anyone who has verbalized resolutions that hasn't included the typical "eat right/exercise" mantra, and I'm no different. But, I also have the goal of dropping 15 pounds by Memorial Day - completely do-able! And, as a diabetic, I need to be more diligent in checking my blood sugars and blood pressure. Check. Check.

Wealth
No, I'm not setting a goal to earn my first million in 2011. But, I plan to take better care of the money I do make. A household budget (including a savings goal for vacation with Wonder Child), a balanced and reconciled checking account and keeping up with tracking items for tax purposes throughout the year rather than sorting the pile in December and January are all on the agenda.

Self
This is sometimes the hardest area, especially for busy moms. But, if there's something I've learned over the years, it's that I have to fill myself up so I can pour myself out again - for Wonder Child, at work, with friends, etc. So, I'll be attending a weekly yoga class, starting this week! It's set - on the schedule in ink!

I also will be getting back to my reading list. I exceeded my goal of a book a month in 2009. I'm not sure what happened in 2010, (OK, that's not entirely true) but I will read a book a month in 2011. And, you can follow along with my reviews right here on Serendipity!

It's also time to take back control of the "piles" that have taken over my home. Uncluttered space = an uncluttered mind. I plan to write more frequently, here on Serendipity and also on my alter ego blog, PRIntrepid, than I did in 2010.

And, I will have my APR by the end of the summer. (Please, God, let this be the one thing I accomplish this year!)

So, there you have it! My list for 2011! We'll check back occasionally to see how I'm doing.

Reflections: The Finale

2011-01-01T20:15:00.009-06:00

I realize this series is becoming one of those year-in-review letters enclosed in Christmas cards. I was lucky to send out the few cards I did this year with my signature scribbled in it. Most everyone, but not all, received their cards by Christmas Eve. What can I say - it's been one of those years.

Now, where was I? Ah, yes ... July ...

July, unfortunately, started much like June. A giraffe calf born in late June failed to thrive and died a few days later, despite the heroic efforts of our animal care staff. So, I shifted into crisis mode again.

But, the month ended better than it began with an extended weekend in St. Louis for Wonder Child and me. I treated him to a St. Louis Cardinals baseball game ... which turned into an adventure itself.

Torrential rains before and at game time delayed the start for more than two hours. But, Wonder Child was an amazing trouper, waiting patiently, soaking up all the ambiance of the new Busch Stadium (pun entirely intended). I will say we were prepared with a cooler of food and drinks, ponchos and a towel ... I cannot say the same for those fans around us.

July was all about baseball. The Sharks continued their season and traveled to Hickory County for a tournament. Four games in 105-degree heat is a lot to ask of seven-year-olds ... and their parents.

Sometime this month we squeezed in a trip to White Water. I finally gave in and let Wonder Child go down Kalani Towers - the slide that is a near vertical drop at the top. Do I get "cool mom" points for going down, too? Exhilarating, yes - in a scare-you-to-death, hold-your-breath-and-pray sort of way.

August began much like June and July with yet another animal death. This time, it was our beloved "Ol' C.C.," the zoo's oldest elephant. She was in her early 60s and had been at our zoo since 1954. I sobbed my way through writing the news release because losing her was like losing a dear friend. And, the first TV interview I did standing at the elephant exhibit was quite possibly the most difficult interview I have done in 16 years of public relations practice. I'm tearing up now thinking about it. So, I need to move on ...

Of course, August also means back-to-school time, and Wonder Child headed off to second grade where he has continued to foster a love of reading, spelling and math. I'm so blessed that school has never been a struggle for us.

September means yet another trip out of town for me for zoo meetings. This time, I headed to Houston ... in September ... Who's idea was this? It was 60 degrees when I boarded the plane in Springfield. It was 100 degrees when I got to my hotel. The one saving grace was I had a wonderful time with my zoo and aquarium friends (long-time and new). And, the zoo is phenomenal!

Two days after I returned from Houston, I hit the road for the two-day Bike MS ride. My goal was to ride the century loop (100 miles) on Day 1 and 75-ish miles on Day 2. As was the case throughout the summer, though, the heat and humidity had other ideas. Instead of upping my personal best, I "sagged in" the last 25 or so miles each day. For the weekend, I rode about 105 miles.

Now before you jump all over me about being disappointed with only riding 105 miles, I know, ok! That's still a great accomplishment, and I raised an amazing $1,700. Thank you to everyone who supported my ride through donations and prayers. And, I love my team - the Hell's Angles (our team is based with Jack Ball & Associates Architects). This year, our jerseys were pink and white in support of our breast-cancer survivor/teammate Debbie (who is WAY more amazing that I'll ever be). You gotta love the "Save the Ta-Tas" socks several of us wore!

By the way, if you cycle or run or just love wearing cool socks, check out The Sock Guy! (And, by the way, too, you should have a Road ID. That's mine at the top of the picture.)

September also launched us into a new experience - Mighty Mites football. On paper, the schedule doesn't look too bad. Three nights a week for approximately 90 minutes each night. But, the reality was dinner, bath time and bedtime were pushed very late. And, I was very happy when it was over in late October. Wonder Child had a great time playing organized football; the jury is still out for me. (I'll resist the temptation here to go into my laundry list of reasons.)

October went the way most October's go for me - crazy busy balancing Halloween SPOOKTACULAR, work in general, teaching at Missouri State and trying (sometimes feebly) to maintain some normalcy at home. Enough said ... moving on.

November brings birthday celebrations for both Wonder Child and me ... mostly for him - as it should be. I acquiesced and agreed to a party with a limited guest list at the big, noisy, pizza and game place. Nothing went right in the planning:

Snide bakery workers when I tried to order the cake a week in advance (nowhere does it say you need to order two weeks in advance)
The party store clerk telling me I needed to charge the $1.07 to my credit card when I called to change the colors of the balloons (I asked for a supervisor
The manager of the big, noisy pizza and game place lost our party reservation (luckily I discovered this the day before the party when I called to see if I could add a few more to our group ... and luckily they could still accommodate our party).

But, as usually happens, everything went off on the day of the party without a hitch, and Wonder Child had the party of his dreams. Amazingly, too, the birthday cake (not decorated by "Snidely Icing") far exceeded my expectations.

I hosted our family Thanksgiving dinner on Friday after Thanksgiving. I had two purposes - first, to lighten the burden for my parents to give back to them for all they do for me, and second, to give me the incentive to clean up part of my house that was reaching near disaster proportions. I succeeded on both fronts.

In December, we got an early start on the Christmas festivities by hosting our Cub Scout den's Christmas party. Ten children and 10 adults - and I can say there was little collateral damage to the basement play area, no blood was shed, and, all in all, a good time was had by all.

But, I wouldn't get through the end of the year without yet another sad event at work. Our beloved "Stretch" the giraffe was euthanized a little more than a week before Christmas. He was quite the superstar among our guests because of his voracious appetite for the crackers we sell for feeding. And, again, he had been at the zoo for more than 20 years. Many of our zookeepers had worked with him throughout their careers. A sad end to an equally sad year.

Wonder Child and I had a great holiday season with family celebrations, sightseeing other peoples' light displays, the school Christmas program and party, Children's Mass and two trips to Silver Dollar City to see the lights. (And, yes, I even rode backwards on Thunderation. More "cool mom" points, please.)

We crammed a lot into 2010. I can already tell you I hope that 2011 doesn't carry the same frantic pace. Hey, a girl has to have hope, right?

And, so tomorrow, I will unveil my 2011 resolutions. Stay tuned!

Reflections Continued

2010-12-31T20:25:00.009-06:00

I haven't quite finished my list of resolutions for 2011. So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to reflect on the highs and lows of 2010. In the end, you may or may not understand why I'm happy to see the end of this year and the beginning of the next.

I don't want to sound ungrateful. I've received some wonderful blessings in the past 364 days. However, I went through my fair share of dark times and seemed to battle plenty of the "blues." Of course, it's a lot more fun to write mostly about the good stuff, but I'll sprinkle in a dose of the not-so-fun parts of the year.

January, of course, ushered in a new year and the promise of a fresh start. However, I didn't post my resolutions to Serendipity. I chose, instead, to keep them to myself. I don't think this was a good idea. I don't really remember what I had resolved to do or not to do. But, I suspect I wasn't overly successful.

Anyway, January brought our first experience with the Cub Scouts' Pinewood Derby. Wonder Child's car was shaped to look like a pencil (his idea). It wasn't the fastest on the track, but it wasn't the slowest either.

February was my first business trip of the year, a whirl-wind trip to Wheeling, W.V., to teach a session at "zoo school," a series of professional development opportunities for people who work at zoos and aquariums.

The drama of this trip was the wide-spread power outage at the lodge about 30 minutes after my arrival. Unable to procure dinner at the lodge's restaurant, I resorted to my travel snacks. Dinner that night was a cup of water, Pop-Tarts and a package of Reese's peanut butter cups.

March brought another trip east - this time to Virginia Beach for the mid-year meetings of the Association of Zoos and Aquariums. The host facilities were fantastic - the Virginia Aquarium and Marine Science Center and the Virginia Zoo in Norfolk. I highly recommend both if you're ever in the neighborhood.

The highlight of March came near the end of the month when we welcomed Amani into our home. I found this pretty little girl on Craig's List, and we adopted her from the family who adopted her from a shelter a month earlier. Unfortunately, they didn't anticipate her sending the wife's allergies into orbit. She's now about two years old, and we couldn't imagine our house without her.

Baseball games started in April for Wonder Child - Go SHARKS! We won the spring league, which resulted in the team being bumped up to a higher bracket and tougher teams for the rest of the summer. I still believe this was a mixed blessing for our boys because the make-up of the team shifted throughout the summer. They weren't the same team for the late-summer league that they were for the spring. But, oh well ...

April and May are extremely busy for me at work. These two months are our highest in attendance, and this year seemed no exception.

Wonder Child "bridged over" from Tiger Cubs to the Wolf rank on Mother's Day weekend. I'm so very proud of my little Cub Scout, and we are blessed with great families and a super leader in our den!

We finished up May with a trip to Dallas to see Aunt Margaret, my mother's older sister. Margaret has this amazing motherly presence, and Wonder Child has developed a very special relationship with her. I suggested the trip after failing to get a photograph of my son with my mother and Aunt Margaret during the fall of 2009 when Margaret was visiting. Silly, I know, to drive to Dallas mostly because you have an overwhelming need for one simple photo. But, for me, it's priceless. (But, in keeping with my personal policy of not posting WC's photo, I won't be sharing it.)

Oh, yeah, and there was that other little thing in May. I visited Dr. Shachar Tauber for LASIK laser vision correction. WOW! Talk about a new lease on life without glasses! It's amazing!

June didn't start off well. Early in the month, we had the first of several high-profile animal deaths at the zoo. As the public relations director, I had a variety of tasks - from helping document the situation with photographs for our internal purposes as well as letting the public know what happened. It was my summer intern's first on the job, too. Fortunately, she came back the next day (and has been indispensable to me ever since!). Needless to say, this was a file that was open for some time on my desk.

But, June wasn't all bad. Wonder Child and I headed to Scout Camp near Diamond, Mo., on Father's Day. And, yes, this "super mom" hauled her gear and pitched her tent with minimal help from the dads present. We had a blast, despite the unseasonably hot temperatures (heat indices of 105 are unusual in June, even in southwest Missouri). Knowing the weather forecast, I bought a battery-powered fan for the tent (similar to this). It might quite possibly be the best $20 I've ever spent.

And, since I had fully healed after LASIK and could go swimming at camp, for the first time in my life, I experienced seeing while I swam and played in the water for the first time in my LIFE! Thanks again, Dr. Tauber!

The last Saturday of June was Tour de Cure, the cycling event for the American Diabetes Association. My fundraising went very well this year. Thank you to everyone who supported me. I had a great team - we're the "Wild Things." I was disappointed, though, that I didn't finish the 64-mile ride. Yes, I probably bit off more than I could chew with that distance. But, there was a bad combination of extreme hills and heat/humidity that did me in. I "sagged in" after 27 miles.

Before this gets too long and drawn out, I'll pause for now and pick up the second half of the year tomorrow ...

Reflections

2010-12-30T19:57:00.006-06:00

As I was driving home this afternoon, it dawned on me - the perfect word to describe 2010.

Unraveled.

It's not particularly fancy. Actually, it's rather utilitarian.

Nevertheless, I think it suits the year I've had. If you've ever crocheted or knitted, you know the aggravation or dismay when you discover an error in your stitch pattern that requires unraveling hours of work to fix it.

Or, if you own a sweater ... well, you know.

Anyway, as I reflect on 2010, my world frequently unraveled. It seems I couldn't get caught up on much of anything. (Forget the idea of getting ahead; that's just crazy talk at this point.)

Tracking the household budget. Keeping my house clean and somewhat organized. Reading for pleasure. Finding the balance with home and work and teaching. Just being me.

I fell off numerous proverbial "wagons," too. Nutrition. Fitness. Blogging. And, plenty of other essential elements in my life.

So, now, I contemplate: How do I redirect my focus (notice I didn't say "change") to make 2011 better?

Well, that answer is yet to be revealed. But, as has become tradition, I will unveil my resolutions in the coming days.

And, it's your job to help hold me accountable.

In the meantime, what's one of your resolutions?

The voice from the backseat

2010-10-26T20:58:00.003-05:00

These past few weeks have been rather hectic. Wonder Child has ventured into the world of Mighty Mite football. I'll spare you the ups and downs, ins and outs of football for first and second graders ... at least for now. Suffice it to say, however, that having football three evenings a week for seven weeks tested our limits, and it created a few challenges for completing homework.

It never ceases to amaze me how Wonder Child's mind works. On a recent drive to school, I declined his request to play a game on my iPhone, suggesting instead that he use the time to study for his spelling test (which was the following day). This was the ensuing conversation:

WC: "Mom, you know that verse in the Bible, 'Ask and you shall receive'?"

Me: "Yes ..."

WC: (thoughtful pause) "That's not really happ'nin' for me right now."

Me: (thoughtful pause) "No, I think that verse applies more to God than to Mom."

WC: (longer thoughtful pause) "Oh ... I didn't realize that."

I admire his attempt and am more than a little pleased by his application of Biblical lessons to everyday life.

I would like to think, too, that if God were in the driver's seat, he'd agree that studying for a spelling test superseded the "ask."

Waving the white flag

2010-10-07T21:25:00.006-05:00

Consider this my white flag. Or, at the very least, the whistle calling for a time out.

I've been keeping a rather hectic pace for several months now, hoping that as one project or issue or activity comes to a close, I'd catch my breath and slow down a bit.

Instead, it's been a steady stream of nothing but "non-stop," and I feel as though I'm barely keeping up.

As a mother and daughter. As an employee and supervisor. As a teacher and a friend.

Once in awhile, when I have a quiet moment or two, I slip away to somewhere warm and sandy, on a 60-second mental vacation. Oh, how I'd love that to become reality.

But, the harsh reality is, it's not gonna happen ... at least not any time soon. (Insert heavy sigh here.)

