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Random Thoughts. . .and some very special news! 3/8/2010 There is nothing I enjoy more than a small dinner party...which my husband and I hosted last night. Good food (the main dish--Pheasant Pot Pie--cooked by my husband), good friends, and lots of laughter. Is there anything better than that? I'm pretty sure Heaven will have dinner parties because, in the Bible, Jesus was sure at a lot of them. I think He likes them, too! - - - - - We've had almost a whole straight two-weeks-worth of fog around here. . .and another weeks-worth in the forecast. I feel like I'm living in a science fiction movie, one where gloomy skies set the weird-vibe mood. Once this past week I called to my husband, "Look quick! What is that shiny-round-thing in the sky?" By the time he could look the sun (at least that's what I thought it was) was gone. Sigh. . . - - - - - Ever wondered what's inside a Snow Globe? I found out last night. I was pushing a metal-mesh bin of sweaters onto a shelf and ran it right into a snow globe I had stashed in the back corner of the shelf. Snow globe "juice" ran all over the shelf, along with not-quite-a-million beady-like snowflakes. It was a bit of a soggy blizzard in my bedroom closet. I "shoveled" with a towel and a vacuum cleaner. - - - - - And, saving the very best for last. . .I'm going to be Grandma Roxy in a few short months!!!! I hear my life will change and I can't wait! (More "grandma-thoughts" in the weeks/months ahead!) Road Trip Take Two 2/28/2010 As promised, here is the day-by-day account of my daughter, Tegan, and my (and her cat, Bruce Lee’s) road trip from Chicago to Austin. We drove one-thousand-one-hundred-and-fifty-three miles in two long days. I’m handing over my blog this week to Tegan…here is “her” account of the trip. (But before I turn the tale completely over to her I have to add, Tegan did admit to a slight exaggeration here-and-there for literary purposes. Guess she takes after her mom more than she knows!) Enjoy! - - - - - Day Zero: Well, I picked my mom up at the airport tonight...if the events of her getting here are any indication of how this trip will go, I can't wait (read: sarcasm). To start, her flight out of Bismarck was delayed. A bummer, to say the least. She arrived late, just in time to get in on a Chicago snowstorm. After 3 spins around the airport arrivals gate (mom was waiting for me in the taxi line and missed all five of my calls trying to find her) we were off. In the first 30 seconds of being in the truck, in what is surely some kind of record, my mom was screaming for me to "Look out!!!" for the airport bus in front of us that I was already breaking for. Here we go... Since it's snowing, our early start has been postponed and we'll be "officially" hitting the road for Austin as soon as the snow lifts. Wish us luck! - - - - - Day One: I must thank my Aunt Kim for suggesting this Diary-of-the-road-trip-across-the-country-with-my-nag-a-gator-mom idea. Really. Every time I thought she was about to say something nag-ish I would say, "Do you want this to end up in the diary? And sent to the whole family?" That usually worked and we got along splendidly today. Of course, I had to work on keeping my mouth shut too...when Mom suggested we listen to her i-pod, I thought, "how bad could it be?" After singing along to the 3 hour American Idol soundtrack we returned to silence. We made it all the way to Tulsa and are safely snuggled in our cat-friendly hotel room with the Olympics on. We have a 7 hour drive ahead of us tomorrow so we plan on sleeping in. Continue to pray for safe travels and the ability to bite our tongues. -tegan Oh, and my mom wanted it noted for the record that she was better than the cat on this leg of the trip...but, really, the cat is only 4, in a cage, and has no clue what's going on so she gets a free pass. - - - - - Day Two: (Imagine first paragraph set to dreary music...in literature, this would be called "foreshadowing") As we rolled out of bed this morning and turned on the weather report we were shocked to discover a prediction of snow for the exact route we were set to drive. Thus, the morning began with a pep-talk.... I explained to my mom that 3 inches of snow in TX is totally different than 3 inches in ND and we'd have nothing to worry about. She just (predictably) rolled her eyes (after all, there is always something worth worrying about). And so, with mom's nag-a-gator finely tuned, we set out to the truck. After choosing to take the back roads, as opposed to the well-traveled freeway, we began the final leg of our journey. "Are you sure this is still the right road?" "This just doesn't feel right." "Did you see that sign that says 45mph?" It was about this time I informed my mom that (the cat) Bruce Lee was winning the Best Behavior award for day 2...and explained to her that when the speed limit sign is posted in yellow (the 'proceed with caution' color) it's just a "suggested speed" and not actual law. She didn't seem to believe me so I slowed down just to settle her down (and I'm pretty sure I saw a cop up ahead and didn't want to test the theory). By the time we hit Dallas small flecks of snow, barely visible, began falling and the driver (which would have been me for all but 2 hours of the trip) was henceforth forbidden from eating, drinking, and holding conversation about anything other than directions or traffic conditions. My mom, on the other hand, had her foot firmly planted on the imaginary brake on the passenger side and kept me informed of every "watch for ice on bridge" sign between Dallas and Austin. By some miracle, we made it to Austin without having any major incidents/accidents/arguments and, actually, had a really good time. Rachael & Cory were waiting with dinner and we are settled in for the night. And now the real adventure begins! Welcome home, me. - - - - - (Roxy, again) We made it! Tegan loved her first two days at her new job! I had a great time seeing Rachael and Cory’s Austin duplex, and checking out some shops, cafes, and simply hanging-out with the “kids.” What could be better than that? Then it was a hop-and-a-skip flight back to North Dakota. And now, it’s ‘welcome home' to me, too! Road Trip 2/20/2010 Ah, life has been hectic these past days. My hubby had meetings in Arizona and since they spanned the date of our thirty-sixth anniversary, it seemed like a great idea to tag along. It was a quick trip and in the blink of an eye I went from gazing at palm trees out our hotel window, to slogging through snow banks back at home. Sigh. . .I want to go back! But first, I need to take another trip. My youngest daughter, Tegan, took a job in Austin, TX! (If you remember my oldest daughter and her husband moved there a few months ago.) Tegan’s husband is going to stay back in Chicago for a few weeks to finish up some work projects, so guess who volunteered to ride/drive along with Tegan?? Me!! I’m flying to Chicago tomorrow (Sunday) and Tegan and I will head out in their new pick-up truck early Monday morning. We hope to make it to Austin (with an over-night stay somewhere along the way) by Tuesday eve. Okay, so you need to know, I am a nervous-Nellie when it comes to driving/riding in lots of traffic. My husband calls me “The Nag-agator.” I bite my tongue. I really do. But, I just can’t help it, words seem to leak from between my clenched lips. “Ooooooo, slow down!” “You better not pass here!” “Are you trying to talk to a cop? If not, s-l-o-w down!!!” I’m prayed up and ready to go. Tegan asked if there were any special things I wanted her to bring along for the road trip? I had two suggestions: pretzels and duct tape. Both for my mouth! Next week I’ll let you know how the trip went. Prayer appreciated. Yee-owwww-ccchhhh~! 2/7/2010 I distinctly remember my mom telling me, "Don't run with scissors!" And I'm guessing she probably also warned me about being careful with sharp knives. I should have listened better... A few months ago my niece started selling Cutco knives. I'm always on the lookout for the "perfect" knife and her sales pitch sold me. So...I bought a large knife that quickly became my favorite knife. It had just the right heft and was super-sharp! What more could I want in a knife? Fast forward to Tuesday. I was getting dinner ready. Cutting up fresh broccoli to steam. Now you need to know that my dog, Gunner, LOVES fresh broccoli. It's one of his favorite human foods (along with bananas--go figure). He was sitting at my feet, right under my pull-out cutting board, doing his usual whining in dog-talk, that translates into, "Please! Please! Please! Give me some. NOW!!" I made the mistake of looking him in the eye to tell him, "Be patient," and just then is when I used my extra-sharp Cutco knife to slice off a pretty good hunk of the end of my thumb. Gunner quit whining and I started. OUCH!!! Man, that hurt~! Honestly, it's been years since I've bought Band-Aids. There was a time when the kids went through them like Koolaid. But, ever since my kids grew up. . .well, let's just say it's been a long time since I've seen a skinned knee. . .or the end of a thumb that just wouldn't quit bleeding. . .and bleeding. . .and bleeding. . .and, well, you get the idea. I scrounged around in the cupboard, keeping a tourniquet-like Kleenex pressed to my wound, and lo-and-behold I unearthed some ancient Band-Aids. It took about six of them to stem the tide. It's now the start of a new week and I've got a new box of Band-Aids. A very sore thumb. And a new appreciation for my extra-sharp knife! Stay safe this week! Check this out! 2/1/2010 Hey! Here's a heads-up...if you have a "teen" in your life. . .kid, grandkid, neighborkid. . .or if you are a 'kid' yourself. . .or simply young-at-heart, check out this brand NEW website (as of today) launched by my good friend, Deb Raney's husband, Ken. http://www.clashentertainment.com/ It's got TONS of great info. Music. Movies. Sports. And a LOT more. My favorite section (so far) is the "comics." (Check out "Mankind"...funny stuff!) Enjoy! Something to think about. . . 