Fortunately, a few things will be wrapping up (no pun intended) just in time for the holiday season (which isn't all that far away if you haven't looked at a calendar lately). Because the God's honest truth is I'd like to relax for the holidays.

But, for now, my life moving ahead, fast-paced and sometimes chaotic. But, thankfully, there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Eats, shoots and leaves?

2010-09-02T22:03:00.007-05:00

That's the title of Lynne Truss' book - one of my favorites - about punctuation. My passion for valuing proper language usage received an unexpected boost today in the form of a post on Ragan.com's daily public relations e-mail.

Today's gem was "Comma chameleon: How it changes the color of your meaning." (Here's the link and a footnote *) Rob Reinalda outlines some of the more common comma usage stumbles. The post is a keeper.

We all need refreshers. I, a self-proclaimed "word nerd," don't remember everything from high school English about the parts of speech and punctuation. I do, however, know how to use a reference book to look up what I don't remember (which is a far cry from the lack of care I often see in a lot of writing).

At a time when texting has all but slaughtered the art of the written word, it's nice to see someone else cares enough to write well and to help others write better.

* Never mind the momentary cardiac flutter from the title's play on words, which took me back to my younger years and an affection for the music of Culture Club. You can take the girl out of the 1980s, but you can't take the 80s out of the girl!

The blogger

2010-09-01T22:23:00.005-05:00

LOVE today's Non Sequitur:

My.Computer.Is.Upstairs. ThankYouVeryMuch!

Absence and the fond heart

2010-08-10T20:30:00.003-05:00

Serendipity, it seems, has taken a three-month summer hiatus. Not that I've forgotten about this space. No, on the contrary, I have several ideas for posts.

But, something happened this summer that transcended writer's block. I suffered from something more like "heart block" - not of the cardiac type, but, rather, of the emotional type.

Could I have written a post every now and again? Sure. I've read a few books I'd like to pass along, got the better of a particularly onerous orange crayon and, yes, saw a few sign errors that are too funny (or pathetic) not to share.

I write every day at work. That's how I know this wasn't the traditional writer's block. Without the emotional component, however, writing became methodical, pedagogical and technically sufficient. Not particularly enjoyable. I gave it enough effort to get by.

And, that's not what Serendipity is about. For me, Serendipity is a state of the heart ... recognizing and appreciating the beauty and simplicity of everyday occurrences. Somewhere inside, my emotional switch clicked off for the summer.

I think I know why, and I hope I've moved past the hurdles. I know I've rekindled the fondness in my heart for Serendipity and the passion for life it represents.

So, stay tuned - there's much more to come!

How "Un"-fortunate

2010-05-05T20:47:00.010-05:00

I grabbed a quick drive-thru dinner tonight. Springfield-style cashew chicken. YUM! Definitely not on the diet. (And, you can read about it here in the New York Times!)

In the bottom of the bag was the obligatory fortune cookie. My fortune readThinking there might be something to the fortune and not wanting to look at gift horse in the mouth, I flipped it over for the lottery numbers.Not one number is a 9, has a 9, is a multiple of 9, is evenly divisible by 9 or has digits that add up to 9.

Confucius say, " Pay no attention to the idiocy of fortune cookies."

You can say that again!

2010-04-07T21:13:00.002-05:00

As a public relations professional, I subscribe to several daily industry updates and e-newsletters, one of which is Ragan.com's "PR Daily." "PR Daily" includes links to posts on issues related specifically to the profession. Often, one of the links is something related more generally to writing, grammar or language.

Being the word nerd that I am, I inevitably click on those links.

Earlier this week, one link lead to "Have You Saved Word Today?," a post by David Murray. Unfortunately, I cannot find an open-access version of the post to share with you. Apparently, it is available to subscribers only.

Bear with me while I explain the premise.

Murray begins: "All it takes for good words to pass from the language is for enough good writers to stand around and do nothing." He continues to describe the "old fashioned" phrases of earlier times - those that hearken back to the "good ol' days."

He quotes an acquaintance in his mid-50s who is particularly adept at weaving phrases like "make hay while the sun shines" into daily conversation. But this gentleman can not only use the phrase but also explain the meaning behind it.

Murray contends that language is alive, and trying to create change or maintain stability in language is a "foolish endeavor." However, he says, writers, because of their craft, have great influence on language. These words and phrases are a part of Americana that will be lost with lack of use.

Ahh ... I suspect I have found a kindred spirit in Murray.

Growing up in a small town infused my vocabulary with great words and phrases. Some of my favorites include

kittywampus
toad-choker (a heavy rain, alternately known as toad-strangler)
"If it'd been a snake, it'd 've bit me!" (when something is right in front of you)

I often wished I had a dollar for every time I heard that last one when I worked at Walmart during my high school and college days. (Incidentally, I came across this page of "Texas Slang" searching for a posted definition of "toad-choker." Amusing reading, even if you aren't from Texas.)

So, my questions to you are

What is your favorite old-fashioned word or phrase? And, have you used it lately?

Cat-capades

2010-03-30T21:09:00.004-05:00

Wonder Child and I ventured into the pet world tonight after locating a lovely cat needing a new home on Craigslist. The paperwork that came with her from the original shelter adoption to her previous owners indicated she was a "Scottish Fold," but I don't see the resemblance with the breed pictures.

She was sweet when we met her, although a little aloof. (Aren't most cats?) She's explored a good part of the house, but her favorite spot seems to be under the dining room table (hence the closed eyes in the picture - I had to use the flash ... not good for open cat eyes). I think I understand her choice - it's out of the way, hidden behind a few stacks of miscellany ... safe and secure.

As we were driving home from her previous owner's, Wonder Child and I discussed names for the cat. He wasn't fond of "Gigi," the name given her by the previous owner's children. Wonder Child was leaning toward "Gracie," although that is our neighbor's dog's name (and the name of my parents' Garmin GPS). I liked "Bailey." We were at a temporary impasse ... that is until Wonder Child said, "She looks peaceful."

A-ha! I suggested the Swahili word for peace, and he agreed it fit!

So, we are pleased to introduce to you our newest family member ... "Amani."

A helping hand

2010-03-23T21:01:00.003-05:00

Craig forwarded this e-mail today. A quick Google search told me it is a popular "pass-along," and the origin is hard to pinpoint. Maybe you've seen it before, too.

Nevertheless, it's a wonderful way to frame your daily prayers. I think I'll share it with Wonder Child.

Five Finger Prayer

Your thumb is nearest you. So begin your prayers by praying for those closest to you. They are the easiest to remember. To pray for our loved ones is, as C. S. Lewis once said, a “sweet duty.”

The next finger is the pointing finger. Pray for those who teach, instruct and heal. This includes teachers, doctors and ministers. They need support and wisdom in pointing others in the right direction.

The next finger is the tallest finger. It reminds us of our leaders. Pray for the president, leaders in business and industry, and administrators. These people shape our nation and guide public opinion.

The fourth finger is our ring finger. Surprising to many is the fact that this is our weakest finger, as any piano teacher will testify. It should remind us to pray for those who are weak, in trouble or in pain.

And, lastly comes our little finger – the smallest finger of all, which is where we should place ourselves in relation to God and others. As the Bible says, “The least shall be the greatest among you.” Your pinkie should remind you to pray for yourself. By the time you have prayed for the other four groups, your own needs will be put into proper perspective, and you will pray for yourself more effectively.

Livin' o' the Green

2010-03-17T20:46:00.004-05:00

I've discovered a solution to a problem that's bugged me for awhile. I thought the "green" theme of St. Patrick's Day might be the perfect time to share it.

At Wonder Child's school, the Home and School organization (think PTA) promotes the Scrip gift card program as a fundraiser. Wonderful idea!

I shop for groceries, clothes, gifts, home improvement supplies, books and more. Why not raise money for the school by ordering the store' shopping cards instead of paying by debit or credit card. In return, Home and School receives a rebate from the program. And, it can simplify budgeting.

It's easy, and the best part is only cookie dough and wrapping paper involved is what you buy when you actually need it.

But, here's the drawback. Very few shopping cards (and, sadly, none that I use regularly) are set up for "reloading" through the Scrip program. So, the conundrum is what to do with the "empty" shopping cards. The stores won't take them back. And, throwing away the plastic seems environmentally harmful ... even in its very small way.

Determined to find a solution, I embarked on a research quest. First, I contacted our municipal recycling hotline to find out if they were aware of any local companies recycling shopping cards.

No.

I called several local recycling companies that accept plastic. "Do you accept the plastic shopping cards for recycling?"

No.

Actually, "Huh?" was the typical response.

I headed to the Internet.

And, voilà! Earthworks Systems!

I sent the company an e-mail asking if they accepted shopping cards for recycling from consumers. A little more than a week later, here's the response I received:

Thanks for your interest in recycling with Earthworks. We will accept plastic gift cards for recycling but would appreciate that you pass the word along to your favorite stores and hotels to contact us to learn how to recycle their cards and that they can purchase cards made from Earthworks 100% recycled plastic.

You can mail plastic cards to:
Earthworks c/o Halprin Ind.
25840 Miles Rd.
Bedford, Oh 44146

Please just send plastic cards, no rubber bands, paper clips or paper.

Please put a label or hand write the name of your organization on the package so we can track it.

Thanks for contacting us!

Regards,
Rodd S. Gilbert
Earthworks System, LLC

Here are some thought-provoking facts from Earthworks System's Web site:

More than 75 million pounds of PVC material from plastic cards enters our waste stream each year.
There are 10 billion new cards placed in circulation every year.

I can easily collect the cards over time and mail them (with an eye on identity security, of course). It's a small gesture, but just imagine the effect if we all recycled shopping cards.

Will you join me?

Word Girl

2010-03-17T20:16:00.004-05:00

This was in my home e-mail inbox today. If I didn't know better, I'd think Noah Webster was mocking me from his grave because of my recently developed dislike of this particular word when overused in popular literature.

Oddly enough, the "Word of the Day" etymology hit the nail on the head. "Yes," I thought, "As a matter of fact, this word does make me scowl." But, not because its origin seems uncertain.

By the way, you should sign up for your "Word of the Day."

Merriam-Webster’s
Word of the Day

glower
\GLOW-er (the OW is as in "cow")

verb
Meaning
: to look or stare with sullen annoyance or anger

Example Sentence
I could sense Katherine glowering at me after I took her usual parking spot.

Did you know?
Do words of uncertain origin make you scowl? If so, "glower" may put a frown on your face, because only part of its history can be validated. The well-established part of its story leads us to Scotland, where "glower" (or "glowren," to use the older Scottish form of the word) has been used since the late Middle Ages. Originally, the word meant simply "to look intently" or "to stare in amazement," but by the late 1700s, glowering stares were being associated with anger instead of astonishment. Beyond that, however, the history of the word is murky. The most we can say is that "glower" is a distant relative of Middle Low German "glūren," which means "to be overcast," and of Middle Dutch "gloeren," meaning "to leer."

*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.

Pi in the Sky

2010-03-14T19:52:00.005-05:00

Today is Pi Day, and if you get the reference without having to click the link, thank a math teacher from your past. (Props to Mrs. Stica - You're tops!)

So, in honor of Pi Day - and to provide tasty comfort food on a sloppy, dreary day - Wonder Child and I feasted on homemade chicken pot pie and pudding pie.

I'm not embarrassed to say this - I love my chicken pot pie. It's easy, warm in my tummy and oh-so-good! Did I mention easy?

Homemade Chicken Pot Pie
2 tbsp. onion
1 boneless chicken breast, cut into bite-sized pieces
Seasoning to taste (pepper, basil, garlic powder)
1 can of cream of chicken soup
1/2 cup of light sour cream
Frozen peas, corn and carrots
1 can of mushrooms
1 cup of pasta, cooked (or you can boil diced potatoes)
Shredded cheese (optional)
Canned biscuits or crescent rolls (or mix up a little Bisquick with water)

Saute the onions in a little olive oil in a saucepan. Brown the chicken with the onions. Add the soup, sour cream and vegetables. Simmer to thaw the vegetables.

In a separate saucepan, cook the pasta al dente. Once the pasta is cooked, drain and pour the pasta in the bottom of a casserole dish. Pour the chicken mixture over the pasta.

Top with a little shredded cheese, if you want. (For me, a comfort-food casserole has to have a little cheese, otherwise, it's ... well ... "un"comfortable.)

Tonight, I used four canned crescent rolls to top the pot pie, but I have also used canned biscuits or mixed up a little Bisquick and water. Whatever you do, you don't want it to be very thick because it won't bake thoroughly. Bake for 30-40 minutes at 350 degrees.

And, for dessert - very simple. Pre-made graham cracker crust, two boxes of pistachio instant pudding/pie filling (prepare according to the package for pie filling), a little whipped topping and some sprinkles. Festive, delicious ...

... and easy as ... (heh) ... Pi!

Thirsty for a good book?

2010-03-08T19:38:00.003-06:00

My friend Susan recommended "Water for Elephants," by Sara Gruen when I asked for suggestions for my reading list in January of 2009.

I didn't get to it until this year, but it was worth the wait. You probably think, because I work at a zoo, a book with elephants in the title is a shoe-in. Admittedly, I was intrigued by the title. But, a few pages in, and the story and characters hooked me for sure. Great plot, plenty of twists and an unpredictable ending.

Another great suggestion from a great friend. Another great addition to my library.

My current book is "The School of Essential Ingredients." Any suggestions for what's next?

A selection from the bookshelf

2010-02-21T20:40:00.007-06:00

I traveled on business a couple of weeks ago, and I typically take along a book for the plane. This trip's selection was "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows.

My friend Jennifer recommended it to me last year when I asked for suggestions for my 2009 reading list. Jennifer is an amazing writer in her own right, so I certainly took her recommendation to heart.

Crafted as a collection of letters and telegrams, this book was a delicious change of pace. It was easy to pick up and read for short periods of time (good for an on-the-go mom and professional). The story - Post WWII following the German occupation - personalized the trauma of war and captured our innate "survival" spirit.

An interesting twist to the book's authors: Ms. Shaffer fell ill before the book was completed, and her niece, Ms. Barrows, finished the work.

I've already loaned the book to a friend and promised it to another upon its return. This is a must-read.

And, more than that, reading these letters made me long for the days that I hand-wrote letters to friends. I might just begin that again. Inspiration!

It's been awhile

2010-02-19T21:10:00.003-06:00

I was beginning to think the people in charge of marquee messages around town were getting better. It's been awhile since I posted a signage faux pas.

But, alas and alack, I found this (at a store that, sadly, has been the subject of more than one Serendipity posted):

Update: I took the picture on Wednesday. Today is Friday, and the sign was updated on one side yesterday and the other side today: "HAMBERGER" was shortened to "HB."

My question: "Is there something wrong with U?"

Sweetheart memories

2010-02-16T19:53:00.007-06:00

Valentine's Day was this past weekend. I don't know why I didn't write about this sooner, but I didn't.

Several months ago, my parents "re-gifted" to me several boxes of my childhood toys and stuff (let me emphasize stuff). The boxes are neatly stacked in my garage waiting for me to go through them. I haven't had time, and the task seems rather daunting.

But, among the boxes is a box covered with white tissue paper and decorated with red velvety ribbon and paper Valentine. It is one of two boxes I used for our Camp Fire father-daughter box suppers in February. (The other box holds my mother's meat grinder, and, despite the years that have passed, the box is still wrapped with its red crepe paper and white doilies. Somehow, I think Mom isn't quite ready to let go of those doilies. And, I know right where it is in their basement.)

I asked Mom if she had any photos from the box suppers, but she hasn't found them yet. The mothers didn't attend the evening (hence the lack of photos). It was a special night just for us girls and our dads. We Camp Fire Girls usually put together a little skit or simple entertainment. (Anyone remember, Mr. Whitehead and "It's too ugly!"?) Dinner for my dad and me usually included fried chicken.

The highlight of the evening for me - and the the part I remember most fondly - was our tradition of singing one particular song with our dads:

Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.
Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.
Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true.
Let me call you "Sweetheart," I'm in love with you.

To this day, just thinking about the song brings tears to my eyes. Love you, Daddy.

Laissez les bon temps rouler*

2010-02-15T20:12:00.017-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, Wonder Child's school hosted a trivia night. I was invited to join a team that spanned two tables, and we selected "Mardi Gras" as our theme. Very ambitious team members built a "float" of sorts for us to parade in, throwing beads and doubloons to the other teams. We filled our tables with jambalaya, red beans and rice, gumbo and more delicious Cajun delights.

My contribution was the King Cake. One of the benefits of having been married to someone from New Orleans is a number of cookbooks gracing my shelves. One particularly interesting one is "Hot Beignets and Warm Boudiors," a collection of recipes and the respective romantic bed & breakfasts. I would have fought for custody of this book, had it come to that, for the King Cake recipe alone.

I've only made a King Cake a couple of times, including my most recent adventure. But, I had the foresight along the way to make notes along with the recipe.

Split the dough in two and make two smaller
King Cakes - easier to manage.
Don't mix in cinnamon with the glaze; it turns the glaze brown.

But, the King Cake had to be fresh and, more importantly, authentic. So, the morning of Trivia Night, I dedicated myself to watching dough rise. And, once it did, I rolled it out and added the simple cinnamon sugar filling.

Cut the dough and braided it, forming it into a ring.

Thanks to my parents for the silicone pastry/basting brush for Christmas. It was perfect for the egg wash!

Rising once is never enough. Two King Cakes rested peacefully on the stove ... and I waited.

And, so they baked ... beautifully! Adorned with the glaze and traditional purple, green and gold sugars. And, of course, a Baby Jesus tucked neatly into one section.

Tomorrow is Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday)! Let the good times roll!*

Premonition

2010-02-14T20:14:00.006-06:00

This week, I made a quick trip to West Virginia to present a workshop session during a zoo and aquarium professional development school. The weather for the mid-Atlantic states has been horrendous with snowfall measured in feet rather than inches.

When I travel, I pack a few snacks - partly because I'm diabetic and mostly because snacks are expensive to purchase at the airport or hotel. You never know when a flight will be delayed, messing up meal time.

As I packed for what was literally a 36-hour trip, I threw in a few snacks - a package of Pop-Tarts, a bag of Shannah's ranch oyster CRACKers, Reese's peanut butter cups (dark chocolate - Oh, MY!), and another snack bar. And - boy howdy! - was I glad I packed generously on the snacks.

I arrived in Wheeling, WV, after uneventful flights to Memphis and Pittsburgh, and a slow, but safe, shuttle ride from Pittsburgh to Wheeling. I checked into Wilson Lodge and settled in. By then, it was a little after 8 p.m. Just as I was deciding it was time to venture down to the restaurant for a quick dinner, the electricity went out.

My co-workers who were attending one of the schools were on their way to pizza with their classmates. A flurry of text messages ended with "We're at the cabins at the bottom of the hill. Probably not bringing back anything. We're on foot."

"No problem - I'll make due," I wrote.

I snuggled under the bed covers, doubled over, and enjoyed my dinner of Pop-Tarts and crackers. I saved the Reese's and the snack bar for the next day ... just in case. I didn't have to break out the reserves for breakfast, though. Power was restored about 3 a.m.

The other part of my premonition to be prepared was the choice of key chains for my luggage key. I rummaged through Wonder Child's stash of random key chains for something with a flashlight. I can tell you this isn't the last trip that little flashlight will take.

Book shelf: The Host

2010-02-14T19:45:00.003-06:00

My first book of 2010 is "The Host" by Stephenie Meyer. I first discovered Meyer last year through her "Twilight" series. "The Host" is Meyer's first adult novel. (Yes, the "Twilight series was teen lit, despite its overwhelming adult following.)

It took me a little bit to get into "The Host." But, as with "Twilight," Meyer masterfully creates engaging characters with whom you can empathize.

My one criticism of Meyer's writing is her frequent use of the word "glowered." It was used frequently in the "Twilight" books; it's overused in "The Host." In my opinion, she surpassed her lifetime quota of the word. There are other words: glared, scowled, seethed, fumed ... I place part of this and occasional questionable grammar squarely on the shoulders of editors, too.

I will say, though, "glowered" didn't keep me from finishing the book. Meyer's books are a commitment, though - "The Host" is more than 600 pages. There were times I thought she could have wrapped up the story, but she added in another interesting turn of events to keep moving along.

I noticed looking at her Web site just now, that she and I share in common an affection for "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows. I'm a few dozen pages from finishing it (thanks to a recent trip out-of-town). But, I'll save that review for later.

Backseat perspective

2010-02-09T20:45:00.006-06:00

This is why I affectionately refer to my son as "Wonder Child." On the way home from school today, Wonder Child launched us into the following conversation after hearing a news report about more snow coming to the mid-Atlantic region:

WC: "I wonder why God is sending more snow."

Me: "Where?"

WC: "To D.C., Washington District of Columbia. They must have done something bad."

Me: "What do you mean?"

WC: "Like Noah ... and the 40 days and 40 nights."

Me: "So you think God is making it snow there so much because He isn't happy with how they are acting?"

WC: "Yes. Maybe they aren't doing what God wants them to do. Or, He wants them to do good things. God has a reason for everything."

I think Wonder Child might be on to something here. I hope the Washington politicians are paying attention.

Is it soup yet?

2010-02-04T21:11:00.006-06:00

Yesterday, we hosted a "Zooper Bowl" lunch at work. (Thanks - I came up with the name!) Everyone was encouraged to bring a soup or chili to share (and their own bowls and spoons to be more environmentally friendly, of course).

As inevitably happens with potlucks, the only word to describe the event was, "WOW!" We had potato soup (with bacon - YUM!), beef vegetable stew, three versions of chili (a little spicy, not spicy and white chicken), sausage stew, sausage-picante soup and beef barley soup.

My contributions were the white chicken chili and the sausage-picante soup. Yes, I was an over-achiever bringing TWO offerings (and the sour cream, shredded cheese and cornbread). But, that's a-whole-nother post.

If you're looking for a soup that will warm you inside and out, I recommend the sausage-picante soup. I'm not sure where I got the recipe. But, it's a favorite in my house, and you can easily spice it up or down with the picante sauce you choose. I also cut down the fat by using turkey smoked sausage. And, I prefer broccoli, but you can use what you have on hand or like for the vegetable - carrots and spinach work well, too.

Sausage-Picante Soup
1 tsp. olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
1/2 cup celery, diced very small
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 lb. smoked sausage
1 lb. broccoli (frozen chopped works well)
2 cans low-sodium/low-fat chicken broth
2 cans white beans, drained and rinsed

Heat oil. Saute onion, celery and garlic. Add sausage and brown. Add broccoli and cook two minutes. Add broth, picante sauce and beans. Heat to a boil.

A portion of the Zooper Bowl lunch. The sausage-picante soup is in the lower left corner.

Question from the backseat

2010-01-31T20:48:00.003-06:00

Here's today's question from Wonder Child:

Will your bellybutton every go away?

A little context: Last week he asked, "What is your bellybutton?"

I have lovingly termed this "delayed contemplation."

Early dismissal for snow equals ...

2010-01-29T17:38:00.005-06:00

What's in your bag?

2010-01-27T20:00:00.005-06:00

There's nothing like the crunchy-sour-salty-satisfying YUM of a bag of salt and vinegar chips. Just ask Dwight from 7 Cs Winery. Or, maybe not.

Dwight was sitting next to me today at a meeting of Springfield attractions. Just as the meeting was getting underway, he opened the bag of salt and vinegar potato chips in his box lunch (from a restaurant I'll kindly not name - it's not their fault!) and was quite surprised!

Needless to say, his bag was heavy on the "potato" and light on the "chips."

Today's Safety Reminder

2010-01-22T21:03:00.003-06:00

Before we pulled out of the garage this morning on the way to school, Wonder Child snapped his latest plush friend into place.

Meet "Who Dat." (For those of you who don't have a clue as to what this name refers, here's a little help with the translation.) *

And, remember to buckle up - It's the law!

* I should point out that Wonder Child spent his Christmas vacation with his dad ... in New Orleans ... and, did I mention the Saints actually have a winning record and a chance at playing in the teams very first Super Bowl since being founded in 1967?

Are you my type?

2010-01-19T20:22:00.005-06:00

You know you've done a little too much design work in your career when this headline on a daily e-mail news digest catches your eye:

What typeface are you?

Needless to say, all work stopped until after I had clicked the link. Four simple, self-reflective questions later, and I had my answer:

Pistilli Roman

Huh? Never heard of it.

After a quick Google search, I found out that Pistilli Roman, previous unavailable in digital form, has been resurrected as Eloquent. I found that oddly comforting on many levels.

Curious? Click here and find out your typeface. (The password is character.)

Just couldn't resist a few more

2010-01-05T20:14:00.013-06:00

More great pictures from the winter wonderland of work.

Ginger the mountain lion starting stalking me. I imagined her thinking something like, "Hey, fool! Don't you know it's 10 degrees out here?"

Kruger the cheetah wasn't growling at me, as it looks in the picture. I caught him yawning. This is the fourth in a series of "yawn-in-progress" from the wildlife feature Nap Interrupted.

Moola, the youngest of our elephant herd, tasted snow in between bites of hay.

Whereas Ol' C.C., our oldest elephant, wasn't much interested in the snow or the hay; she only wanted to interact with the zookeepers at the fence.

All in a day's work

2010-01-04T20:25:00.004-06:00

I don't often blog about work. No particular reason, I guess. But, I love my job. And, I love the unusual things I get to do.

The park is closed because of Sunday's snow, and we'll likely be closed for several days. More snow is in the forecast for Wednesday and Thursday. But, this afternoon, although frigid, was sunny. I grabbed my camera and headed out to see what I could find.

Our maintenance crew has done a great job of clearing the walkways. Luckily, I could drive my car into part of the zoo to get closer. But still, there were places where I tromped through several inches of snow to get these shots.

Did I mention I love my job?

An open letter to the New Year

2010-01-01T13:09:00.006-06:00

Dear 2010,

I've decided this year not to post resolutions here for public consumption. You and I will just keep them our little secrets.

However, I have a few stipulations I'd like to make clear from the beginning about my expectations for you as a New Year. I promise to uphold my end of our bargain as long as you do.

First, please be kind to me and those around me. I promise to slow down, find the joy in the "little things" and take time for myself and my family. But, in exchange, I would ask that you not make any sudden course adjustments without warning. Life should not be a full-contact sport.

Second, everything gets better with age. So, as your numbers move forward, I expect that the joyful times will far exceed those of 2009. And, the converse is also true. The down times will be less tumultuous than in 2009.

And, finally, I expect you to be filled with glorious serendipity because it is in the unexpected that we often find the greatest blessings.

Deal?

Ye of little faith

2009-12-31T13:36:00.004-06:00

A couple of days ago, I passed by a local flower shop and saw this sign. The sentiment has bugged me ever since. Don't get me wrong - I get the intent. But, I have to admit I find it a little distressing.

Maybe, if a few more people tried a little harder to fulfill their resolutions, we wouldn't have as many troubles.

By the way, I didn't do too badly with my resolutions:

I'm making strides in expanding prayer in my life.
I rode Bike MS 2009 ... and am already registered for Bike MS 2010!
I didn't tackle my APR studies as I had planned. But, there's always 2010.
I honestly attempted to be the best person I could be for those around me - as a mother, daughter, sister, friend, professional, teacher and co-worker.
And, I've already discussed my book-reading accomplishments.

Perhaps the people at the flower shop are reaching out to those people who have few intentions of keeping their resolutions yet find themselves needing to buy flowers to make up for something.

Might I suggest a different marquee message?

May Joy Bloom for You in 2010

Catching up on my latest reads

2009-12-26T20:50:00.011-06:00

I've done well this year with my New Year's resolution to read more. To date, I've read 21books. That doesn't quite jive with my "Read it in 2009" list in the right-hand column. That's because I read four of those books (The Twilight series) multiple times. (You can do the math to figure out how many times I went through the series of four books.)

My latest additions were "Dear John," the third novel by Nicholas Sparks for me this year, and "The Lovely Bones" by Alice Sebold. Both were reading selections after I saw trailers for the movies. And, I have a personal rule: Read the book before you see the movie.

"Dear John" is Sparks' typical romance, this time between a college student on a domestic mission trip and a military serviceman. The story spans time and explores the intricacies of relationships, both the love between the main characters and also those around them.

The story within "The Lovely Bones" is the tragic events of a 14-year-old girl's death and the ripple effects among her family and friends. It is a captivating story that makes you wonder about the possibility that those who have gone before us are among us now on Earth. And, the plentiful twists and turns made it difficult to put down.

Important holiday refreshment tip

2009-12-26T08:34:00.008-06:00

Last night was Christmas evening. I decided to splurg a bit and treat myself to a glass of egg nog.

Tip: Be aware of the juxtiposition of items on your refrigerator shelf.

You might find yourself, as I did, on the verge of great disappointment (and borderline "grossed out"!).

I, of course, cursed the marketing people under my breath for the cartons' color similarities and the placement of "Egg" at nearly the exact same place.

Fortunately for me, I caught my error before it went too far.

The blessing of gifts

2009-12-20T20:54:00.006-06:00

Today was family Christmas for my parents, Wonder Child and me, thanks to a topsy-turvy holiday schedule. Dinner was at our house. Suffice it to say, it was a wonderful day. Great food, wonderful company and the blessings of the season.

Mom and Daddy have been reading my blog lately. I know this, because Daddy walked in and handed me part of my Christmas present. My grandmother's cookie jar. (It makes sense if you read this.) And, it was filled with lebkuchen cookies. (You'll need to read here to catch up.) Thanks for the refill!

Our Christmas celebration was just beginning. The gifts could've ended right then for me, and my holiday would have been complete.

I am blessed to have spent the day with the three people who mean the most to me. That's Christmas enough for me.

Thank you, God.