1/31/2010 I found this quote on Facebook (don't know who wrote it) and it's been flitting in-and-out of my thoughts ever since: "Your temptations are a handy way to find out who the devil really thinks you are." My temptations? Hmmmmmm........?????????? Spending too much on books??? (Is that really a 'bad' thing?) What about those times a friend has entrusted me with a "secret?" Oh...it would be SO tempting to tell someone. But, I've learned from hard-won experience that the small thrill of gossip is NOT worth the guilt of breaking a confidence. Who does the devil think I am, anyway? If I gave it much thought I could go on-and-on. Instead, I'll toss the ball into your court. . .what are your temptations?? Who does the devil think you are? Snow Day 1/24/2010 I remember Snow Day's back-in-the-day. There was something down-right thrilling about waking up to hear the wind howling and to look out the window and see snow blowing horizonally past my bedroom windows. "No school today," my mom would report. . .and I'd have to listen to the radio announcer read through the school closing just to make sure with my very-own-ears that Wishek didn't have school, either. And then...then...the whole luscious long day lay before me. Time to read another Nancy Drew book. Time to torment my younger sisters. Time, if the wind went down, to bundle up and head outside to climb snowbanks and toboggan down the hill near the cemetary. I was kind of thinking we'd have one of those days today. Afterall, the weatherman had been warning us ALL week of the coming storm. No travel advised. Everyone stay home~! Well, the weather isn't quite as bad as predicted, but due to freezing rain, fog, snow, and sleet there are many snapped poles and power lines in our area. . .but hubby and I are just fine. We're pretending we're snowed in. Instead of playing in snowbanks, we're going to eat dinner in front of the roaring fireplace. In the meantime, there's a book I need to read. Ah. . .Snow day!! A Heart for Haiti 1/17/2010 It was such a simple thing. And I did it without a second thought. . . I had some ironing to do yesterday and to get started I needed to fill the steam reservoir of my iron. I've got this plastic, cup-like-funnel-thingy that came with the iron to make it easier. I filled the cup and then the iron but, as usual, I had too much water in the cup and I had to dump the extra water down the drain. With a flip of my wrist it was gone. . .and that was the moment it occurred to me that there are people in Haiti who would savor those couple swallows of water. And then. . .I couldn't stop thinking about all the things I take for granted that the people in Haiti lost this week. As I climbed into bed between my white cotton sheets I wondered where those displaced by the earthquake were sleeping? More than likely on the hard, unstable ground instead of in a bed with a pillowtop mattress. If they have a pillow it's probably a bundled-up piece of clothing, not ticking filled with soft down feathers. And my list-making goes on. . . I've never been to Haiti but I have a special connection there. For many years I've supported a young girl (through the Compassion organization) who lives in Haiti. I've sent money that's used to send her to school and to help her buy clothes and books. A month or so ago she wrote and told me they didn't have enough to eat. . .I read that letter at my kitchen table surrounded by cupboards and a fridge filled with food. And now, with the earthquake, food must be even harder to come by. If she's alive, at all. I haven't heard a word. We have so much we take for granted (like water flowing freely from a faucet to fill an iron). . .they have lost even the little they had. I've been praying a LOT. For my young girl. For her family and schoolmates. For the Compassion workers. And all those helping in the rescue efforts. And I'm asking you to please pray, too. A quiet Sunday. . . 1/10/2010 It’s down. Sigh. . . My Christmas tree is packed up and put away for another year. I kept it up a bit longer than usual this season. Part of me didn’t want to let go of the fabulous family Christmas we had this year. (Plus I enjoyed the little lights shining at night during a waaaaaaaay below zero temperatures week in North Dakota.) And, to be honest, part of me was just a little bit lazy to tackle the project. But, it’s done. I rewarded myself by sitting down and watching two Netflix movies back-to-back. (While I did two loads of laundry.) Now my husband is running out to pick up a pizza for supper. There is much to do and look forward to in this brand new year. . .two-thousand-and-ten. (I still have some Christmas gifts to put away, and I need to vacuum and rearrange the furniture where the Christmas tree stood.) But, all that can wait. For tonight I’m just going to be content to enjoy some quiet moments on a lazy Sunday night. Have a wonderful evening. . .and week! Happy New Year! 1/3/2010 We’re only three days into the New Year and I can already tell you it is the BEST year EVER. . .let me tell you why. . . On the 27th our daughter, Rachael, and son-in-law, Cory, were on their way from “our” little town in rural North Dakota, to Austin, Texas (their new hometown) after celebrating a Christmas the kids and cousins declared The. Best. Christmas. Ever. We’d been stormed in by a three-day Christmas blizzard that our warmer-climate family found cozy and exciting. It was. We’d gone to church. We’d opened gifts. We ate ourselves silly. We laughed (a LOT) during our No-talent-talent show. But, all good times must come to an end. And so, we said our good-byes and wished everyone a safe trip home. Somewhere in southern South Dakota Rachael and Cory hit an ice patch that sent their vehicle swerving from side-to-side on the Interstate and then. . .it rolled. Several times. Landing them nearly upside down in a snow-filled highway median. Windows had popped. Shoes and clothes and even their dog got twirled around. Their vehicle was totaled. But their seatbelts held!! They were a little stiff and sore, mentally shaken, but safe-and-sound!! Whenever my kids travel anywhere I always pray for safety. This time my prayer got answered in a way I wouldn’t have chosen, but reminds me that sometimes we need to realize how quickly (in the blink of an eye, or the tap of a brake pedal) that life is fragile and precious. I started the New Year in the same way I ended the old one. . .giving thanks to GOD for sparing my kids’ (and their dog’s) lives. Happy New Year! May this be your Best. Year. Ever. It's over. . . 12/28/2009 Yesterday, as I sat in church with most of our company on-the-road heading home, I found myself thinking, "Well, it's over." I looked down the pew at my sister and her husband. They'd be leaving for North Carolina as soon as the service was over, and my daughter would be on her way to Austin, Texas. I gazed at the large, beautifully lit Christmas tree at the front of the church, the poinsettias, and candles. Even though we had a wonderful Christmas, I was tired from all the cooking and commotion. Somehow the 'magic' of the holiday had dimmed. And then our pastor got up to read the scripture, a passage from Luke (after the manger story)about Jesus being taken to the temple for his dedication and it struck me. . .Christmas isn't over. . .in fact the story has just begun. The birth of that baby was just the beginning of a life-changing, world-changing story. The Good News isn't just that of His birth. The Good News is that He still lives! And that news should have us rejoicing all year long! Out of the mouths of babes. . . 12/20/2009 A long time ago I learned that children's sermons aren't just for kids. They are short and to the point and can drive home a lesson that even us big kids can understand. And then there are those moments (like today) when what the pastor planned to say gets upstaged by the wisdom of a child. Our pastor started the children's sermon by telling them they should pretend they were in school. She was going to ask them a fill-in-the-blank question and wanted the kids to complete the sentence. "Okay, here it is," she said. "Love is. . ." The kids were silent. So silent that she again said, "Love is. . ." More quietness. In the meantime I found myself filling-in-the-blank with what I thought the kids would eventually come up with. Things like, love is a new X-box. Love is a new bike. Love is getting lots of presents. "Come on you guys," our pastor urged, "certainly you can think of something. Love is. . ." And then, across the circle a young boy whispered something. "What did you say?" Our pastor leaned forward to hear. It seemed everyone in church was straining to hear, too. Softly, just loud enough that those of us near the front could catch what he said, he whispered again. "Powerful," he said. "Love is powerful." And that is all the sermon I needed to hear today. Amen. - - - - - Have a wonderful Christmas! Tis the season. . . 12/13/2009 The holiday hurry has hit with a vengeance. I’ve just spent the past two days addressing Christmas card envelopes, trying to make it an enjoyable task by sipping on tea and listening to carols in the background. I’ve been wrapping gifts as they arrive (I’ve done most of my shopping on-line. . .that’s what we do here in rural North Dakota) but even so I’ve found they tend to pile up and get away from my good intentions. I baked my annual fruitcake (oh. . .it’s SO good—honest!) and a big batch of Pizzelles (and, yes, for those of you wondering after my last week’s post, I did get them to the bake sale on time!) The tree is up and decorated. My Snow Village people are going about their never-ending Christmas tasks. And the stockings are hung. Even so there’s more to do. I have my whole side of the family arriving for Christmas in about eight days. Twenty-some in all, with my house as “headquarters” for most of the meals. Over the phone my sisters and I have planned our menus, but most of the grocery shopping needs to be done by “me”. . .the only one of us who lives here. I’m fretting about having enough chairs for everyone to sit on, and enough bowls to serve Taco Soup that first night everyone arrives. And speaking of Taco Soup. . .when will I make it??? Oh! Back to the Christmas cards. The envelopes are addressed, my annual letter is written, and our family photo is ready, but I still need to fold the letters, stuff the envelopes, put on stamps, and l-i-c-k them shut. (I see more tea in my future.) And just an hour ago my doorbell rang and there stood my neighbor holding out a plate of home-baked cookies. . .which reminded me that I usually give her one, too. It seems like the more I do the ‘behinder’ I get. Which is why one line from the unison prayer in our church bulletin was a balm to my hurried soul this morning. Here it is: “As your children, we are not expected to perform miracles in our daily lives—not even at Christmas.” Wow! Tis the season of miracles. . .but they don’t have to be done by me! Whew! What a relief to be reminded that I don’t need to be perfect. I don’t need to reinvent-the-wheel this season. All I really need to do is bask in the Good News of a baby’s birth. He was born. . .and in the midst of a busy season that news alone is all I need to make the season perfect. Good Intentions. . . 