The Act of Contrition

2009-12-15T21:13:00.005-06:00

O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven, and the pains of hell; but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to confess my sins,
to do penance,
and to amend my life.
Amen.

If you aren't Catholic, you may not fully understand the Sacrament of Penance. For some, the question is, "Why do you have to tell a priest? Just ask God for forgiveness." (Want to understand more? Here's a thorough explanation.)

The churches in our area have communal penance services where the faithful come together in prayer and the opportunity for individual confession. Tonight, as I waited to go to confession, I heard a woman behind me explaining "going to confession" to a child. I couldn't help glancing curiously toward them when the young girl asked, "Is he going to get mad at you?" only because I wondered how old the girl was (not yet a teenager).

I chuckled to myself at the thought of getting in trouble ... seemed a little pre-Vatican II to me. (For you non-Catholics, think "old school.")

On the contrary, confession is an amazing, cathartic experience. Through His forgiveness, I receive peace and grace. The Christmas "spirit" has been rather evasive for me this season. Maybe now, able to let go of a few things, I'll find it.

It couldn't have gotten much worse, and then ...

2009-12-09T21:16:00.005-06:00

Yesterday was not a particularly good day.

It seemed like one little thing after another that kept piling up. Nothing good on top of nothing good. Not the least of which was my discovery that the fire alarm in the office works just fine. (Don't ask me how I know this.)

Wonder Child was out of school for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Last year, he and his cousins descended on Gammie's kitchen to bake Christmas cookies on the school holiday. This year, the cousins couldn't join in, so he and Gammie baked up a storm.

Last night, when I got home, there was a bucket of Christmas cookies on my counter. And, Wonder Child was bubbling over about being allowed to take cookie sheets out of the oven (under Gammie's close supervision). What a big boy he's become.

Spritz. Oatmeal raisin. Snickerdoodles. Cut-out cookies with lots of sprinkles. (I didn't have guess who was in charge of the sprinkles.) Many of our family's traditional holiday treats.

After Wonder Child's bedtime (not to mention the day I had), I needed a cookie. So, I opened the bucket and rummaged through. Gammie had neatly layered cookies and separated the layers with paper towels. Cut-outs ... oatmeal raisin ... snickerdoodles ... Wait ... what's this?

And, there they were - like gold ingots gleaming at the end of the rainbow. Gammie didn't mention she had slipped in a layer of Aunt Laura's German Lebkuchen cookies. Chewy, sweet, with wonderful winter spices (allspice and cloves). The only problem is, there weren't very many of them.

I think "refill" is a two-way street.

The year was 1929

2009-11-30T22:35:00.012-06:00

These days, we equate "Black Friday" with that horrendous Friday-after-Thanksgiving retail madness. But, do you remember how the term originated? I chuckle at the irony.

The original "black" day, "Black Tuesday," was October 29, 1929 - the day Wall Street crashed, ushering in The Great Depression. (If you need a history refresher, look here, here and here.) Hardly a day to rush out and shop 'til you drop.

A month after the crash, on November 30, William (Bill) Clarence Arnold married Alma Elizabeth Walker. He was 24 and handsome; she was 16 and beautiful.

That was 80 years ago today, and they are my grandparents.

My oldest brother modeled his name for our grandfather after my parents, who called my father's father "Dad." The name stuck with all of us grandkids. So, my grandparents were Grandma and Dad. (And, consequently to avoid confusion, my father was - and still is - Daddy ... at least to me.)

I remember spending a week during my childhood summers at their home on Missouri Avenue in Marionville. (Yes, I've seen a white squirrel. Grandma had pictures of them, too.)

I remember Scotty and Darin that lived next door. I liked playing with them but wasn't particularly fond of the fact that Darin sometimes visited when I wasn't there and sat on Grandma's lap. I told him one day, in no uncertain terms, that she was my Grandma and he couldn't sit there. He had his own Grandma.

There was a sand box on the east side of the house under a big shade tree. I loved that sand box. I spent hours building roads with my brothers' trucks. Sometimes, I let Darin play in the sand, too, provided he hadn't been caught sitting on Grandma's lap again.

By far, though, my favorite part of the yard was the peony garden. I couldn't begin to estimate how many peony bushes were there. All pink. Hundreds of flowers, blooming in May. Dad would cut some of the peonies to decorate family graves on Memorial Day.

Once in awhile, I got to go upstairs in the house. That was a special treat, because "up yonder" was normally off-limits. I remember Grandma Arnold's bedroom (that was my great-grandmother) and the wallpaper - burgundy with big white flowers.

I remember going to "Garden Club" with Grandma. One summer, we wore matching pink gingham dresses and bonnets. We were quite a sight!

Grandma always whispered; she never talked in a full voice that I knew of. She sewed, embroidered and quilted. Her quilts were "tack" quilts, not the fancier stitched kind.

She collected salt and pepper shakers and displayed them in a china cabinet that is now in my living room. The salt and pepper shakers are gone, but in their place is her pink dogwood china. And, the mantle clock that sat atop the china cabinet is on my mantle.

I remember helping Grandma bake peanut butter cookies, enough to more than fill her cookie jar. (By the way, Daddy - I call dibs on inheriting the cookie jar ... just reminding you ...)

I inherited my middle name and a fondness for the color pink from Grandma.

I interviewed Dad for a junior high history project. I wish I still had the tape recording to hear his stories of the one-room school house and life as a boy in the early 1900s.

Dad worked in a shoe factory and did carpentry work. He stooped at the shoulders and shuffled as he walked. His hair was white in his old age. (I look at my father today, and the resemblance is unmistakable.)

Most often, Dad wore a Dickies blue chambray shirt, Big Smith striped overalls (like these), a Key engineer's cap and work boots. He carried a bandanna in his pocket for a handkerchief. (The photo is Dad and Grandma, Daddy and his older brother Floyd. This must have been in the very early 1940s, guessing my father's age at the time.)

Dad always stopped at the sink just inside the back door to wash his hands and combed his hair before he came to the dinner table. He drank a cup of coffee each evening at 8 o'clock (or so I'm told).

He taught us grandkids to put peanut butter on a hamburger. (Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it.)

Grandma and Dad lived a humble life ... nothing fancy. Grandma died in 1989. Dad died in 1995. But, they are never far away. There is so much of them in my world everyday in photographs and mementos throughout my home.

Happy 80th anniversary, Grandma and Dad. I love you.

Refill, please

2009-11-29T10:45:00.005-06:00

It's Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend. And, first of all, I realize I've been away for about six weeks. That's a story for another day.

I offered to make pumpkin pie for family dinner this year. I had ulterior motives. I needed a relatively "guilt-free" dessert to cap off what I knew would be an over-the-top, delicious meal. My mother is the queen of family dinners, and this year's was perfect - as always.

"Guilt-free" dessert? Yes - I've lost nearly 25 pounds in 16 weeks. I'm not about to let the holidays blow that for me.

When I posted to Facebook that I was making Crustless Pumpkin Pie, I received several requests for the recipe. It's basically pumpkin custard firm enough (mostly) to be sliced and served like pie. All the pumpkin taste, and none of the crust-calorie guilt.

Crustless Pumpkin Pie
15 oz. canned pumpkin
1/2 cup Egg Beaters
1 1/2 cup skim milk
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pumpkin pie spice
1 1/2 cup Splenda

Mix all ingredients together. Pour into a pie plate sprayed with non-stick spray. Bake at 400 for 15 minutes, then reduce heat to 375 and bake for 30-45 minutes.

In the interest of full disclosure, this wasn't the only pie I made. My father has talked off and on over the past months about undertaker's pie. For other folks, that's raisin pie. But, in my family, it's always been called "undertaker's" or "preacher's" pie. I remembered making one several years ago from a Martha Stewart recipe that used both dark and golden raisins. But, I couldn't find where I had clipped and saved it.

Thankfully, there is the Internet. Martha has that recipe on her Web site. In my opinion, it's the golden raisins that make this pie so tasty.

And, it turned out to be a work of art. Delicious. And, yes, I had a small slice. Can you blame me?

When my dad returned the empty pie plate to me last night, he commented, "It could be refilled."

Wanna guess what's baking in my oven today?

The downward spiral

2009-10-14T21:15:00.006-05:00

I heard it in her voice, this friend of mine. The downward spiral drew her in ... slowly ... painfully. Confined her movements. Suppressed logical thinking. The reflection in the mirror was a stranger.

I remember how it felt. You will your feet to move. It's futile. You feel as if fingers wrap around your throat, cutting off the screams, straining your breath. Silence is deafening. You yearn for someone to throw you a lifeline but lack the courage to ask.

This goes on ... and on ... and on. You spiral farther down ... down ... down, until you hit bottom. Only then do you hear the whisper ... I am here, reach out, I am hear, I will help you.

Your inner voice coaxes you forward. And, like the snap of a rubber band, you spring out of the spiral and into the light.

Warm. Embracing. Comforting. Light ... where you find Freedom. Movement. Voice. Strength.

Yourself.

And, me without my camera

2009-10-09T21:07:00.004-05:00

Seen today on a fast-food chain restaurant's sign:

BACK FOR LIMITED
ENGAG MENT
$1 DOUBLE CHEESE

I didn't have my camera with me to capture the moment. (That's a first!) And, I truly hope someone there knows the Heimlich maneuver.

"Would you like to buy ..."

2009-10-04T20:08:00.006-05:00

First grade for Wonder Child also means he's now old enough to venture into the world of Boy Scouts as a Tiger Cub. We attended our first pack meeting a couple of weeks ago and received our first order of business ... popcorn sales.

At the meeting, the leaders regaled the boys with the "how-to" of popcorn sales and tossed in a "how-not-to" video with "bad boys" that seemed to make a significant impression on Wonder Child.

This afternoon, after he got home from the weekend with his dad, I suggested he put on his uniform shirt and hat (not a lot of arm-twisting required there!) so we could walk through our neighborhood selling popcorn.

I walked with him to all of the houses, but I hung back and let him do all the selling. I wanted to see what he would do with the experience. But, mostly, I wanted the success to be his, not mine.

I have to say I was near tears with pride a couple of times, listening to him give his sales pitch:

"Hi, my name is __, and I live just down the street. Would you like to buy some Boy Scout popcorn? The money helps our pack with our Pinewood Derby and going to summer camp. And, it helps Boy Scouts all around the world!"

He wasn't overly discouraged when the answer was "no" at the first house. (We don't know those neighbors very well.) And, the next eight houses were a smashing success! (Never mind the three neighbors who weren't home - we're headed back there this week.)

I realized his confidence was increasing when he added lines: "You can order as many as you want to," or "You can order whichever one you want."

Granted, he has the "cuteness" factor working in his favor, and he looks pretty darn sharp in his uniform shirt. But, most of all, he made the effort so sincerely and seriously. And, he thanked everyone without prompting from me.

At one point, as we were walking between houses, he asked, "Am I doing what the bad boys in the video did?"

I reassured him, "Absolutely not - you're doing everything right."

Would you like to buy some popcorn? I can arrange for the cutest little Tiger Cub to appear on your doorstep. He'll charm your socks off!

Celebrating books

2009-09-27T20:07:00.007-05:00

September 26 kicked off Banned Books Week. It is an annual celebration of intellectual freedom and our freedom to read, and draws attention to the dangers of censorship and its threats to the First Amendment.

As a mother, I am very proud that Wonder Child is reading independently (although he still enjoys being read to as much as I enjoy reading to him). Our house is filled with books of all shapes, sizes, topics and authors; from classics to popular culture and more.

The ability to read is something that can never be taken away from a child. Once you can read, you can always read. And, books open up a world of adventure, exploration, wonder and knowledge.

You might be surprised at the books that have faced challenges and being banned (see lists here and here). If nothing else, use these lists to set your own reading goals and build your personal library.

Each month, I am adding to my list of books read. I recently finished "Adverbs" by Daniel Handler (author of the Lemony Snicket series). It was an interesting adventure in character essays. Each chapter title, as noted in the book's title, is an adverb. "Obviously," "Frigidly," "Naturally" and "Judgmentally" are just a few chapters.

The writing is a bit "stream of consciousness" for me. It ebbs and flows, sometimes nonsensically. This is my first book by Handler, so I don't know if this is common in his writing.

I picked up "Adverbs" off the discount table at Powell's Books in Portland during a recent trip. Unfortunately, I cannot say I made it to the "big" Powell's. Rather it was their satellite bookstore in the Portland airport. Nonetheless, I can say I visited Powell's, can't I?

Day 2 - the real test

2009-09-25T21:11:00.012-05:00

Day 2 of Bike MS 2009 was, by far, the more difficult of the two days. Saturday night's rains in neighboring towns resulted in flooded roads and debris that necessitated last-minute re-routing our return trip from Joplin to Clever.

As Debbie, the director of the local MS Society, gave us final instructions before we left Joplin, she included, "We're not sure what the mileage is today." (I think I detected a bit of a nervous giggle from her.)

And, the wet weather also gave us incredibly dense fog along much of the early sections of the route. It's more than a little disconcerting when you barely see the riders 200 feet in front of you. (Thank God for "Optik Yellow" jackets!)

I knew from a conversation with Endorphin teammate Dale to watch the road for his bits of humor, injected while he marked the return route for us. (Pardon me, Dale, if these aren't entirely exact. I didn't have anything to write with on my bike.) Some of the more memorable were

"Aw NUTS!" indicating a section of road peppered with fallen walnuts from a nearby tree.
"Care to Rest?" with an arrow pointing to a cemetery.
"Will work for food" preceded the hill leading up to the lunch stop.

The rerouting also meant that we rode a section of the "century" loop (for those ambitious enough to ride 100 miles either day). I found out the century loop isn't nearly as fun as the flats from Day 1. No - quite the contrary. The century loop had many, MANY more hills.

I also learned what "chip and seal" road looks (and feels) like. And, honestly, there were stretches of significantly more "chip" than "seal."

By the end of the ride ... maybe the last 30 miles ... it took every ounce of determination I had to finish. I didn't want to sag (you know, load the bike on a truck and ride in that way). No - I very much wanted to show myself that I could do this.

I was so determined that I skipped the last rest stop, riding the final 17.5 miles straight through to the finish. And, waiting for me were Wonder Child (thanks again to his dad, who was also there cheering me on), my parents and total strangers (who cheered even though they didn't know me from the next rider).

With 160+ miles behind me, here's what I learned:

Those around you can either lift you up or push you down. I prefer to surround myself with the first type of person.
Sometimes, you just have to get off and walk up a hill. And, that's okay - because you're still moving forward. ... and there is NO SHAME in walking up a hill.
Remembering why you chose the path you are on can get you through the roughest roads.
A little humor goes a long way.

After I shed a few tears at the finish line (okay, it was more like a LOT of tears), I knew this wouldn't be my last Bike MS event.

It was about pushing myself past comfortable limits to a goal and being triumphant.

It was about giving everything I have (and more!)
to help others.

It was about being part of something so much larger than the individuals making up the whole.

For 2010, I'm all in!

Learning to be all I can be

2009-09-22T21:28:00.008-05:00

I've been away for a while ... from home, from Serendipity. Traveling to Portland ... and more importantly, spending my weekend on a bike ... for hours ... in random weather ... praying my way up hills ... rejoicing on the flats. This past weekend was the culmination of my summer of training.

It was Bike MS 2009.

First and foremost, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to family, friends and colleagues who sponsored me. I raised more than $1,000 for the MS Society ... excellent effort for my first ride. Beyond those who sponsored me financially were the many, many more who supported me emotionally with words of encouragement. Having all of you backing me made a world of difference.

Day 1 of Bike MS started out cool and cloudy. I was a bundle of nerves and remember commenting to someone that I just needed to get on my bike and ride to get rid of some excess energy. I joined up with a few of my Endorphin teammates at the starting line before we took off at 7:15. Standing among the 950 cyclists at the starting line at Clever High School.

The weather cooperated nicely, with the exception of annoying off-and-on drizzle over the last 25 miles. At times on the flats, I breezed along at a surprising 18 mph! (Thankfully, that pace made up for the spinning I did to make it up some of the hills!)

All along the route, the rest stops and lunch stop in Pierce City were staffed by amazing volunteers. To say they were helpful and cheerful is a significant understatement. And, rest stop #7 ROCKED! Homemade cookies, pickle juice and potatoes with sea salt - YUM! (I learned the pickle juice and potatoes were good for replacing electrolytes.)

I arrived in Joplin at a few minutes before 3 p.m., jubilant because I expected to pull in about an hour later than that. My actual "pedal" time was about 5.75 hours (a pace of slightly more than 14 mph). Here I am with Joyce, team captain of the Endorphins. That's some seriously sweaty "helmet hair" going on!

Shortly after I walked my bike to the overnight lock-up, Wonder Child arrived, thanks to his dad, who generously made the drive up from northwest Arkansas. Unfortunately, because I underestimated my pace, they missed my crossing the finish line.

Day 1 was a lot of road time to think about what I was doing and why. Remember, this was on my list of New Year's resolutions. And, trust me - more than once during the ride, I seriously contemplated why I attempted this ride. In the end, making it to Joplin was a great personal triumph.

But, Day 1 was only the beginning of the journey. Day 2 was a whole new dragon to slay.

But, I'll save that story for another post.

Asked and answered

2009-09-07T10:23:00.003-05:00

My biking buddy Buck and I rode from northeast Springfield to Strafford yesterday. Along the way, we met up with Dan, who decided to ride along with us.

When we got the TA truck stop in Strafford (our rest stop), Buck was "thinking outside the bun" and made a "run for the border" at the miniature Taco Bell.

Dan and I waited for Buck at one of the tables. We overheard Buck's conversation with the young lady at the counter:

Buck: "What's the difference between a chicken taco and a chicken burrito?"
Girl: "One's a taco and the other's a burrito."

Dan and I couldn't contain our laughter.

Buck attempted a follow-up question for clarification ... something about ingredients, which she apparently was also unable to answer. At this point, Buck gave up. He went with the taco.

Apparently, it's all in the tortilla and the way it's wrapped. We're not sure ... (and neither is the girl behind the counter).

The time of one's life

2009-09-04T18:33:00.005-05:00

Continuing on my quest to read a book a month for pleasure, last night I finished Audrey Niffenegger's "The Time Traveler's Wife."

I borrowed the book from a coworker who thoroughly enjoyed the book. "Couldn't put it down," was her description. And, I don't think she's seen the movie for fear of being extremely disappointed.

I enjoyed the book, although probably not to that level. And, in fact, I'm a little indifferent about it. Interesting storyline. Great character development. Engaging twists and turns. Most all of the elements that make a book good.

But, I couldn't help feeling a little empty with the ending. So much went in to the time traveler's adventures and his time-challenged relationship with his wife. For me, the ending came too abruptly.

Simply put, I enjoyed the book, but I'm glad I borrowed it rather than buying it.

And, if you're counting, that's book number 10 in a little more than 8 months. And, considering I read the four "Twilight" books twice this summer, I'm well ahead of my resolved pace.

So, tell me ... what are you reading?

Can you hear me now?

2009-09-01T20:14:00.004-05:00

In my mind, the answer was a resounding, "YES, we can ALL hear you!"

I left work early today to go to my general practitioner, seeking his medical opinion on my very sore throat, headache and fatigue (all the while praying it wasn't the flu, which it isn't).

While I was in his rather small waiting room, another patient chatted away on her cell phone in full speaking voice with no attempt at courtesy for others who didn't particularly want to be privy to her entire conversation. The volume setting on her phone was so loud I not only heard her side of the conversation but also clearly heard every word spoken by the other person.

Frankly, this was a conversation I didn't want to hear - including the part about someone going to jail for allegedly committing unspeakable crimes and "if it was up to me, I'd do ____ to him."

Have we as a society lost all sense of decorum and privacy?

One year ... and counting

2009-08-26T21:12:00.005-05:00

At the risk of sounding goofy, it's my blog-iversary! My first post was rather prophetic: Life's funny -- That's serendipity! Unexpected, fortunate outcomes.

Thinking about the past year, I realize how blessed I am. A loving family, an abundance of fantastic friends and just enough bumps in the road to keep me humble (here and here). Together, we've laughed ... and cried. Sometimes, when we talk in person you ask about Wonder Child and his latest antics.

And, through it all, I've sincerely enjoyed every minute of writing for every post. That's my serendipity.

Thank you for joining me on this journey.

Game on!

2009-08-25T20:45:00.009-05:00

Very excited -- So far, my fundraising for Bike MS 2009 is just shy of $600. I turned in the money at a Bike MS event tonight and received my official Bike MS 2009 25th anniversary jersey.

I saw my biking buddy Buck and The Endorphins' team captain Joyce tonight, too. Accolades from all for surpassing the $500 mark and earning the jersey. I am more determined than ever to ride ... and finish.

Initially, my fundraising goal was $500 (I really wanted the jersey). But, my family, friends and colleagues have been so generous, I raised my goal to $750. If you would like to support my ride, please visit my Bike MS participant page.

Back to school

2009-08-24T23:43:00.005-05:00

Last week, Wonder Child launched into a new school year as a first grader. This week, it is my turn. I'm back again at Missouri State University as a per course instructor.

Tonight, I had 23 students seated in my class as I introduced them to media relations. Fortunately, this semester is starting out much less eventful than last spring. I have everything I need to teach (including keys to the classroom and a parking permit).

The most important ingredient for a successful semester ? Students who are willing to speak up in during class discussion. And, if tonight's class is any indication, this will be a semester filled with spirited discussion.

Time to hit the books!

Stumbling over a Motherhood Mountain

2009-08-19T20:46:00.003-05:00

He was stretched out on the sofa, mumbling ... a question, maybe? I left my dinner preparation duties in the kitchen and walked into the family room.

"Did you say something to me," I asked.

"What is 'sex'?" he asked matter-of-factly.

That was a line drive I didn't catch. It's not a question I expected Wonder Child to ask so casually (randomly) and without relevant context. I hope my years of media training didn't fail me in that instant of shock and awe, that my expression stayed as calm and nonchalant as I hoped.

He caught me off-guard, and I fumbled for an answer that would satisfy his curiosity without piquing it unnecessarily. "That's a word you probably hear once in awhile, isn't it?" I suggested.

"Yeah, like three or four times," he grumbled, showing his obvious frustration at hearing a word and having no meaning to associate with it.

"Thank you to the Cars movie and its 'sexy hot rod,' and country music and television, and ...," I thought. "Well, it is a very special thing for a man and a woman who care about each other ... more than just hugs and kisses."

There ... I did it. I did my best ... kept it simple, stupid, and wrapped up my explanation saying that when he was a little older, I would explain more.

"Yeah, like when I'm 16," he continued, still grumbling.

"Oh, most likely before that," I reassured him. "And, after I've had a bit more lead time to prep for this investigative reporter, thankyouverymuch!" I thought to myself.

I ride to make a difference

2009-08-18T21:55:00.006-05:00

You're probably a little tired of my droning on about cycling. Truth is, it has become a very important aspect of my leisure time.

My next big hurdle is to ride the 150-mile Bike MS event September 19-20. If you can, please support my efforts financially. It's very easy - visit my Bike MS page.

If you cannot make a financial contribution to the MS Society, please support us with prayers -- me, the other cyclists and, most importantly, those individuals and families who live with MS and its debilitating effects every day.

I'm sure I'll write more in the coming weeks as my training intensifies. But, the struggles I face over the next month or so are insignificant compared to the ones tackled by someone diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

Push-Pull-Push-Pull

2009-08-16T21:05:00.011-05:00

This weekend, I rode 15 miles one day and 22 the next. (If you need a reminder or primer of my reasons for these rides, read here and here.)

I'm fascinated by my sometimes random thoughts during my rides. It all depends on the terrain. The flats are something like, "What's ahead in my day?" or "What happened yesterday?" "Ack! Is that a hill? What gear am I in? Can I get up a little more speed?"

When the going gets tough on the hills, I even resort to something that has stuck with me for more than 30 years: "You can do it, Duffy Moon."

But, "Push-Pull-Push-Pull" has become my newest mantra on the hills. It's my way of reminding myself I'm not joy-riding. Quite the contrary - I have the biking shoes that lock my feet into my pedals and allow me to use different leg muscles, giving me more power in my cadence (most people would just call it "pedaling"). The "pull" up on the pedals is particular useful on hills.

As I was riding yesterday and conquering a hill that previously knocked me off my saddle and on to my feet to walk, I realized that "push-pull" is about more than just cycling up a hill.

It is a metaphor for the gumption it takes to get up at 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning to load my bike and gear to meet up with The Pedal Group and take off on a 22-mile ride. What I really wanted to do was sleep in for the first weekend in I-don't-know-how-long.

It is a metaphor for the challenges we all face every day. We're pushed. We pull. Sometimes, we coast ... even gain momentum. Sometimes, it is a struggle to get up the next hill and takes every ounce of commitment to stick with it. But, most of the time, we just keep pedaling steadily.

And, although my new biking buddy, Buck, readily reminds me: "There is no shame in walking up a hill," there's no better feeling than pedaling up a hill for the first time ... especially when there's someone at the top cheering you on. (Thanks, Buck - You rock!)

Wouldn't our world be a better place if we pushed and pulled together and remembered to cheer for each other a little louder?"Zits," July 5, 2009

The face of an angel

2009-08-06T16:19:00.003-05:00

I saw the face of an angel today, and his name is Noah.

Noah is no longer with us in this earthly world. His pain and suffering have ended. He is with God now.

And, you might not realize the difference one little boy can make during a mere three years and five months. But, a look around the room today during his funeral service is one assurance that the least among us do the most for us.

Among the family and friends gathered were nurses from St. Louis Children's Hospital, where he spent his final days. Others of us, like myself, were present not necessarily because we knew Noah but because we had other connections to his family.

And, through the eyes and hearts of those who knew him best, we learned a few things about Noah. He loved broccoli. He taught his dog to unroll the toilet paper (which he himself eventually stuffed in the toilet). And, most importantly, he had an amazing spirit and an uncanny ability to touch all those with whom he came into contact.

As a parent, my heart aches for Noah's mother, father and older brother. I cannot begin to imagine the pain of losing a child at such a delicate age. There is a hole in their world that will forever remain.

I pray the warmth of God's arms embrace all those who knew Noah and comfort them in their loss. There is no understanding or answers for the endless questions beginning with "why," only the faith that it was God's will that gave us Noah and His will that brought him home. The minister began today as I will end:

Naked I came forth from my mother's womb,
and naked shall I go back again.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away,
blessed be the name of the Lord.
Job 1:21

Are you missing the point?

2009-08-04T20:56:00.014-05:00

The poor maligned, misaligned decimal point.

Back when I was a kid, we learned the decimal point was the dot used to indicate fractions or portions of a whole number. It is particularly useful when expressing monetary amounts and used correctly with the dollar sign ($). If, instead, you chose to express an amount using the cent symbol (¢), the decimal was not used unless you were indicating a fraction of a penny.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, either that lesson was dropped from mathematics curricula or someone wasn't paying attention.

Exhibit A: the vending machine

Exhibit B: the restaurant sign

The last time I checked, the smallest denomination of money in America is still the penny. The mill hasn't been used in decades ... unless you're talking about gasoline. But, that's at the end of this post.

Exhibit C: another restaurant sign

This sign screams to me, "Dine here - where the decimal point is optional, or where we serve some seriously expensive ribs."

And, then there's gasoline. Why must we have the 9/10 tacked onto the price of a gallon of fuel? Can someone please explain this? Couldn't we simplify life a little by rounding up (or, preferably, down)?

I should note, Wonder Child learned a few things about money in kindergarten. He correctly places a decimal point with the dollar sign and leaves it out with the cent symbol. Just saying ...

All these signs within two miles of home. And, in case you're wondering - yes, I believe at some point, someone will take away my camera.

Things that matter ...

2009-07-21T19:52:00.006-05:00

I'm not sure I had heard of Rascal Flatts until Wonder Child became obsessed a few years ago with the Disney movie "Cars," which featured their cover of "Life is a Highway."

More recently, I've begun to enjoy Rascal Flatts' music while listening to a local country music station. I liked enough of their music I downloaded their CD "Unstoppable" from iTunes.

During a recent, not-so-pleasant car trip home, one of the songs - and in particular, its title - struck a chord with me ... "Things that Matter."

Here's what - more appropriately, who - matters most to me:

Wonder Child eagerly pitched in to help my parents build a deck on the back of our house. This six-year-old's ability with a drill might surprise you.

Here, he's helping Papa put the finishing touches on the bench skirting.

What you can't see are the goggles he has on pushed up on his forehead and the tape measure in his apron pocket. (More ties that bind - there's something to those aprons ... at least in our family.)

And, Wonder Child has discovered he is big enough to climb one of the trees in our backyard. (And, more importantly, the tree is big enough to be climbed.)

As I watched him negotiate the branches, I couldn't help but be a little envious ... wished I could have climbed with him. But, I opted for the satisfaction of watching him discover a new facet of his childhood.

Of course, I was watching from the vantage point of our new deck that, yes, he helped build.

Things that matter ...

Excuse me, sir

2009-07-14T20:51:00.006-05:00

There seems to be an ever-growing list of sign errors in town. Today's entry is from a frequent-foibler, "Neighborhood Grocery." This is the same store that earlier in the summer was selling "strawbarries."

Apparently, the person in charge of the marquee was concentrating so hard on correctly spelling cantaloupe (and incorrectly spelling extra, thanks to the manufacturer), he or she couldn't be bothered to double-check "sirloin."

By the way, sirloin is spelled correctly on the other side of the sign. Maybe there's hope.

The Return - Hills and valleys

2009-07-13T20:00:00.006-05:00

If you've been following "Serendipity," you know I set a lofty goal to ride Bike MS in September. That translates to 150 miles over two days.