12/6/2009 A couple weeks ago in church our pastor announced a couple "giving ideas" that our congregation could participate in over the holidays. One was to sew Christmas stockings for kids spending the holiday in a group home. Another opportunity was to stuff those stockings with fun goodies for the kids. Since I don't sew (except for loose buttons and a sagging hemline), I decided I would head to our local drug store and buy some stocking stuffers. . .shampoo and conditioner in a fun scent, maybe some lip gloss, and candy, too. I had good intentions. I really did. I even kept the church bulletin on the kitchen counter to remind me. . .and then I forgot. Completely. Until today, when I showed up at church and saw the festive holiday stockings hanging in the foyer, and baskets and boxes over-flowing with of all kinds of things kids would like. I almost did one of those V-8 commercial head slaps on myself~! Sure I could blame my forgetfulness on being super-busy. But, really, who isn't super-busy this time of year? Somehow all these other people had found the time to think of others. . .while I was busy putting out fires in my own little neck of the world. I was convicted. (Which is exactly what church should do to a person. . .right?) There is a Sunday School bake sale coming up next week. Guess what I did right after church? I got busy and baked a few dozen Pizzeles (the speciality cookies I make every year around this time). No more excuses. I will have cookies to bring to the bake sale. Who knew that the best lesson I would learn in church today would be sitting right smack-dab in the church foyer? This was one Sunday where I didn't even have to sit in the pew to hear God nudging me. More than thankful. . . 11/29/2009 I had the BEST Thanksgiving!! It had nothing to do with the fact that I got to jet to Chicago for the holiday. Nothing at all to do with the live theatre production I went to downtown in the Windy City. Oh sure, it was fun to walk along Michigan Avenue and peek into Macy's holiday-decorated windows. And it was a bit surreal (in a very good way) to listen as two young men (dressed in Salvation Army garb) played Christmas tunes on their trumpets right on the chilly sidewalk in the early winter darkness. I enjoyed a bit of shopping. A fair amount of eating--Latin food, Mexican food, and a superb chicken-cranberry salad at Nordstrom's. But the thing that made my visit the very BEST was spending those days, doing all those fun things, with my daughter and son-in-law!! Tegan and Dave went all-out serving a traditional Thanksgiving meal with ALL the trimmings. . .including a Cajun-spiced, deep-fried turkey. (Dave and I shared crispy pieces of blackened skin as he carved the bird. . .yum!) But, it wasn't the food that made it special (although it was super-tasty), it wasn't the things we did (although they were fun, too). . .it was simply hanging-out. . .spending time. . .together. I will sleep well tonight, at home in my own bed, knowing I am more-than-thankful. T-h-a-n-k-s! 11/22/2009 It's time once again for my annual T-h-a-n-k-s-g-i-v-i-n-g report. Each year I like to take some time this-time-of-year to think of things I'm thankful for. It's funny, I've noticed that as the years go by, it's not so much the BIG things I'm thankful. . .it's more-and-more of the little things. Here's my list for this year: T-the Telephone. I'll admit, I really don't like talking on the phone all that much (maybe it stems from over-talking on it when I was a teenager~!). . .but the telephone is my instant connection to family I love (who live much too far away). My daughters. My two sisters. My mom. My cousin. In those cases I LOVE my telephone! Need I say more? H-Home. Mine. My house isn't BIG. It's not small. In fact, for me and my husband, it's "just right." There are times I wish it was a little roomier (and one of these days I just might get that dining-room addition I've always dreamed of). But I love my house. It's warm. It's welcoming. And most everyone who comes to visit says, "Your house is so cozy." I love that! A-Ann (my sister). I admire her creativity and her casual sense of style. I also marvel at her tenacity when life isn't smooth sailing. N-Night. Oh, don't get me wrong. . .I like nothing better than my morning cup of coffee. Or lingering a bit over the morning paper with a second cup. But there's something about night-time that I love. If the day hasn't been all-that-great, night time is when I can put the bad day behind me and look forward to a new start in the morning. And, if the day has been stellar, I can look back on a day well-lived, and relax knowing for at least today "I-done-good." K-Kim (my other sister). Talk about a killer sense of humor! No one can make me laugh quite as much or as hard as my sister, Kim. I also value her way of cutting-to-the-chase when I'm contemplating a problem. And, her constant advice when I'm holding on to a problem, "Let it go-o-o-o-o..." S-Smiles. In my humble opinion, one of the all-time great movie lines is when Elf (in the movie by the same name) declares, "Smiling is my favorite!" I LOVE that line. I love smiling. I love people who smile. I think smiling is my favorite, too! There you have it. . .my thankful list for 2009. Now it's your turn. . . Surprised by life. . . 11/15/2009 My life isn't so predictable right now. After years and years spent at home in front of my computer, doing pretty much the same thing day-after-day-after-day typing away, I've been called in off-the-bench so-to-speak to pinch-hit at our family business to help out during a staffing shortage. I'll admit my first two weeks on-the-job have been an adjustment. For one thing I "have" to be up-and-at-'em first thing every morning (expect Saturday and Sunday...Ahhhh.....) In my former life as an author, if I wanted to linger over the morning paper with a cup of coffee (or three) no one would know...or care...as long as I got my manuscript off to my editor on time. (A date that was MONTHS away and made paper/coffee/lingering all too easy to do.) All of a sudden I find myself heading out the door (without a second cup of coffee) and working elbow-to-elbow with real, live people!! Carrying on actual out LOUD conversations with people who talk back! Amazing~! I sort-of like working with real life folks. Although I'm still trying to figure out when I can go grocery shopping or stop in at our local drugstore. I mean in my previous life I could tell my fictional characters to take a nap while I ran out and did some errands. Those folks in my made-up town were very cooperative. They never did a thing while I was away and they'd perk right up whenever I sat down at my keyboard. French author, Marcel Proust, said, "A measure of disquiet is a divine gift." I'm learning that's true. Sometimes I need my boat rocked a bit to keep me from getting too complacent. . .too entrenched in my comfortable rut. The surprise of disquiet is that it truly does hold divine gifts. Oh sure, I sort-of miss my days alone at home with my fictional friends (after all, I've spent ten solid years with them). But I've also found there is another dimension to a life with real, live co-workers. It's fun to talk a bit while we wait for another customer to walk in. Or to catch-up on Monday after a busy (or lazy) weekend. I like talking to the customers as I wait on them. And learning how to navigate this brand new twist in my life has been an interesting challenge. I'm wishing you a wonderful week with just a tiny bit of 'disquiet'. . .just enough so you see the divine gifts in your life. Mary or Martha?? 11/8/2009 Most Monday's start the same at my house. I get up, get dressed, get a load of laundry going and then sit down to do my devotions. I read a short inspirational reading to get started and then open my Bible. At this point in my life I've read the Bible through many times. I start at the beginning and ever-so-slowly make my way from Genesis to Revelation. One time I read the Bible in 90 days (a challenge I found left little time for thinking. . .and one I probably won't do again). Most times my reading plan takes a year, or two-or-three (if I read all the study notes along with the passages). I try and pick up different versions of the Bible to keep my study fresh but, I'll admit, there are certain parts that are oh-so-familiar and the verses seem to go in one ear and right out the other. (Sorry, Lord~! I really try to pay attention but, as You know, I'm all too human.) I've found that I can read the same Bible passage over-and-over and then one certain time a particular thought will jump out at me. This past Monday I was reading about Mary and Martha. Mary sat at Jesus’ feet taking in his teaching, while Martha loudly huffed-and-puffed because she had to do all the work. Ah, yes, I can identify with Martha. There have been many occasions when I've been banging my way around the kitchen while the rest of the family is visiting and laughing in the other room. But what caught my eye this time was a phrase in the study notes of my Bible, it read something like this, “Don’t get so busy doing things for Jesus that you forget to spend time with Jesus.” I think back to the many years I spent (when my kids were little) teaching Sunday School and serving as the Sunday School Superintendent. I helped out with the Christmas programs and baked cookies for Youth events. I drove kids to camp and picked them up again. I was so busy running that I didn't take time to study God's word OR take much time to talk to Him. Back then there really wasn't time. . .or so it seemed. Now that I look back, I can see I was most often busy being "Martha," taking pride in all I was "doing." Instead I might have taken a lesson from Mary and just "sat" sometimes listening to what He might have to say to me. Ah, well, the kids are gone from home and now I have the time. . .and make the time to learn and listen. I'm still not even close to being a Mary. Instead, I'm still mostly-Martha. But, I'm trying... Happy November! 