During my recent struggles to keep it all together, I began seriously questioning my ability to train for such an ambitious ride (let alone actually ride it). It didn't help when one of the people to whom I look for encouragement in everyday life asked me very pointedly, "So, are you still planning to ride the MS ride?" with more than a dash of doubt in his tone.

Ugh! We must remember how crippling our words can be to others. At at time when I was full of self-doubt already and needed support and lifting-up, I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. At that point, I was done - there was no way I was getting on my bike for the MS ride. I was not going to endure the embarrassment I thought I would inflict on myself.

I shared the basics of this experience with another friend, who encouraged me to "ride on" ... even if I chose to ride the one-day Bike MS event rather than the full two days. I also continue to chant to myself the wise advice from a cycling friend: "There is no shame in walking up a hill."

So, perhaps I just need to walk up this hill and get out of the valley of clouds I'm in. Surely there is sunshine at the top.

The Return

2009-07-07T19:42:00.007-05:00

Wow! Did an entire month pass since my last Serendipity post? On one hand, I can believe it. But, on the other hand, perhaps I'm a bit surprised it's only been a month. Seems longer somehow.

Serendipity ... unexpected, fortunate outcomes. Not sure that actually fits this past month. Too much work, too many demands on my patience and time, too many tasks on a relentless "to-do" list.

But, tonight I'm sitting on a quiet front porch among tall pines miles from home. Notebook in my lap, pen in hand (okay - so realize you are reading this a few days later after I've plugged back in at home).

My month-long hiatus occurred for a variety of reasons - not the least of which was the power supply failure on my CPU - and the worst of which was a case of writer's block that would rival the Berlin Wall, if it still stood.

So, here I sit, wrapped in a blanket on an unusually cool July evening, writing by porch light at a wonderful vacation escape I happened upon but by the grace of God.

A pen, a notebook, my iPod and a glass of Riesling ... feeling more at peace than I have in weeks ... again by some grace of God.

How did I get to where I am? A couple of weeks ago, I put out a plea to my Facebook friends for suggestions for a cabin retreat. I wanted some time away - to disappear, so to speak - to write, to reflect, to get my head on straight, to simply just be.

My friends gave numerous recommendations. But, when my chosen location fell through, I had all but resigned myself to spending the final days of my vacation at home.

The beginning of my vacation was two days in Branson with Wonder Child. It was during our drive to Silver Dollar City that I discovered my "spot." A very small, nondescript way-finding sign jumped out at me. I scrambled for a scrap piece of paper and a pen to jot down the name. "I'll check into it later," I thought, trying to negotiate the turn to Silver Dollar City.

After an exhausting day-long excursion to SDC, which began with two trips down the waterboggan, included a Big Jack's original sandwich for lunch and ended with a nostalgic trip through "Fire in the Hole," I tucked in Wonder Child at our hotel and settled in for the evening. I pulled out my iPhone and the scrap of paper and tried to decipher my cryptic note - something resembling "CaRDn Hl CoT."

One look at the Web site and I knew I'd found my place. My refuge. I called the next day and made reservations.

And, Cardinal Hill Cottages was everything I hoped it would be - remote without being impossibly isolated, reasonably priced and impeccably clean. I highly recommend it.

That was July 5. Fast-forward a day. I set off to Tanger Outlet Mall for a few hours of retail therapy. Bought a few things, looked at a lot more. Exercised significant restraint - thankyouverymuch - at both the Fossil and Coach stores ... talking myself out of a purse or wallet I didn't need but desperately wanted.

But, the longer I was there, the worse I felt. The peace and tranquility I'd felt the night before was nowhere to be found.

And, I realized where I most wanted to be was home - my home. Not on some cooked-up personal retreat to the woods to read and write and "find myself." And, it wasn't until I was back at the cottage and packing the car to come home a day early that I started to feel better. That was my sign that I was making the right decision.

I cried off and on as I drove home because I'm fighting a lot of personal demons right now. You may or may not read about them here. But, writing about my struggles isn't what's important. What is important is that I finally realized that I have to meet my challenges head-on if I'm going to conquer them.

The first hurdle was tearing down "the Wall." And, it feels good to be back!

Why I Ride

2009-06-07T17:56:00.004-05:00

Yesterday was the local Tour de Cure cycling event for the American Diabetes Association. For me, it was an early season goal (34 miles) as I work up to the Bike MS event in September (150 miles over two days). If you don't know why I'm riding Bike MS, read my earlier post.

Yesterday's ride had special meaning for me. A little more than 7 years ago, right after I found out I was pregnant with Wonder Child, I learned that I was a Type 2 diabetic.

No surprise really. Heredity is not on my side. Diabetics in my family include my father, my uncle, my grandmother and a great-grandmother ... all on the same side of the family. I suspect as the years go by I won't be the last in my family to have that diagnosis.

I asked my friend Casey if he would like to form a team with me for Tour de Cure. Casey is also training for Bike MS. He recruited two of his friends, Tadd and Jeff; and, together, we were the "Wild Things."

At check in, I received a "Red Rider" jersey to identify me as a diabetic. At the start of our course, I looked around and saw maybe four or five other "Red Riders." Most everyone else was simply a cycling enthusiast. (And, "enthusiast" doesn't do justice to some of these folks - they were serious riders.) But, whatever their motivation, they joined the ride and raised money for our local ADA office to use to support Type 1 and Type 2 diabetics.

I won't lie - it wasn't pretty. In fact, riding 34 miles took every ounce of self-discipline and control I could muster. It was a long three and a half hours. I won't recount the number of times I considered quitting. But, I couldn't - and wouldn't - let myself down.

And, just about the time it got tough (such as one of the half-dozen or so hills I walked up), one of those serious riders would buzz by and say, "Go Red!" or "Hang in there, Red!" Some would slow long enough to ask if I was okay or needed help. It gave me the push I needed to keep going. (Tadd and Casey's chant for the course was "Respect Red" - a double entendre of our city's traffic light campaign.)

I had my iPhone in my jersey pocket so I could have my "Tunes for the Ride" playlist in my ear. At the two rest stops, I updated my Facebook status, and gave a final update when I finished. I had several notifications of e-mails, which turned out to be Facebook friends commenting on my status with words of encouragement. I cannot put into words how uplifting that was.

So, to my Wild Things teammates, all the other rides on the course yesterday and my Facebook cheering section, my deepest, sincerest, heart-felt gratitude for keeping me going and supporting those who are working to help others like me who live everyday with diabetes.

In the end, Tadd and Casey (who had hung back with me through most of the course) let me ride ahead of them and cheered me on through the finish line. Thanks, guys, for that one moment to shine.

Finished!

2009-06-02T21:01:00.012-05:00

Yes, I'm done. I've devoured (no pun intended) the four books of the much-heralded "Twilight" series.

If you had asked me a few months ago if I had any intention of reading these books, my answer would have been an unhesitating, resounding, "No!"

But, changing my mind is my prerogative, thankyouverymuch.

A coworker encouraged me, loaned me the first book. And, then, the second and third - at the same time, since I admitted I had trouble putting the books down. The fourth, on loan, soon followed.

And, in the end, in the matter of a few short weeks, I've read all four. Helps with my New Year's resolution, don't you agree?

But, these books are more than meets the eye. Am I, a 40-year-old single mother, the primary audience for this series. Nope. Is the writing the best I've ever read. Probably not. Should I be all that engaged by a preteen vampire romance novel? Of course not.

But, I read the books, and I was engaged. Stephanie Meyer guided my imagination with great character development and several unanticipated twists and turns.

Even more importantly, though, for me - I see the power in this series to encourage teens and preteens (and now adults of all ages, too) to pick up a book and READ! I know - foreign concept, isn't it? (And, if you're like me, I swore off the movie until I had read all four books in the series so as to not taint my personal imagery.)

This is not unlike what J.K. Rowling did several years ago with the "Harry Potter" series. Get kids away from the computer, TV and video games - and get them reading. And, "Twilight" is an immediate conversation topic that spans ages. I was with a group of seasonal staff from the park last weekend; one mention of "Twilight" and nearly everyone in the room was part of the conversation.

Reading is a very powerful skill. That one single ability opens the world to you, regardless of who you are, where you were raised, what you have (or don't have) and more.

For me and this particular coworker, we've discovered a common passion for literature. We are sharing our "current" reads and our favorites from the past, expanding each others' "to read" lists.

That's what I like most about the "Twilight" series. And, yes, I now own it and plan to reread it soon.

Note: One personal irony - I finished the series on June 2 ... exactly six years to the day after Stephanie Meyer began writing the series. (Read it for yourself!)

The nose knows

2009-05-28T20:23:00.005-05:00

Last week, while riding through southeast Springfield on the Galloway trail, I smelled it. I inhaled deeply - filling my lungs to capacity with its sweet fragrance.Ahhh ... honeysuckle.

For me, the scent is intoxicating. I can lose myself in it.

I know it is May at work by the perfume of the honeysuckle along our boardwalk. Unbeknownst to me one day, a coworker (who knows my love of honeysuckle) left a few springs of it in water at my desk.

Over the past two weeks, I have regularly walked the boardwalk specifically to refresh the honeysuckle "bouquet" for my desk. The best treat is when it blooms again in the fall, and I can relive the sensory experience.

Ahhh ... honeysuckle ...

What would you do if you met God?

2009-05-18T20:22:00.004-05:00

I'm well ahead of my New Year's resolution to read a book a month in 2009. I've read seven books, and it isn't the end of May. One of my most recent reads was "The Shack" by William P. Young.

First of all, let me say there was a time in college when my faith was not particularly strong. I could find any number of reasons to not go to church. I think this is a common experience, especially for young adults.

As I've matured, my faith has gone through a number of transitions. The glow of thanksgiving for the blessing of love. The wonder and awe when my son was born. The struggle to hold on and find peace when my world fell apart.

Today, I'm more faithful than I've ever been, and I still have so far to go in my relationship with God.

I think that's why "The Shack" struck such a chord with me. My friend Mary loaned me her copy, encouraging me to read it. When I returned the book to her, the corners were a bit more tattered than in the beginning because I carried this book with me everywhere. I read it whenever, wherever I could - even in little snip-its waiting in traffic at red lights.

"The Shack" is one man's (Mack) journey to discover a meaningful relationship with God after his world is shattered. And, Mack meets God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit in the shack that holds a much darker memory for him. If you are interested, you can check out more at the book's Web site.

When I finished the book, I couldn't help but tell most everyone I interacted with for the next few days about it. Mostly I said, "If you are a believer, you should read this book." It has no specific religious teaching beyond basic Christianity. It isn't preachy.

But, it certainly forces you to explore your concept of and relationship with the Trinity ... right along with Mack.

I purchased my own copy of "The Shack" and another to pass along to a friend. I suspect this is a book I will read every few years. And, each time, it will mean something a little different to me.

Feeding my pet peave

2009-05-05T20:52:00.009-05:00

I readily admit it. I'm a grammar snob. And, I notice errors - especially signs in public places. I've told you this here, here and here.

My close friends and co-workers know me too well, and they often feed my need to hold onto the basic foundations of language that seem "optional" these days. Dani sent me a link yesterday about the poor, unappreciated apostrophe.

Today, I was headed downtown to pick up Wonder Child from school. I nearly stopped in the middle of the intersection when I saw this ...

Oh, the irony.

And, Wonder Child didn't wonder too much (at least aloud) when I suddenly whipped into a church parking lot, dug for my camera and snapped a picture of a sign on our return trip to my office.

One day, he will know ... and understand.

A great recipe from Ms. Molly

2009-04-29T20:47:00.002-05:00

A few days ago, I received an e-mail from Craig with the subject line "A Great Recipe for a Great Day - Thanks Ms. Molly."

I don't know who Molly is ... another of Craig's friends, I presume. And, I'm guessing she's either a thoughtful writer or a thoughtful friend who passed this along to someone she thought would find meaning in it. Thankfully, Craig passed it along to me.

Many of the "ingredients" were things I needed to hear that day. So, I thought I'd pass along this great recipe here.

Thanks, Ms. Molly! (whoever you are!)

Take a 10 to 30-minute walk every day. And while you walk, smile. It is the ultimate anti-depressant.
Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day. Talk to God about what is going on in your life. Buy a lock if you have to. (A lock for the door, I suppose?)
When you wake up in the morning complete the following statement: "My purpose is to __________ today. I am thankful for_____________."
Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.
Drink green tea and plenty of water. Eat blueberries, wild Alaskan salmon, broccoli, almonds and walnuts.
Try to make at least three people smile each day.
Don't waste your precious energy on gossip, energy vampires, issues of the past, negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.
Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a college kid with a maxed out charge card.
Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
You are not so important that you have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.
Don't compare your life to others. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
Frame every so-called disaster with these words: "In five years, will this matter?"
Forgive everyone for everything.
What other people think of you is none of your business.
God heals everything - but you have to ask Him.
However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch!
Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
Each night before you go to bed complete the following statements: "I am thankful for __________. Today I accomplished _________."
Remember that you are too blessed to be stressed.
When you are feeling down, start listing your many blessings. You'll be smiling before you know it.

I'm "knot" tired

2009-04-23T21:02:00.003-05:00

"What day is it?" I've found myself asking more than once this week. My own feeble reality check. Time flies when you don't have a moment's peace. And, my days are blending into the next.

But, I finally identified what ails me. I'm knot tired.

That's right. The knot that has staked out its territory from my left shoulder blade up my neck has got to go.

Don't worry - I've already called the exterminator ... a.k.a., my very favorite massage therapist (Emilee) at my very favorite spa. Now, I just have to keep it all together until my appointment.

But, I can see it ... The light at the end of my tunnel is a gently flickering candle and some seriously delicious aromatherapy.

What's on your shelf?

2009-04-21T20:15:00.006-05:00

I'm a little panicked tonight because I can't find a book on my book shelf. I'm looking for my copy of "The Brand Gap" by Marty Neumeier. I pray that it's at work in the disaster zone most people refer to as my office. I need it tomorrow for a presentation I'm giving for GO LEAD.

While I was looking for it, I was a struck by the eclectic mix of books in the bookcase:

My Bible I received in the mid-1970s.
"The Te of Piglet"
Thoreau's "Walden"
Malcolm Gladwell's "Blink" and "The Tipping Point"
A frequently opened copy of "The Poetry of Robert Frost"
A full shelf of random children's literature
The complete stories of Beatrix Potter and A.A. Milne
The first six books in the Harry Potter series
Deborah Tannen's "You Just Don't Understand," which I haven't touched since grad school but wouldn't dare give away.

This is just a sampling of the five-shelf case. There are two nearly full bookcases in the basement. And, you don't have to walk far in my house to find a book on a table. I'm currently halfway through two different fiction books. (I'm happy to report I'm on track - and perhaps a little ahead of my goal - to read a book a month for pleasure.)

I only wish I could say I've read a majority of the books on my shelves. Sadly, I have good intentions but poor diligence in reading.

I'm not sure which is the bigger weakness for me - shoes or books. I love books. I love the feel of a book in my hands, its escape for my imagination, the knowledge it possesses ... I love everything about books. I have to pace myself when I go to a bookstore or a book fair because I love books so much.

Wonder Child has his own bookcase in his bedroom that's nearly overflowing with books. Some I still read to him. Many that he can read on his own. I hope I'm passing along my passion for the written word and books to him.

If only I had an in-home librarian who could help me find "The Brand Gap."

A good morning chuckle

2009-04-15T08:21:00.004-05:00

"This isn't a rechargeable battery," he said, disapprovingly.

"No, it isn't," I replied, trying not to sound defensive. "I needed a second battery to make the charger work. So, I put that one in so you'd have your MP3 player back."

"Well, now I can take back out to the car," he quipped.

I sighed and shook it off. I didn't want to start my day having to defend a slightly less-green decision to a six-year-old.

Fast-forward about 10 minutes to the point we're backing out of the garage, heading to school.

"I CAN'T GET THE VOLUME TO WORK!" he howled.

I stopped the car, turned to look at him, grinned and said, "You might try putting on the headphones."

Luckily, he found his blunder as funny as I did. We both laughed heartily!

"Ahh ... another 'Motherhood Mountain,'" I thought to myself. The ability to laugh at yourself is healthy.

A good lesson for Wonder Child, and a great reminder for myself.

If ...

2009-04-14T21:14:00.003-05:00

I'm confident Shannah won't mind that I "borrowed" (okay, stole) an idea from her blog for this post. After all, that's what friends are for, right? And, I tweaked it a little.

If I were independently wealthy, I'd probably still work ... and give a ton of money to charity.

If I had my choice of vacation destinations, I would pick Kenya ... or Maine ... or both. (Remember, I'm independently wealthy, too!)

If I were still a university student, I might consider becoming a lawyer instead of going into public relations.

If I were still in high school, I'd probably still be a nerd.

But, truth is, I'm grown-up, a single mother working in a profession I enjoy ... So, tomorrow I will come back to reality, take Wonder Child to school, go to work and try desperately to make a difference in the world ... in a positive way.

Tripping over yourself

2009-04-10T21:57:00.005-05:00

Do you ever in your own way? The choices, decisions and diversions in life can send you tumbling like a lanky teenager. Out of proportion, out of sync, out of bounds.

Sometimes we lose our way. Not for any particular reason ... like the tide washes away footprints in the sand. You know you got where you are, but looking back, you can't figure out how.

So you stop, take a breath, get your feet under you and take life as it comes ... always moving forward ... one step at a time.

Peanut ... peanut butter ... and jelly!

2009-04-02T18:10:00.006-05:00

April 2 - a little-known holiday to the nation as a whole. But, for attentive observers (and you know who you are), it is a day deserving of the greatest festivities.

Yes, it is National Peanut Butter and Jelly Day. A random, yet important, celebration in the list of my annual events.

I grew up thinking the only way to eat an apple was to cut it in half, core it and fill the resulting hole with peanut butter. (If no one was looking, I could get enough peanut butter to spread across the top, too!) There's a cute little story that floats through my family regarding my grandfather's inclusion of peanut butter on a hamburger. (We won't mention what he called it - this is, after all, a family show!)

I knew Shannah and I were surely kindred spirits at the point we realized we shared several very important perspectives on the composition peanut butter and jelly sandwiches:

It is a borderline sacrilege to use anything but grape jelly.
Chunky may be okay for cooking, but sandwiches require creamy.
There is a right way and a wrong way to make a PB&J.

How so, you might ask? Well ... peanut butter is spread from edge to edge on both pieces of bread (preferably white bread). The jelly does not touch the edge of the bread - allowing the peanut butter to form a seal around the sandwich, thereby reducing instances of jelly "ooze."

A few others things about peanut butter (in my book, jelly is optional):

I only buy Peter Pan. The recall a couple of years ago was a difficult time in my life. You may disagree with my brand of choice - that is a personal preference.
There is something magical about the creaminess of a freshly opened jar of peanut butter. Stay back - that's my territory!
Peanut butter tastes best when eaten with a spoon directly out of the jar.

So, there you have it. A new holiday to add to you calendar. It doesn't require any special purchases (unless you have no peanut butter and jelly in your pantry). You can celebrate by yourself or in a group.

And, yes - Wonder Child and I had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner tonight.

"Rights" of spring

2009-04-01T21:03:00.004-05:00

I can't believe it's been two weeks since I've posted. But, then again, thinking back over the past 14 days (and, honestly, beyond that), perhaps I can.

It's been a mad, mad mix of stress, appointments, family/work time conflicts, rushing here/rushing there. Today was sort of the pinnacle, and I'm glad it has passed.

I was traveling on business last week. A couple days before I left, I hurriedly snipped a large bouquet of daffodils from my backyard garden. The gigantic blooms are amazingly fragrant. And, there are so many flowers in this one location, it is a veritable sea of yellow. I delighted in the perfume; the splash of yellow heralded spring's coming.

You have to love living in the Midwest. Certain aspects make life here particularly enjoyable. For instance, we clearly have four seasons that other parts of the country do not. And, sometimes, we revel in the seasons more than once. "Indian Summer" is a perfect example.

Last week, we experienced all four seasons in a matter of days. (Insert sigh here.) Warm and sunny. Warmer and breezy. Gray and rainy. And, just when we thought it couldn't get any better ... We ended the week with winter's cold and snow. Yes, that's correct - snow. I wonder if there's an antonym for Indian Summer.

Somehow I knew my daffodils were done for before I could fully enjoy them. Below-freezing temperatures are rarely kind to delicate blooms.

How pleasantly surprised I was to find my daffodils rebounded nicely from the cold rain and freezing temperatures.

It was my "right" of spring.

What I've learned from the animals

2009-03-17T11:38:00.008-05:00

I've loved learning about animals all my life. And, for the past 14-plus years, I've worked at a zoo ... LOTS of animals. I traveled to East Africa on safari ... immersed in wildlife. What an experience.

Over the years, I've learned a thing or two by observing animals:

The little guys always work harder than the big guys (think hummingbird vs bald eagle here).

Travel in pairs (like birds). You never know when you'll need someone to lean on.

The exception to the "pairs" logic? Once in awhile, it's perfectly acceptable to be the Queen Bee.

A nap with the sunshine on your belly is never a bad idea (Thank you, cats!).

When someone is beating his chest, more often than not, he's all show.

If you don't have the perfect situation, make do with what you've got.

In the pack, unless you're leading, the view's always about the same (yes, I know - it's not original). However, sometimes when you break ranks, you can blaze amazing new trails!

Often, it takes a 2x4 to the forehead to knock some sense into someone. (It worked for my dad and a very stubborn cow named "Judy" when I was a kid.)

Once in awhile, you'll chase the "prey" of your dreams only to ended up winded and empty-handed in the end.

Food, water and shelter are essential ... The rest is negotiable.

And, especially for my single-female friends ... sometimes the boys look pretty, but they are perfectly happy leaving all the work to you.

What have you learned from the animals?

The kiss

2009-03-12T20:18:00.007-05:00

Tonight, as I tucked Wonder Child into bed, he held my hand - palm toward him - brought it to his lips and kissed it. He folded my fingers and pressed my hand to my heart. All without saying a word.

It's one of our things ... Our way of saying, "You're always in my heart, no matter if we're apart."

I, in turn, kissed his palm, folded his fingers and pressed his hand to his heart.

Then he said, "I can hear it here (pointing to his forehead) and here (pointing to his heart). Did you hear it, too?"

I did.

"It's like we're connected," he said, "here and here (my forehead, his forehead) and here and here (my heart and his heart)."

"I want to try something," he said, reaching for the gold cross hanging around my neck. He kissed it and pressed it to my heart. He softly whispered, "Jesus loves you."

Then he kissed the cross and pulled me closer so he could touch it to his heart. He closed his eyes. "I heard it, too!"

I know in a few years, moments like these will be fewer and farther between. And, I'm reminded of Luke 2:19 ... Mary treasured all these things and reflected on them in her heart.

The cross? A treasure I am rarely without. It was my mother's, and I have her high school graduation picture from the 1950s in which she wore it. How she came to have it, I don't know. But, it is near my heart and reminds me of her.

If you've never read "The Kissing Hand" by Audrey Penn, to your child, you should. It's not a bad story to read to yourself.

The world is a scary place. But, knowing in your heart that you are loved can help you conquer most any obstacle. And, there's no love more sacred and redeeming than the love between a child and parent ... especially when that "parent" is God.

The "looking glass"

2009-03-06T16:06:00.008-06:00

I can tell I've been busier than usual these past few weeks. I'm not readily inspired to write.

Busy days at work lead into evening after evening scheduled with an activity. The weekdays become weekends with little time to stop and breathe. I e-mailed a friend one day that I was suffering a self-induced panic attack from the sheer volume of items on my "to-do" list.

But, once in awhile, something comes along and puts everything into perspective. Craig e-mails almost daily with Ralph Marston's daily inspirational message. Yesterday's was The Opportunity to Respond.

You have the opportunity to respond to whatever

happens in your world.

And the way you respond determines

the quality of your life.

What matters most is not what happens to you.

What matters most is the way you respond.

When I first read this, I lingered on "the way you respond."

A great Lenten lesson. Look for blessings and choose to respond in ways that further my personal mission. In today's world it is very easy to get sucked into a "glass is half-empty" mentality.

My new goal? To choose the half-full glass and aim for "runneth over."

The clock is ticking ...

2009-03-03T20:50:00.018-06:00

Jennifer tipped me off to a blogger contest on Barking Mad. Create a post with links to my favorite five or 10 posts and then leave a comment before 10 p.m. tomorrow on Barking Mad linking back here ... all for a chance to win a $250 Target gift card. (See Audrey's contest post for a few other details if you're interested in joining in the fun.)

Well, blogging is a little like mothering - somehow it feels a little "wrong" to pick favorites. So, instead of thinking of my posts as something born of my soul, I chose to think of them as flowers in the garden ... all beautiful ... some just smell better than others.

My "blog bouquet" includes

Taking inventory of your life

2009-03-03T20:30:00.003-06:00

If you know me at all, you know I don't watch a lot of television. Mostly because I don't have time. And, because I don't often find anything interesting to watch.

Once in awhile, though, when I'm home during the day, I'll turn on the TV. Watching some of the daytime "reality" talk shows reminds me of seeing a train wreck. You know you shouldn't look, but you're so astonished and engrossed that you can't pull yourself away.

So goes Dr. Phil for me. Perhaps he helps a lot of people, but his brand of therapy is something akin to a "2x4" of common sense to the back of the head. However, on February 16, I was struck by something he said.

The topic of the show was a 14-year-old girl's desire to dress suggestively and how her parents both enabled her and were unable to positively influence her. It wasn't the show topic that engaged me. It was something Dr. Phil said he asks all of this guests to do.

To better understand his guests, he asks them to write down "their 10 most defining moments in life, their seven most critical choices and their five most pivotal people."

That struck me as an amazing way to take inventory of your life - where you've been, where you are now and how you got here, and where you're going and how you'll get there.

This is an inventory I plan to do. Sorry - it's probably way too personal to post here. So, do your own.

Grounded

2009-02-25T21:30:00.004-06:00

At Ash Wednesday Mass tonight, a friend asked me how I was. The middle of the Cathedral didn't seem like the place to lie. And, quite honestly, I couldn't have mustered a convincing story if I'd wanted to.

So, I answered matter-of-factly, "I've been near tears for the past two days because I feel so overwhelmed with stress." There - I said it. The words I dared not utter to myself this week for fear I would drown in the abyss of self-pity.

After Mass and a quick dinner with my parents before coming home, Wonder Child and I dove head-long into his bedtime routine. For me, it was something resembling normalcy.

I don't remember the last time I read a story to him a bedtime in his bedroom (I know I havebut it felt unusual). Or, the last time I stretched out under the covers to snuggle with him. Lately, it's been pat his back or belly for a few minutes, then dash off to the other room to dive into housework, school work or - if I'm lucky - my own bed out of sheer exhaustion.

Not tonight. I stretched out. He snuggled up next to me. I wrapped my arms around him. Not a word was said between us, but in just a few minutes, his rhythmic breathing told me he was fast asleep.

And, I felt myself spiraling farther away from the stress of these past couple of weeks. Little by little my mind slowed from its numbing pace. When I awoke more than an hour later - less anxious than I've been in I don't know how long - I sighed and realized I should have done this sooner.

How could I have forgotten the peace found in the slumber of a child?

A jug of wine, a loaf of bread ...

2009-02-23T22:28:00.017-06:00

Last night was the annual "Wine Walk" in downtown Springfield, benefiting St. Agnes and St. Joseph Catholic Elementary Schools. It wasn't exactly a "jug" of wine. More like a swish of wine. The food was delicious. The fellowship? Priceless. All in the spirit of supporting the schools that educate our children.

We laughed and noshed and laughed some more. What do you mean they're almost out of shrimp at St. Michael's? Let's go!

Jacquie and I are kindred spirits in many ways. And, no, we don't go to the same hairdresser. She's always quick to laugh at my faux pas in accepting her Facebook "friend" request.

Ginette and Don's oldest son is Wonder Child's best friend. Honestly, to say they are best friends doesn't begin to describe these two peas-in-a-pod. It's difficult to say who has more influence over the other. But, the best part is, that at the tender age of 6, they have found a friend from whom they are nearly inseparable.

Seriously, Adam ... Live it up; try something other than Chianti. Okay, maybe not ... I give up. And, I caught Don dipping bread in his wine ... a fitting tribute to the famous verse, don't you think?

By the way, did you ever wonder about the origin of "A jug of wine ..."? (Okay, maybe not. But, I have.) The verse is from The Rubaiyat by an 11th century Persian mathematician/astronomer, Omar Khayyam (1048-1122).

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,

A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou

Beside me singing in the Wilderness—

O, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

Audacious

2009-02-21T21:44:00.003-06:00

That's what I want to be.

Not in the insolent, contemptuous way. More along the lines of original. Bold. Daring. I used to be all those, and I can be again.

In "Hope Floats," Justin (Harry Connick, Jr.) reminds Birdie (Sandra Bullock) that she was once "audacious," and, despite all she's been through, he still sees it in her. Like Birdie, I've taken it on the chin a few times. And, I got sucked into believing the bad stuff. For sometime now, I've forgotten who I once was.

Thankfully, I've been reminded of that "lost side" of myself.

And, my pledge to myself is "I can be ... and will be, again ... audacious."

Funny Valentine, Sweet Valentine

2009-02-14T08:53:00.003-06:00

I close my eyes and see you in my heart, Valentine. Your eyes sparkle like an emerald sea. Your hair ruffles in a gentle breeze. Your laughter echoes in my thoughts.

I can feel your heart beating as we sit by the fire. Sighing with contentment, I melt into you as you wrap your arms around me … feeling protected and safe.

You know that my favorite spring flower is the daffodil ... that I'd almost rather die than live without peanut butter ... that sometimes a kiss on the cheek or a hand on my back is all I need to keep me going ... that I love holding hands ... that I love the sound of rain, the scent of honeysuckle, the feel of a blanket fresh from the dryer, the taste of dark chocolate and the sight of your smile. And, that there's nowhere I'd rather be than with you.