11/1/2009 Once upon a time there was a blogger named 'Roxy' who sat down at her computer and realized that she had been blogging (with a few rare exceptions) every week for seven YEARS. And then one day (today) she sat down and found her mind b-l-a-n-k. Oh sure, she could write about the special All Saints service at church that morning. But the touching ceremony made her miss (a lot) her Aunt who died a month ago (along with missing a whole bunch of relatives and friends who are waiting in Heaven). She could write about the extra-special benediction song the choir sang. . .but it's hard to hum a tune over the internet. She could even write about the convoluted housing fiasco her oldest daughter and husband had trying to complete their move to Austin, TX. . .but in the end, it all turned out just fine. So. . .she decided to simply wish her readers a Happy November. . .and leave it at that. Have a great one! ; ) Bewitched 10/26/2009 Okay, I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a curmudgeon when it comes to Halloween. It’s not that I begrudge the little tykes their candy, what I don’t like is answering the door over-and-over-and-over with my dog barking as if Satan himself was at our front door. (Or the UPS man, who he barks at just as fiercely.) And don’t forget, in North Dakota, most Halloween nights are accompanied by a frigid blast of air (and sometimes s-n-o-w) every time the door opens. It’s no wonder I could just as well dress myself up as one of the Seven Dwarfs and wear a sign that says, “I’m Grumpy~!” But, I’m not that old. I remember the days when Halloween was the highlight of October. Most years I invented a costume by myself (with a little help from Mom). It seems like I was a Gypsy more times than anything else, using canning jar metal rings as earrings (draped over my ears with a piece of string), lots of necklaces, and a ‘twirly’ skirt of my mom’s that made me feel quite exotic. It was rumored that an old gentleman in town handed out fifty cents pieces in place of candy, but I never could muster the courage to walk up the dark, tree-lined path to his small house which was far away from any street lamps. Instead my friends and I stood on the curb, daring each other to go up the walk. We could have just as well dressed ourselves as chickens! We never did find out if the rumor was true. And then there was the year I was going to be especially smart about rationing out the candy I had collected. I figured out that I had a plastic orange pumpkin filled with enough treats to last me for MONTHS if I only ate one piece a day. So. . .that’s what I planned to do. I hid my stash on an upper shelf of my closet to keep my pesky sisters in the dark. Imagine my surprise when the following year I went to grab my candy-collecting pumpkin and found it half-filled with old, stale candy~! I’d totally FORGOT that I had hidden the candy from my sisters and, obviously, myself. Sheesh! Out-of-sight, out-of-mind. My only consolation is knowing that I was just as forgetful at age ten as I am now. Proof positive that my mind really hasn’t given up the ghost. (Pun intended!) Eat some candy. Hand some out. Have a great week! Tis the Season. . .already??? 10/18/2009 Maybe it's the first snow fall of the season we had this week (even though it's already shoveled...and melted). Or maybe it's the fact that this has been declared a "Wishek-Christmas." (Which means everyone in our extended family will be heading "home" come the end of December.) Whatever it is. . .I'm finding myself in an early holiday mood. I find myself thinking about putting out my Snow Village as soon as I can get around to it. I've hummed snippets of Christmas carols in my head. I've wondered just which holiday cookies I should make for the home-bound 'crew.' I've done some on-the-phone menu planning with my sister. I've found myself browsing through catalogs thinking, "Would ______ (insert name here) like this?" I've even visualized my Christmas tree all decorated and lit at the end of a cold, snowy day. Oh, yeah, I've got the Christmas spirit! And then part of me thinks, "Wait-a-minute~! Halloween hasn't even come-and-gone, yet!" The way I see it is. . .is there anything wrong with having the Christmas spirit just a little bit early this year? Not a thing!! And, so, let me be the first to say it, "Merry Christmas!" And now I'm off to ponder what I'll hand out for Halloween treats. . . Just another manic Monday. . . 10/12/2009 Once again it's Monday and I find myself short on time. . .at least this week it's NOT because I over-slept. (Yay for me!) I was gone at a speaking event in Williston over the weekend (Thank you Williston ladies for a grand time!) and now I'm home with a to-do list a mile long. And at the very TOP of that list (right after updating my blog) is to spend the day at my mom and step-dad's helping them organize a few things. . .well, make that a LOT of things. So, in the effort to save time (you and me both) I'll leave you with a quote to ponder. It was in our church bulletin yesterday and I've been chuckling about it ever since I read it. Chuckling and marveling at the truth contained in that one sentence. Here it is, courtesy of Mark Twain: Most people are bothered by those passages of Scriptures they do not understand, but the passages that bother me are those I do understand. Well said. And "Amen." - - - - PS: This coming Wednesday is a 'national holiday' in my little town. It's Sauerkraut Day!! Come one. Come all. Free kraut, wieners, mashed potatoes and 'fixin's.' And some German music, too! I can't wait. Home. . . 10/5/2009 I’m late. . .I’m late!! I over-slept by an HOUR this morning and, do you know what?...I didn’t care! Normally when I over-sleep I open my eyes, look at the clock and then JUMP!! out of bed. Today was different. After being away from my own bed for five nights it felt deliciously good to be back in my own bed last night. And when I finally pried my eyes open this morning all I really wanted to do was to roll over and go back to sleep. But I didn’t. . .I had way too much to do. My husband and I spent most of last week in northern North Dakota at Hostfest. A HUGE festival celebrating all things Scandinavian. You might ask how a good German-Russian like me ended up there? Well, the fact of the matter is I’m half Finnish and Danish, and since I write books set in North Dakota I was invited to participate in the Hostfest book store. It was a wonderful week. A time when I met TONS of people. Reacquainted with some old friends. And actually discovered a distant relative, or two. I couldn’t quite bring myself to try rummegrut (or however you spell it), or lutefisk, but the waffles with hot blueberry’s on top (whipped cream, too) were fabulous! And when my husband discovered a church booth selling cheese buttons topped with buttered, toasted bread crumbs and cream gravy, why, I was in food heaven. All good things must come to an end, and now I’m home playing that ever-popular game of “catch-up.” While laundry, bill paying, and cooking my own meals aren’t nearly as exciting as a week at a Hostfest, there are little pleasures that come with being home. . .like my own blend of morning coffee, eating my homemade granola for breakfast and, best of all, getting to sleep in my own bed. Ahhh. . .home! Too little time. . . 9/28/2009 I am running behind. Waaaaaaayyyyyyyyy behind. But it's the good kind of behind. That's what happens when my girls come home for a long weekend (from Austin, TX and Chicago) and my sister flies in from Raleigh, NC. It was a weekend of giggles, belly laughs, and a few tears (my 96 year old step-Aunt died over the weekend--she's long wanted to go "home" so her passing was bittersweet for those of us left behind.) We attended a wonderful Alumni event at the University of Mary in Bismarck, ND (my alma matter) on Friday night. Saturday the girls caught up with home-town friends, while I gabbed with my sister. Sunday we all attended a super-special church service celebrating a multi-church merger thirty years ago. What made it extra-special was the solo my 85 year old step-dad sang and the words he spoke as he summed up the power of Christians working together toward a common goal. We were all blinking back tears of joy and pride. . .and a little sadness since my girls would be flying out later that afternoon. And now it's Monday and I have laundry to do, beds to remake, two meetings today, a dinner invite at our local cafe, I'm trying to cram in some last-minute visiting with my sister (who leaves tomorrow) and I'm getting ready to attend an almost week-long festival where I'm hoping to get the word out about my books. Which is why this quote that I have pinned to my bulletin board is so appropriate today. It's by the famous conductor, Leonard Bernstein. Here it is: To achieve great things, two things are needed: a plan, and not quite enough time. I've certainly got the not-quite-enough-time part, I've got a little bit of a plan. . .so all that's left is to achieve something great. Here I go. . . Requiem for a Fridge 9/21/2009 My fridge died on Sunday. It has lived a good life (twenty-plus years!), but it finally decided to call it quits. Of course I didn't discover this until I went to grab some ice and stuck my hand in a ice bin filled with coolish water. Yuck~! Luckily, we caught it in time to save the package of salmon I had in the freezer, and the milk in the fridge. But I took the fridge's demise as a sign from "Above" that it was time to clean out my condiment shelf. (Please tell me you know what I mean~!) Honestly, how long had those three containers of French's mustard been there? And the Poupon was almost empty (and possibly a little crusty around the edges). And then there were the nuts I had in the freezer for. . .how long? Who knows??? If they weren't yet rancid, they certainly had freezer-breath. Since I live in a little town without an official appliance store (and 100 miles from the place that would have them) there was no way I was going to be able to buy a new fridge before I flew out to a business conference on Wednesday. So. . .the repair man came on Tuesday and managed to resuscitate the motor for a short time. He declared the compressor "tired." And I don't blame it. Running non-stop for two decades could do that to anything. I'm hoping my fridge limps along for another week, or three. By then I may have a bead on a new-and-improved model and my old, trusty fridge can finally take the rest it deserves. Ode to a Fridge I think that I won't ever see A fridge as trust-wor-thy as thee. Through the years you've done The Chill, Now...BIG sigh...you're over the hill. I'm sorry to say, "This is good-bye." I must move on...another BIG sigh. And so it is I pull the plug. Have you checked out the cost of a new fridge? Ugg!!! Final words to my fridge: Hold your shelves high. . .you served us well. Oh, Happy Day! 9/13/2009 She was born on Friday the 13th. . .which turned out to be our lucky day. Our daughter, Rachael, turned my husband and me from a simple “couple” into a family. That was thirty-five years ago. . .today. Sigh. . . Today I’m remembering all the birthday parties I hosted through the years. There was the ‘famous’ surprise birthday, the year Rachael was in fourth grade. She thought she was just coming home from piano lessons and found the kitchen crammed with her little friends. Was she surprised? Yes! And she was also FURIOUS~! She slammed the door and stomped straight up the stairs to her bedroom and slammed that door, too. When I got her