Sometimes, I think you know me better than I know myself. And, even though you don't exist in the here and now, I know some how, some way, you are out there, dreaming of me, too.

Valentine's Day is every day.

2009-02-12T21:29:00.004-06:00

I moaned to a coworker today, "It really stinks to be single around Valentine's Day."

"It wasn't much better when I was married," she mused.

I remember a college English professor telling us love and hate are simply opposite ends of the spectrum. With all due respect, Dr. Bixler, I disagree.

I believe the opposite of love is apathy.

And, while I secretly yearn for someone to send me flowers and shower me with affection, I think more often than not Valentine's Day is a lot of fluff and very little substance.

Instead, we should speak and show our love and affection for those around us every day of our lives. Here's to Valentine's Day every day!

The Middle Place

2009-02-07T11:09:00.005-06:00

On my quest to read a book a month in 2009, I'm ahead of schedule. I finished Kelly Corrigan's "The Middle Place" this week while on a business trip to West Virginia. I borrowed from our local library but plan to buy it for my personal collection. It is a "must read" for any woman who finds herself in the "middle place."

The middle place is Kelly's name for that time you are both a child and parent. It's the place in which I find myself. I have a wonderful relationship with my parents, both of whom are in their 70s. "Wonder Child" is 6.

Kelly's passion for story-telling drew me in like few books have. I imagined myself in her shoes: parent ... child ... love ... friends ... faith ... cancer ... agony ... victory.

Her writing is personal, emotional and poignant. I didn't simple read this book - I became absorbed in it.

Happy birthday, Mom!

2009-01-31T20:39:00.010-06:00

January is a busy birthday month in my family. Brother's birthday is the 19th, and Daddy's birthday is the 20th.

Mom's birthday is today. A special day for a special lady. Wonder Child calls her "Gammie."

And, I call her ... almost every day.

It's the first thing I do after dropping off Wonder Child at school. While I'm driving to work, I'm dialing the number. My father refers to it as her wake-up call, although I rarely catch her sleeping late.

Mom retired in 2003 from St. John's after 40 years of nursing right before I went back to work from maternity leave. For the next three and a half years, her part-time job (sometimes full-time) was taking care of Wonder Child during the day. To this day, she still helps by picking him up at school a couple days a week, taking him to school when I have an early-morning TV interview and making sure he gets dinner if I have a late meeting. Gammie and Wonder Child have a wonderful relationship. And, for that, I'm so thankful.

My mother is grace, faith and love personified. I've heard her say more than once that she probably could have done better as a mother. I'm not sure how. She and my father have been married for more than 50 years. They work together and share activities. She loves her children completely and unconditionally. She sacrificed much for us when we were kids. She taught us to be independent thinkers (sometimes, I believe, much to her chagrin). She celebrated our talents and successes and felt the pain of our failures.

What more could a child ask for in a mother?

And, since I've become a mother, she's always been there when I had a question or needed a shoulder. She is my strength, and I love her dearly. She's been by my side walking with me through good times and bad ... and never once wavered in her devotion.

Our daily phone call is as much about my needing to hear her voice and glean a little strength to start my day as it is my fulfilling a heart-felt duty as a daughter to check up on her (and Daddy, too!).

Thank you, Mom, for all you've done, for all you do. I hope you know it means the world to me. Happy birthday. I love you.

Leap of faith

2009-01-29T20:56:00.005-06:00

Tomorrow’s promise is another day to begin anew, forge ahead or bring to conclusion. All too often, though, what we fear most is the leap of faith it takes to meet our challenges head-on.

What chasm are you crossing? A parenting conundrum. A perplexing relationship. A tedious project. Running up a mountain. Crossing a raging river. Stopping long enough to take in the world around you.

We control our focus. Positive or negative. Productive or floundering. Vow to tighten the laces, take a deep breath and go for it.

His hand will be there to guide your leap of faith.

A civics lesson

2009-01-27T20:58:00.010-06:00

It's only Tuesday, and in two short (long?) days this week I've learned more than I ever remember learning in high school civics class.

Yes, that's right. I reported to the county courthouse for jury duty yesterday. And, as luck would have it, I was selected to be among the 12 peers to hear testimony.

The trial wasn't complicated. Only three witnesses testified. In short, a man, a woman, bruises, carpet burns, calls to 9-1-1, the police officer, photos of injuries. The charge? Domestic assault in the second degree. The jury was only given brief, vague details of a couple of interesting turns of events in the last 24 hours.

The trial was a test for me to maintain an open mind until I heard from all witnesses and listened to the closing arguments by the prosecuting and defense attorneys. In the jury deliberation room, my peers and I thoroughly discussed the evidence presented and talked about what we did and didn't know (careful to not make assumptions). We each reviewed photographs - the only evidence available to us outside of testimony. In the end, it was a unanimous verdict.

What I "re-learned" from this experience is America is a great country with a justice system that has rules everyone must follow for it to work; that the advocates, attorneys and judges work hard to protect the innocent; and that jurors are thoughtful and serious about their duties.

Most people I know grouse about receiving a jury summons. I did ... at first. Yes, it is inconvenient. Yes, it's a game of hurry-up-and-wait. Yes, it can be frustrating (especially on days like today - snow/sleet/ice on the roads, schools out, etc.).

I was impressed by how gracious the judge was. He thanked us for our time and effort numerous times, especially given the delays we experienced and the treacherous driving conditions we faced getting to and from the courthouse.

Our justice system works because of the efforts of the people - all of the people. I'm proud to have participated in the process, and I understand more about the justice system because I saw it in action.

The change I want to see

2009-01-20T20:10:00.005-06:00

Or, more appropriately, the change I want to BE...

You might have read recently about my affinity for Gandhi's quote.

And, after a grueling political season in which "change" was a word beat into the ground, I'm thankful that Inauguration Day is over. (Well, almost over. The media hasn't finished rehashing, and at the time I'm writing this the "Neighborhood Ball" is in full swing.)

Tomorrow morning, we'll all get up and go about our days as Americans. The economy will still be in a recession. People will still be losing jobs and homes. The stock market and oil prices will go up and down like yo-yos.

But, in many ways, tomorrow is a new day, and regardless of your political leanings, change is the new order of business. Let's say "good-bye" to the days of campaign rhetoric and "hello" to action.

The time is now for each of us to change. It isn't one man's responsibility to single-handed lead us out of darkness. We need to light our own paths.

I have one reminder for Mr. Obama, though: I'm from Missouri, and you'll have to "Show Me" you're the man for the job. Be the leader you said you would be. Keep your promises to make this a better country for everyone.

God bless America.

A lesson some adults need to learn

2009-01-16T21:08:00.003-06:00

Sometimes kids understand more than we give them credit for. This video has been viewed more than 9 million times on YouTube since it was first posted in November 2007. In about two minutes, 13-year-old Logan teaches us more about faith in God than some people learn in a lifetime of Sunday school classes.

Watch it now. Then, watch it with your kids. And, then pass it on.

Why ask "why"?

2009-01-15T20:32:00.010-06:00

Without hesitating, my mother will tell you I was a "why" child. I had a compulsion to know the answers to the "whys" of my world. I think it drove her a little batty at times (okay ... maybe a LOT batty). Sorry, Mom.

And, I'm STILL a "why" person. The topics don't get any easier, and the answers aren't always forthcoming. That's not particularly satisfying for me.

As I drove around town today, I built quite a list of "why" questions. I'll admit the questions are rather random:

Why is changing the empty toilet paper roll such a foreign concept for some people?
Why do gas prices go up by 10 or 15 cents but come down in increments of two to three cents?
Why do I always pick the windiest day of the week to take shredded paper to the recycling center?
Why are other drivers so unbelievably unaware and unyielding to emergency vehicles running with lights and sirens?
Why does baking bread smell so good?

If you are wondering, Wonder Child is not a "why" child, at least not to the extent I was (okay ... am). Instead, he's a "what if" child. Talk about exasperating! There are usually no good or vaguely reasonable answers to his hypothetical questions.

After I picked him up from school today, he asked four ... yes, F-O-U-R, "what if" questions ... in rapid succession in less than a city block! It's like standing in front of a firing squad ... or the freaky magician who's throwing knives at the lovely lady fastened to the spinning wheel. There was no time to think of a response before the next question came.

I suppose it's just another case of "payin' for my raisin's." (Stop grinning, Mom!)

I am the "anti" bag lady

2009-01-13T20:21:00.009-06:00

Craig e-mailed a quote today. I have to say it is one of my favorites:

You must be the change you want to see in the world.
~Mahatma Gandhi

The irony in receiving this today is it fit my mood and my thoughts perfectly. It's not enough to grumble about how things should be. You have to act to create change.

Barack Obama's inauguration is one week from today. Whether or not you voted for him (hopefully, you at least voted!), you have to admit we're in for change in America. The economic downturn has changed how many (maybe most) of us face our personal finances.

But, you ask, what kind of impact can I have as an individual? How do I make "change" happen?

Maybe you drive the speed limit and resist running red lights.

Maybe you turn off the water while brushing your teeth (and save a few gallons of water in the process).

Maybe you change your speech habits to words that are a little more kind (and a little less snarky).

Maybe you change your shopping habits and start using reusable bags.

Yes, I am the self-proclaimed anti-(plastic)bag lady. I don't remember exactly when I began using reusable bags for most all of my shopping. At least a year ago ... maybe longer. I've endured cross-eyed looks, heavy sighs and other expressions of annoyance from cashiers. But, I'm glad I made the change.

I stumbled across a Web site and give-away based on the Green Apple Bag. I'm not too proud to admit I'm hoping I receive the free bag. I'll also readily admit that $19 for a bag is a little steep. But, on the other hand, it's a small price to pay when you think about the consequences of using plastic bags.

Maybe you've already made your resolutions (I have). But, maybe there's still time to make one more (I did).

Join my "anti-(plastic)bag" crusade. The change we'll make comes from individuals acting responsibly.

Chances are you resolved to do something health-related for yourself (and the one body you have).

We have one world. Let's all do something "healthy" for Earth.

P.S. I also love ReusableBags.com ... especially the produce bags.

School supplies

2009-01-09T19:36:00.006-06:00

Monday is the first day of the spring semester at Missouri State University. At 6:30 p.m., in Craig Hall Room 336, 13 students and one instructor will convene for the first of 16 classes of COM 509: Crisis Communications.

I started my prep as the instructor by revising the syllabus and checking that I have everything I need for class Monday. I visited the department office today to pick up the students' copies of the syllabus. Normally, I wouldn't have made a special trip to campus, but I'll get to the "why" a little later.

I haven't been in Room 336 since May 2008, and since then, the room has taken on a bit of a new look. It's now a "smart" classroom. (That's good, I guess - I'd hate to teach in a "dumb" one.) It has a console with a computer, DVD player, Internet connection, projector and brand-new screen.

Doesn't sound particularly Earth-shattering. But, consider this. I've taught two other semesters in this classroom, rolling the computer/projector cart from the office to the classroom and rolling it back at the end of the night. All the while, I taught a senior-level communications course without the benefit of a DVD player or Internet connection in my classroom.

This "smart" room looks like Xanadu to me!

All that's left for me to do is the final check of school supplies, like any conscientious teacher:

Textbooks? Check, check.

AP Stylebook? Check.

Introductory PowerPoint presentation? Check.

Syllabus? Check.

White-board markers? Check.

Enrollment sheet? Check.

Keys? Uh...

Parking permit? Hmm...

Yes, that's right. I have no keys, and my parking permit hasn't been processed yet. My "smart" classroom is supposed to stay locked when not in use, and the department office (where my faculty mailbox is) is locked at 5 p.m. (necessitating my trip to campus today).

And, apparently, I don't need a parking permit during the first week of classes. The Parking Administration staff person I spoke to said I'm not an "active" faculty member in the computer system. She couldn't answer my question: "Since I start teaching Monday night, when do you think I'll be considered 'active'?"

Never fear, though. Karen to the rescue!

Karen is the department secretary for Communications. When I saw her today, Karen let me know how to get my classroom unlocked Monday evening and reassured me the parking permit and keys are in the works.

I have complete faith in Karen. In the three semesters I've taught as per course faculty, she's never, ever let me down ... no matter what I asked of her.

In reality, the University wheel has two weeks to turn for me. Although the semester starts Monday the 12th, I won't teach again until the 26th ... thanks to the Martin Luther King, Jr., holiday.

I'll let you know how everything goes.

Goodnight, my friends, for 11 months

2009-01-04T18:21:00.007-06:00

No, I'm not going anywhere.

I finished "un-decorating" our home from the Christmas holiday. Wonder Child helped a little, in between playing with LEGOs and Hot Wheels.

As I picked up each decoration, I remembered when I made it or who gave it to me or where I bought it. The memories of Christmases past flooded back.

There was something comforting for me, almost a mother-like experience, in packing away the decorations. I wrapped each knickknack, figurine and trinket in tissue paper; laid them carefully in the storage tubs; and stacked the tubs away in the basement until December.

Not unlike tucking in a child for a long nap.

Check that ... one more resolution

2009-01-02T21:23:00.008-06:00

I spent the better part of this evening completely absorbed by Nicholas Sparks' "The Notebook." It's the first leisure reading I've done in some time, and I've read more than half of the book today alone.

Not only did I enjoy reading a wonderful story (a complete understatement), but also I remembered how much I truly enjoy reading good writing. (Note the emphasis on good.)

So, for someone who doesn't typically make resolutions, I now amend my three resolutions for 2009 to include a fourth:

I will read at least one book for pleasure each month.

Stay tuned for the book list ... and send me your suggestions!

Happy New Year

2009-01-01T20:48:00.008-06:00

I'm not one to make resolutions usually. But, this year, I have some specific goals I would like to accomplish. I wonder if posting my 2009 goals as resolutions here will add an element of accountability for me.

First, and foremost, I will expand prayer time in my life. Quiet contemplation of God's will, the Rosary. Whatever form it may take, I know I need this.

I want to ride BIKE MS: Ozarks in September. Let me try that again - I WILL ride BIKE MS: Ozarks. Three people in my world suffer the debilitating effects of multiple sclerosis. Theoretically, training for this will also fulfill my continued desire for a healthier body and lifestyle. (And, that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right?)

I will get back on track with my accreditation studies through Public Relations Society of America. I'm woefully behind the generous schedule I set for myself last fall.

I'd also love to learn how to play the oboe. But, given the commitments needed to succeed with my other resolutions, I think this can wait until 2010.

All of this, of course, is on top of my efforts to be the best PERSON -- be it mother, daughter, sister, friend, professional, teacher, co-worker -- I can be. We're doomed if we stop growing.

As I think of the multitude of wonderful people who bless my life every day, a favorite Bible verse comes to mind:

The Lord bless you and keep you!

The Lord let his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!

The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace!

(Numbers 6:24-26)

I hope 2009 with bless us with peace and enough of whatever it is that we need to make a positive impact on the world.