calmed down I found out the reason she was so mad was that all her friends had kept this birthday-party “secret” from her all day long. She didn’t like the idea that they knew something she didn’t. That was the last surprise party I ever threw. But, there were lots of other regular-parties. Crepe-paper streamers above the kitchen table. A homemade cake with candles to blow out. Ice cream, too. Games and presents. Today my “little girl” is several states away from here, celebrating her actual birth day in an airport (on her way to a business meeting). But in my heart it’s her special day all-day-long. . .no matter where she is. Happy birthday, Rachael! Love, Mom Dog-Gone-It 9/7/2009 Here's a tip: If someone asks you to have your DOG autograph a book. . .don't do it!!!!!! It all started when a reader (and dog trainer) from Canada e-mailed me to get an autographed copy of my latest book. She's been an e-mail pal for awhile and follows my blog. She knows I'm in love with my English Cocker Spaniel, Gunner. So...she asked for not just "my" signature in the book, but Gunner's, too. Now, I'll admit, this was a first. But she gave me some tips on how to do it and she made it sound deceptively easy. I had a stamp pad, but the last time I'd used it was for Christmas cards, so my first attempt to get Gunner's paw print imprinted left nothing but a faint smudge. Ah, I could solve that. I inked the stamp pad up good. Really good! By now Gunner was on-to-my-trick and he refused to come when I called. "Want a treeeat?" I coaxed. His ears perked up. "Treat" is his magic word. Reluctantly, he moseyed my way. I pulled him close, grabbed a paw and pressed it onto the stamp pad and then (quickly) onto the book page. Then, in the flick of an ear, Gunner pulled his paw away and took off!! I had ink ALL OVER my hand, AND the kitchen floor, AND a smudge on my living room carpet. Permanent ink. Did I mention ink was on my hand, kitchen floor, AND my living room carpet? The good news is: the autographed book is on it's way to Canada. The bad news is: Gunner will NEVER sign another book. Ever! At the Post Office, when I had to declare the value of my book-package, I should have written, "Priceless." It's a one-of-a-kind. Watch for it on e-bay. ; ) Told you so!! 8/30/2009 Here's a fact about me that anyone who knows me will attest to: I am NOT a spontaneous person. In fact, I plan-to-plan. Really. Most every night before I turn out the light, I have a standing date with myself to chart out what the next day will hold. My girls delight in catching me in planning-mode and trying to chide me into being more off-the-cuff. It rarely happens, but I'm really trying to be more spontaneous. Which is why, on our recent lake vacation, I was knee-deep in the lake, wading with my daughter, Tegan, when I shouted out, "Race you to the dock!!" I took off running before Tegan could react and just-like-that my foot stomped on something underwater...a sharp rock? A clam shell? A piece of glass?...and I came up with a gash on my heel that was hard to see for all the blood. "Yeoowwww!!!" I shouted, pulling up lame. Tegan stopped, too. "No fair," she said, coming to my side, "faking an injury so you can win." Then she saw the blood and realized I wasn't faking. I hopped to shore dripping blood, debating whether I should head to a clinic for possible stitches. Tegan took a long look at the slice in my foot, held one finger aloft and declared, "And THAT'S what you get for being spontaneous!" I couldn't have said it better myself! Red, White, and Blue! 8/23/2009 Let me start by telling you, "I am NOT a runner." The only good reason for running (in my opinion) is if someone is chasing me. Now you know. So, when my daughter, Tegan, (during our recent vacation) came up with the bright idea of participating in a 5K run being held in the town where we have our lake cabin, my response was, "No way." She quickly countered by pulling out the fact that it was a, "Run-WALK." Since I am an avid "walker" there were no excuses left for me. Even better news was that we didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn to participate. It seemed even the run/walk organizers were in vacation mode. We had a strategy meeting over dinner the night before the event. My husband, Lorren, and Tegan would run, and since her husband, Dave, was nursing a bit of a pulled muscle (from running--ha! See what can happen when you run???!!!!). . .he agreed to walk with me. We showed up. Signed up. Paid our registration fees. Got a T-shirt. Oh, there were some folks taking this quite seriously. Stretching. Sprinting a bit. Me? I walked over to the near-by Hardees and bought a cup of coffee. Soon enough it was START time! And off we went. Well, put it this way. . .the runners pulled ahead and left Dave and me pretty much at the back of the pack. I looked around. Wasn't there ANYONE else walking besides the two of us?? Ah, there was a young mom pushing TRIPLETS in a three-wide stroller. As she pushed her family past Dave and me, I over-heard her tell a friend that her strategy was to block the path with her triple-wide so no one else could get by. Great plan, I thought, until I realized there was no one else behind her but Dave. . .and me. And she was pulling ahead. Quickly. Oh, well, I never had illusions of winning the race, but the truth is I honestly didn't imagine coming in dead last. But, not to fear, as the walk went on (and runners were heading to the finish line before Dave and I had even hit the half-way mark) I noticed the stroller-pusher not quite so far ahead of us anymore. What-in-the-world...we passed her! Okay, let's fast-forward to the end of the race. The very-young guy who won the thing ran the course in something like 15 minutes. I'm serious!!! But, get this...all four of us (my daughter, my husband, Dave, and me) ended up winning a ribbon!! Dave and I each got a white ribbon...third in our respective age categories. Tegan got a red ribbon, second in her age category. And my husband took FIRST PLACE (Blue ribbon) in his age group!! Yay for us!! Since I write for the Christian market I feel compelled to honesty. Tegan was the ONLY one of us who actually beat-out another competitor. There were only three people in both Dave's and my age groups. So, yes, we came in "last." But, in our defense, the other four people ahead of us in our categories were RUNNERS...so we were the first of the walkers, even beating out the triplet-pushing mother!! I was quite proud of my little ribbon. And then I made the mistake of talking to the mom of the triplets. It turned out that her stroller developed a broken wheel well into the race and she had to turn around, go BACK to the START, get a different stroller and then walk the course again. Coming in not all that far behind Dave and me. And now you know "the rest of the story." Which, thank goodness, no one will know if they just see my (proud little) white ribbon fluttering from my bulletin board. Shhh. . . . Pretty Much Perfect 8/17/2009 You know how sometimes you spend so much time looking forward to something happening, that when the event actually rolls around you can’t help but be a little let down? I’m happy to report that did NOT happen on our family vacation last week!! I was looking forward (ALL spring and summer) to spending a week at the lake with my Chicago-based daughter and her husband. (Our Minneapolis daughter and son-in-law were planning to join us for part of the time but a new job in Austin, TX foiled that plan—drat~!) If you read my blog you know that weather-wise this is the “summer-that-wasn’t” here in the Northern plains. So, my hopes for good lake weather weren’t high. Man, was I in for a surprise!! The sun was out in full force, the air was balmy with barely a breeze, the lake was smooth as glass. We took full advantage of this unexpected dose of summer. We competed in a 5K run/walk (more on that in another blog), we took a loooonnnggg boat ride for burgers, fries, and old-fashioned (hard ice cream) chocolate malts. (I’m pretty sure I consumed a whole week’s worth of calories in one meal, but, hey!, sometimes a gal has to live it up.) But, mostly, we sat on the deck, looking out over the lake, simply enjoying being together. And then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, the kids packed up to go home and (wouldn’t you know it) the rain moved in. . .matching my tears as they drove off. But that’s okay, I have a boat-load of happy memories to keep me company. Yup, my summer vacation was pretty much perfect. A Beautiful Day! 8/10/2009 I've been calling this, "The summer there was no summer." If you've followed my blog these past few months you know I've been belly-aching about the weather. . .the COLD weather. Well, it's FINALLY a nice day. . .and our kids from Chicago just happen to be visiting. So we are taking advantage of the sunshine by jumping on our boat and heading out for an afternoon on the water. When my girls were little (and we arrived at the lake) we often stole a line from one of their favorite Berenstein Bear books. It went something like this: Here we are what a wonderful trip, Let's go in the water, let's take a dip. Now, I'm not sure we'll be swimming today, but we have another little poem we've made up all by ourselves: It's a beautiful day, In our little bay! And. . .it is! Excuse me while we go enjoy the gorgeous day! The best laid plans. . .and prayers. . . 8/2/2009 Sometimes I get upset with myself. . .and here’s the latest reason why. I’ve been praying for months and months that my daughter, Rachael (who got her MBA this spring), would find a great job. She didn’t like being unemployed and treated looking-for-work as a full-time job. She connected with former colleagues, networked in person and on-line, sent off her résumé to more places than she could count, and met with a couple corporate head-hunters. . .all in an effort to be gainfully employed. And I prayed. And prayed. So, when she called last week Tuesday and said, “Mom, I got a job!” I should have been ecstatic. After all, answered prayer is very sweet. And it was. . .until she said the second sentence, “The job is in Austin, Texas.” Gulp~! Not Minneapolis where she and her husband live now. Not close enough so we can see them at our lake cabin a whole bunch of times a summer, or drive there for a weekend just ‘because.’ I’m trying to be enthusiastic. I really am happy for her. But the “mom” in me is having a hard time letting go. Oh, I suppose (eventually) I’ll adjust, but I really liked having her and her husband just down the road. Okay, one state away. . .not with FOUR states in-between us. (I got out the map and counted~!) God must be shaking his head at me. “I answered your prayer.” “Yeah, but. . .I meant a job CLOSE BY.” “I answered your prayer.” Sometimes He needs to repeat things until I hear Him. “But—” “It’s a good job.” “Thank you.” Bon voyage, Rachael. I can’t wait to visit! Facebook...I did it! Gulp~! 7/27/2009 Oh, goodness, I think I overdosed on the computer last week. In case you're wondering how-in-the-world I did that, let me just sum it all up by three words: I joined Facebook. Yes, really. Even my kids can’t believe it. Okay, I realize I may be the second-to-last person in the universe to subscribe to this new form of social networking, but I already spend ¾’s of my life at my keyboard and the thought of spending the remaining fourth staring at my computer screen just wasn’t appealing. But, I succumbed to peer pressure. (Who knew there would be peer pressure beyond the teen years?!) I’ll be honest, the jury’s still out as to whether I’m going to love this new way of connecting, or wish I’d continued with my ostrich imitation—keeping my head in the sand and pretending I had no idea there was such a thing as Facebook. So far, no one from my long-last past has found me. No old boyfriends. No second-cousins-twice-removed. But I have been surprised that some of my kids’ friends want to be friends with ME! Who knew? If you need more Facebook friends. . .well, so do I. (That’s the whole idea, isn’t it?) If you’d like to connect through this not-so-new wrinkle in cyberspace, let me know. I’ll be hanging around at the intersection of “Home” and “Profile.” Hope to see you there! The Fair!! 7/20/2009 Wow. . .did I have a weekend, or what!?! It started with Stock Car races (just spec-ta-ting, NOT driving~!) and ended it with bareback bronco riding (from my seat safe in the bleachers). Now normally, to look at me, you wouldn’t take me for much of a car racing or rodeo fan, but once a year when the Tri-County Fair rolls around my little town, I like to buy an all-events-pass button and take it all in. Add a couple of grilled hamburgers, a bag of popcorn, and every-now-and-then a handful of sticky cotton-candy and I’m a happy camper. In between those thrilling events my husband and I made a quick trip to our lake cabin. Our son-in-law’s birthday is this coming week and what better time to bake a cake and celebrate?! Since he didn’t know I had a secret plan to celebrate, he volunteered to grill fajitas for all of us. (Would you believe I’ve never had fajitas before? I told that to my son-in-law and he said, “Well, you can’t say that anymore!”) They were delicious! As has been the case almost ALL summer, it was freezing at the lake. We had the FURNACE on the whole entire time we were there. But, the company was good and that’s what makes time at the lake worthwhile. (That, and lots of time to read. . .and sometimes clean, sigh. . .) This morning it’s back to same-old, same-old. But, in my mind I’m sitting behind the wheel of a souped-up Charger zooming my way around a dirt track, and as soon as I win my race I hop on a bull (bareback!!) and jolt my way to the eight-second buzzer. Ah, the life of a fiction-loving housewife! Have a great week! A Good Kind of Tired 7/15/2009 Sorry to be a bit late blogging this week. . .I’ve been sleep-walking for two days now. But it’s the good kind of tired. You know the kind, (at least I hope you do), that comes from being on-the-go more than usual, sitting in on some fascinating workshops, and staying up much-too-late visiting with a hotel roommate as if you were both still in Junior High and this was a slumber party. I just returned from Denver, CO, where I attended a writing retreat, followed by ICRS (the International Christian Retail Show), and all I have to say is, “WOW!” At the retreat I was able to sit in on the teaching of Michael Hague (a Screenwriting Coach straight from Hollywood). His insights into the story-world were incredible. I attended a wonderful brunch put on by my agent, followed by a meeting-of-the-minds with her. . .(career-talk mostly, but also lots of laughs). The next day I had a good meeting with folks from my publishing house and then I had the privilege of doing a book signing on the convention floor in the Harvest House booth. It was super-fun to connect with bookstore owners from across the country. . .well, actually, from across the world. (I met someone from England and Barbados within one hour!) Then it was time to head home. My departure gate was in the B-concourse of the mega Denver airport. There was “weather” right over the airport when I arrived and before I departed (an hour late) my gate was changed FOUR times. We were bounced around like Bingo balls~! Even so, the plane made it home safe-and-sound, and my bed felt extra-good when I finally crawled into it near midnight. My brain is still trying to process all I learned and experienced and I’ll write a little more about all that next week. For now, I need a little time to catch up on paperwork, computer work, and sleep. But, like I said: it’s a good kind of tired. Have a great week! Time warp? 7/6/2009 The weekend was busy, full of friends, sunshine, boat rides, fireworks over the lake, and enough eating to last. . .well. . .until the next meal. ; ) I thought I’d feel like sleeping-in this morning, instead I was awake earlier than usual. Knowing that it’s supposed to get HOT this afternoon, I had the notion to get my long walk out-of-the-way first thing. Now, keep in mind, I am NOT at early-morning exercise person. I like a leisurely start on the day, a few cups of coffee, and then a stint at the computer. My favorite time to exercise is late afternoon, when I can feel the stress of the day (mostly from being at my keyboard) fall away as I walk around town. But, today, I decided to do things backwards, knowing that my whole day (at least the morning) was going to be discombobulated. I was in for a surprise. I thought that throwing an hour-long walk into the beginning of my day would put me waaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy behind the things I wanted to get done this morning. Instead, by ten o’clock I’d walked, showered, eaten breakfast, read the paper, had some coffee, hung a load of clothes out on the line, had homemade granola baking in the oven, and was sitting at my computer getting a few e-mails answered. That’s more than I get done on a ‘normal’ morning. Who knew? I might have to reconsider this morning-exercise thing. Then again, it’s almost eleven now and I feel like I could take a nap. Zzzzzzzzzzz……. Happy 4th! 7/1/2009 Firecrackers have been popping outside my bedroom window all week. Oh, not "right" under where I sleep, but somewhere off, down the block and all across my little town. Yesterday I was walking my dog through the park and watched a group of young boys lighting fuses and making mad leaps away from the explosives sizzling on the ground. There were yelps and shouts as they lined up shot after shot. Which made me smile and remember... I remember when the big excitement was taking a roll of cap-gun "bullets" and pounding them on the driveway with a big rock until they popped!! Later, I graduated to a small, red firecracker (whose name I can't recall) with a short, gray fuse. I preferred those over bottle rockets (which all the neighbor boys seemed to favor) those and Black Cats, which were much too LOUD for me. July 4th will be a little low-key for us this year. The C.O.B.'s in our family (Chairmen of Blasting--also known as our sons-in-law) won't be with us this weekend. It's been a LOT of years since I've actually lit a firework. Remember the scary thrill of holding a sparking-sparkler!?! Usually my dad held a match to the end of the metallic-gray stick until it exploded into sparks. That was the cue for my cousins, sisters, and I to run around the yard like crazy-kids writing our names in the dark night sky. Big, loopy letters. . .R. . .O. . .X. . .Y. . .! Ah. . .memories. Ah. . .the 4th. Have a good one! Global Warming???? 6/29/2009 Okay, let me just start by apologizing to Al Gore. Sorry. But, here's the deal. . .it's really hard to believe in Global Warming when you have a lake cabin in northern Minnesota and it's the END OF JUNE and you have to turn on the FURNACE in the middle of the day to stay warm!! (And that was AFTER I put on a fleece jacket for a couple hours in an attempt to warm up...and that's saying something coming from a woman living in hot-flash-city!) It was warm when we left North Dakota. The kind of day when you can't imagine ever being cold again. All I brought along to the lake were shorts and sandals. Who knew I'd need a parka? So...I'm sitting here looking out at the lake. There have been white caps on the water all day long. The wind has been howling so hard it almost blew the canopy off our boat lift. And it's down right cold. Actually, it's almost warmer outside than in, but when I opened a window all that entered was a very cool breeze, so cold that it caused me to put on socks WITH my sandals. (Gasp! Don't tell the Fashion Police.) They say the icebergs are melting in Antarctica. That polar bears are losing their habitat. I'm not saying that's not true, but before they pronounce that global warming has taken the world by storm, I think Al Gore ought-to spend a weekend at my lake cabin. Just so you know, it's BYOB. . .Bring Your Own Blankets!! Summer Solstice! 6/21/2009 June 21st. The longest day of the year. The day when summer begins. Honestly, growing up I never took much note of the summer solstice, after all, there were two more months ahead until I'd have to head back to school. Days and days, and a lot of long evenings to enjoy the North Dakota summer. There didn't seem to be much need to mark a day when summer had just started. Like I said, I didn't pay much attention to June 21st. . .until I happened to be in Paris, France on the longest day (and night) of the year. Little did my husband, my two daughters, and I know what we were in for when our oldest daughter finished up her junior year of college in Europe and we decided to take a family vacation to take advantage of her time overseas. After a long day of traipsing through museums and churches and more museums (and more churches), my little family was simply looking for a place to eat when we stumbled across a rag-tag group of musicians. They were what looked to be an elderly man playing an accordion and possibly a granddaughter stroking a violin. We stopped to listen and dropped a coin in the upturned hat near their feet. We didn't have to walk too far, when on the corner we saw a group of four doing what appeared to be an impromptu folk dance to music playing from more musicians gathered on the street. Something was up. We knew no French (other than a smattering of words like 'very good,' 'good morning,' and 'do you speak English?') but somehow we pieced together what was going on. Turns out in Paris there is a law against playing music on the street without a permit. Apparently, at one time there were a lot of folks who liked to do that. . .enough that the-powers-that-be felt they needed a law to prevent it. But, some music-loving soul added a loop-hole to the law. . .on the night of the Summer Solstice anyone who felt like it could play any kind of music right on the street for all to hear. . .all night long. And so it began, the night I learned to love the Summer Solstice. We eventually did find a place to eat, but it took a long time, mostly because we had to keep stopping to marvel at the variety of music all around us. There was a rock band set up in front of the Louvre museum. There was a full-choir (dressed in black and white and standing on risers) in front of the Ritz Hotel. (And just for the record, we weren't staying there.) All over town there was music and people who loved to perform, and people (like us) who loved to listen. It was a night of music. A night of wonder. A night I will never forget. I'm going to spend the rest of tonight watching a program on the Food Network, but in my heart I'm going to be in Paris. . .all night long. Sweet deal . . . 6/14/2009 Okay, I’ll just tell you right off the bat that I am NOT a “car person.” Honestly, every car on the road looks pretty much like a Taurus to me. . .unless it’s a VW. Now that I’ve got that out of the way, I’ll tell you that when my husband and I bought our family business we sort-of ‘inherited’ a car along with the deal. It was a 1909 Buick. Yes, you read that right, a nineteen-oh-nine Buick. A car that is now 100 years old. At the time we got it, the vehicle was painted, stem-to-stern, flat-gun-metal gray. Frankly, it was pretty ugly, but it didn’t look at all like a Taurus. (Which, of course, wasn’t even invented back in 1909.) My husband, who is sort-of a ‘car person,’ got someone else busy restoring the car to a spit-shined, white-with-green-striping Buick, with gleaming brass fixtures. Even I had to admit it was transformed into a “gorgeous” vehicle. But the trouble with an old-but-grand vehicle like that is that there aren’t a lot of occasions to drive it. Most of the time it sits in storage and when we do get a notion to dust it off, the brass fittings are covered with layers (and layers-on-layers) of tarnish. This past weekend our neighboring town was celebrating its’ 125th anniversary. What better excuse to drive the old-buggy in a parade? My husband determined to shine all that brass using a couple old toothbrushes and a LOT of elbow grease. Frankly, I felt a little guilty thinking about him doing all that work by himself, so I offered to help. Between the two of us we put in over fifteen hours spiffing things up. (Okay, so hubby put in most of the hours. . .but I really did help!) To say we were both a bit proud when the job was done is an under-statement. We bought a whole case of mini-Tootsie Rolls and were looking forward to the parade on Saturday. The morning dawned. Absolutely perfect weather for a parade. Not too hot. Not too cold. And, almost a miracle for North Dakota: No Wind! It was time to drive the polished Buick onto a trailer and head for the parade. And that’s when all our hard work went “south.” The engine fired-up. . .a piece of metal fell to the ground. . .a drive-shaft (or something) almost pierced the radiator. . .and just-like-that our trip to the parade got derailed. Our car was all-dressed-up with no-way to go. To say we were disappointed is another under-statement. Even so, we weren’t sorry we’d spent the time getting the car back to its former beauty. I’ve been thinking. . .I’m guessing when-or-if I ever make it to 100, I might have a few parts that don’t work-so-great, but I still hope there are a couple people around (like my kids) who can still appreciate me just the way I am. (Come to think of it, I’m a tad over half-way-to-one-hundred right now and already I’ve got some parts that could use an over-haul.) I’ve decided things could be worse. As of right now we’ve got a gleaming 1909 Buick and a spare case of Tootsie Rolls. Sounds sweet to me! I've got questions. . . 6/6/2009 I've been thinking. . .there are certain questions in life that are difficult to answer. The prime example being: Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Then there is the little-bit-less of a riddle: If a tree falls in the woods and there is no one to hear it, does it make a sound? And then, I've got my latest dilemma. On Monday I looked into the backyard and saw my dog with his head poking through the fence. He was tugging, and yanking, and pulling bits of plastic bag and garbage right out of the side of our huge plastic garbage can sitting on the other side of the fence. I went out to investigate and, sure enough, our garbage can had a LARGE hole broken out of the side of the plastic. And it took our dog to discover it. Obviously, the garbage can is done-for. But I got to thinking (and here's where I discovered my dilemma): How do you throw away a garbage can? I'm serious. Think about it. If I leave the garbage can out in the alley with garbage in it, the garbage guys will take the garbage and leave the can. If I leave it out with nothing in it. . .well, they'll assume I have no garbage this week and I'll still be stuck with the broken can. And it seems really wasteful to put the garbage can into a gigantic garbage bag~! The chicken and the egg. A tree falling in the woods. And, now, this. I hope my brain doesn't explode~! Spur-of-the-moment surprise! 5/31/2009 The wind was howling. The temperature was c-o-l-d. There were white-caps on the lake outside our cabin in northern Minnesota. It was almost supper time and my husband and I were ready to hunker down for the evening when there was a knock on the window of our sliding glass door. The dog barked. There stood our neighbor (bundled up against the cold). “Grab something to drink,” he said, “and come take a ride on our new (to them) pontoon!” “You’ve GOT to be kidding,” was my exact quote. “No, I’m not.” He smiled. “Grab something and get down to the dock.” He nodded his head toward the whitecaps. Now, I am NOT a spontaneous kind of person. Shifting gears in the middle of a late-afternoon isn’t the type of thing I do often and, yet, I somehow understood that there is only ONE “maiden voyage” for a new (to them) pontoon, so I hollered to hubby and off we went. We bounced and bumped through the waves. Their grandkids shouted when a spray of water showered us all. A rogue wave hit the bow and flooded past our feet. You know what we did? We lifted our feet and laughed! In short order we rounded the point, went under the bridge and found a bay filled with nothing but sun and calm water. Our neighbor cut the engine and we bobbed in the late afternoon balm. There aren’t all-that-many times in life when I sit back, look around, and think, “What could be better than this?” But, that’s what I did late Saturday afternoon. Good friends. Warm sun. A new (to them) pontoon. What could be better?? Hope you have that kind of moment this week! Dial-up Dilemma 5/26/2009 Just in case you're checking my blog for some fascinating new insight this week, I thought I'd let you know that I'm giving you (and me) the week off and the reason is. . .two words: Dial-up internet. (Or is that three words? Do hyphens count?) Oh, and while I'm at it, let me add four more words: is driving me crazy! In translation. . .I am away from my usual desktop computer (the one I love) and am using an old, ancient, decrepit laptop with an antiquated dial-up connection and I am getting a lesson in patience. Or maybe it's a lesson in "impatience." Either way, I'm tearing my hair out, trying to stay connected to the "real" world. And I'm also realizing how MUCH of my time is spent at the computer, and how lost I am without high-speed access. I feel just a little bit like I'm in a time-warp of some sort of future-version of "Little House on the Prairie." Let's call it, "Old Computer at the Lake." And, just in case you're thinking, "Oh, she's at the lake and rather than blogging she's sitting outside on the deck with her feet up." Will it make you feel any better if I tell you that is it COLD here? Foggy. Windy. Rainy. And did I mention COLD??? To sum up and clarify my wisdom for the week: Dial-up internet is driving me crazy! Pearly Whites. . . 5/18/2009 Tuesday. 1:00 p.m. I am laying pretty much heels-over-head in the dental chair, scheduled for a routine cleaning appointment. My dentist, Dr. X (I'll call him), is explaining that he has a new type of cleaning instrument he'd like to use on me. "It revolves 25,000 times per minute. It saves a whole bunch of time so I don't have to hand-scrape quite as much." He says this all as if there's been a new revolution in the teeth-cleaning-industry. Anything new-and-improved in the dental-realm I'm all for. "Go for it," I told him. "Oh," Dr. X added last-minute-like, "it squirts a little water to help things along." By this time he'd already invaded my mouth with the high-fangled apparatus. There was a high-pitched revolving-kind-of-noise. The kind that makes you think of fingernails on a chalkboard. The kind of noise you try and pretend you're not hearing when you're at the mercy of high-powered dental equipment. And then, suddenly, I was being saturated with a very fine mist spray of water. So much water that it sort of took my mind off the high-pitched revolving whine. A little water, he'd said? How about making that a LOT of water! When he stopped the apparatus I came up for air, sputtering. "Are you sure this isn't water-boarding?" Dr. X stood over me, hands filled with sharp dental equipment, and snidely chuckled. (And I swear this is true.) "Tell me what you know," he said. "What's your next book about?" It took a fraction of a second for his words to sink in. It's not often I've full-bellied laughed at the dental office. But at this point both the dentist, his lovely assistant, and I were all-out laughing. It took awhile before I could quit chuckling and let him actually get back to cleaning my teeth. Quite a switch from my normal, white-knuckle approach to all things dental. Tuesday. 2:00 p.m. I'm home. Teeth cleaned. Still chuckling. Here's hoping you have a good laugh this week! Pretty Much Perfect 5/10/2009 Ring-brrrrinnnggg! My phone rang one day a week-or-so ago. It was my daughter, Tegan, on the other end of the line. “Mom? What would you think if Rachael and I came home for Mother’s Day?” What would I think??????!!!!!!!!!!! My mind did some quick gymnastics. Rachael lives in Minneapolis. Tegan lives in Chicago. It’s not often, given the logistics, that we are all together at the same time. It usually takes something major, like Christmas, to get us all in the same room. Would my girls really come all the way to North Dakota for a short celebration like Mother’s Day?? Of course I wanted them home! Of course!! I guess at that point I was assuming Tegan could read my mind right through the phone. “Mom?” she said, puzzled-sounding. “You sound a little under-whelmed.” Actually, what I was, was speechless. I hurried on to assure her that I would LOVE it if my girls were here for Mother’s Day. I would absolutely LOVE it!! And so, they came. . .loaded down with all the fixings for a special brunch. There was even a printed menu: Sparkling Sunrise Fruit Punch (with crushed raspberries floating on top), Apple Cinnamon Scones, Quiche Lorraine, Spinach Salad w/Raspberry Vinaigrette, ending with Fresh Fruit w/whipped cream. And coffee. They didn’t even forget about a centerpiece for the table: a bouquet of fresh, white, perfectly blooming Lily’s. Saturday was a “girl’s only” day. My mom, my two daughters, and I. We sat around the table drinking punch out of fancy glasses (and coffee), eating delicious food, and reminiscing about all sorts of little things. My daughters even came armed with “Mom-questions” straight out of a magazine. We were “forced” to answer such questions as, “How are your kids like you? How are they different?” We didn’t have time to think about our answers, so I said that one of my daughters is a bit of a ‘fretter,’ like me. The other one is a little more (on the surface) happy-go-lucky, like her dad. But now that I’ve had a whole day to ponder, what I wish I would have said is that I hope my girls got all of my good qualities (besides the big brown eyes they inherited from me) and none of my not-so-great ones. (I’m not even going to start making that list~!) But, after spending this weekend with them, what I know is the one thing they did get from me (and I got from my mom) is the love of family. We never really have to “do” anything when we are together. Sitting around talking and laughing (and sometimes tearing-up a bit) is more than enough. Yes, just being together for Mother’s Day (actually, any day) makes it pretty much perfect. Sweet memories. . . 5/4/2009 Most days I’m perfectly content to be living in the twenty-first century. I have conveniences that my great grandparents couldn’t even imagine. For instance, as I type this I’m “doing laundry.” For me ‘laundry’ doesn’t involve heating water on a wood-fired stove, or scrubbing my clothes on a washboard and hanging them around the house to dry. I also like my microwave and the remote control for my TV (on the rare occasions when my husband isn’t holding it). But, this weekend as my husband and I were driving home from a weekend at the lake a bit of nostalgia jumped up and poked my heart. On the occasion that we don’t fly to the lake, the drive home from the lake is five hours. Five hours that usually spans a fast-food meal and a stop for a snack somewhere along the way. Yesterday, after a burger and a Coke, a few handfuls of trail mix, and some strawberry Twizzlers, a unanimous vote decided we should stop for ice cream at the next exit. We pulled off and I ran into the ice cream place to get us each a small treat. I had an ice cream cone in one hand and a small dish of soft serve (with nuts) in the other. I handed the clerk a five dollar bill. “That will be seven-oh-nine,” she said. I pulled out a dollar bill, and then another one. “Seven-oh-nine,” she repeated. I’d left my change purse in the pickup, so I reached for one more dollar bill. My head was spinning as I tried to do the math. Just how much was a small ice cream treat, anyway? Times two? Several miles down the road later, I was still doing the math as I spooned the last bite of ice cream into my mouth. Seven dollars for two treats? Really? Why I remember back-in-the-day when I could stop by Maggies Café and get a whole ice cream cone for a nickel. Two scoops for a dime. And if a person was feeling really hungry (and decadent) you could get three scoops (vanilla, topped by a scoop of chocolate, topped off with a scoop of strawberry) for fifteen cents. Yes, you read that right, fifteen cents. And, if my memory serves me, a whole banana split with three scoops of ice cream, a banana, syrup toppings, whipped cream, nuts and a CHERRY was twenty-five cents. Twenty-five cents. Oh, I’ve read the statistics. The ones that say something like, “Adjusted for inflation an ice cream treat today costs no more than it did in 1958.” Yeah, right. I don’t believe ‘em. Sometimes I feel sorry for kids today. There’s no such thing as walking into a penny candy store with a nickel and coming out with five pieces of candy. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my ice cream yesterday. . .but sometimes I enjoy my memories more. Time Crunch 4/27/2009 Okay, I’ll admit it, I was lazy this weekend. Oh, that’s not to say I wasn’t busy, my husband and I were out-of-town for part of the weekend attending a retirement event, then we did a little visiting with family, eating out, and a little shopping. We got home late Saturday afternoon and the thought of turning on my computer (the computer I’d had turned off for two days), made me feel lazy. (Ever feel that way, too?) I knew there would be a multitude of e-mails waiting for my attention and, frankly, I just wanted to curl up with the book I was reading and get lost in a story. Or else sit down and watch a couple movies I had waiting for me. I debated with myself: Read? Turn on the computer? Watch a movie? Turn on the computer? Guess what won out? Let me tell you, it wasn’t the computer. And so, here I am on Monday, faced with even MORE e-mails than I would have had to deal with on Saturday afternoon. Not to mention a couple loads of laundry that need my attention, several phones calls that need to be made, some prayers that need saying for my daughter (who is interviewing for a job this afternoon), a Bible study lesson that I HAVE to do today (the study is tomorrow), a library meeting at my house this afternoon, and. . .well, I could go on-and-on. Somehow I know you understand. So, let me close with a little quote I have pinned to my bulletin board. It’s by Leonard Bernstein (a very busy man in his day): To achieve great things, two things are needed; a plan, and not quite enough time. I’ve got a plan for my day and I’m already short on time, which means I should be able to achieve great things today! I’d better get at it. . . Shpreckin zee French? 4/20/2009 Let me just start by telling you I’m not a cussin’-kind-of gal. Oh, that’s not to say if I dropped an iron anvil on my foot a not-so-nice word might slip from between my lips. But, for the most part, I try to limit my expletives to phrases like, “Oh, good grief~!” So, if I tell you I got a new computer operating system this past week, maybe you’ll understand why I felt like I was inventing new words (not so nice words) all week long. I swear, for three days, every time I sat down at my keyboard “something” was amiss. For starters I’d lost my “friends and family” address book. It had somehow merged into what I consider my ‘business’ contacts and I had to comb through not-quite two-thousand e-mail addresses to pull out what I needed. Then my keyboard simply quit working. You know how hard it is to work at a computer with NO KEYBOARD??? After a frantic call to my computer guru people, unplugging and re-plugging the keyboard connection solved that problem. (Okay, so I’m no technical-genius.) I’ll leave out the multitude of other “little glitches” that stymied me and jump right to the last straw. I have my e-mail program set up to automatically spell-check all out-going e-mails. Well, my new dictionary decided it knew NONE of the words I typed. Absolutely, NONE. The spell checker stopped on every single word. The. And. In. It. EVERY word~! I clicked around my new system, trying to avoid what might be the gazillionth phone call to my computer place. I couldn’t find anything that would correct the automatic-spelling-fixer. This was something I was NOT going to get used to. In desperation I picked up the phone. . .again. Even my computer person was stumped on this one. Between the two of us we finally discovered that my new, upgraded word processing program would only check words written in, get this. . .FRENCH. Yes, you read that right. French. Which might not have been so bad if I knew more French words than ‘French fries.’ That’s when I started inventing a new ‘Roxy Dictionary.’ Maybe some of my new words were French. . .who knows? I didn’t type them, only muttered them under my breath. At that point I had to push myself away from the computer and take a break. I exercised to let off some steam. I slept on the problem over-night. The next day I called a different computer genius and he was aware of this system-wide problem. There was no “English” dictionary included in the software. Now who in-the-heck thought of THAT??? Anyway, he was able to remotely take control of my computer (which I didn’t know was possible) and within seconds he down-loaded an “English” fix-it for me. I felt as if I’d run a marathon. . .and finally finished! I think I’ve got all the glitches out of my e-mail system now, next up, is learning to work in Word 2007. I’m hunting and pecking my way (and I ordered a ‘help’ manual in case I get lost). So far, I haven’t had to use any of the ‘French’ I taught myself last week. Wish me luck! Joyous Easter! 4/12/2009 I was sitting in church this morning, watching as the Youth Group performed an inspiring "dramatic movement" of the Easter story, then listening as the "little kids" sang a peppy number that went something like, "He did it! He did it! He did it! He said He would die and live again and He did it!!" How cool is that promise, anyway?! But do we really comprehend it? In-between the celebrations this morning I found myself reflecting back on Easter week. Maundy Thursday I was in church, too. That somber evening service is usually one of my favorites, but this year I'll admit, I was distracted. There was a very little girl sitting in front of us and as the service began she started fussing. As the service continued with scripture reading and communion, she grew more and more agitated until, finally, she was just down-right inconsolable. I'll tell you right out, I felt like I didn't get a thing out of the service because I was so caught up in the tribulation of the little one in front of me. Until this morning. Today, Easter Sunday, as I sat in church and thought back over the previous few days, I thought of Jesus on the cross Thursday evening and that inconsolable little girl. And it hit me. . .maybe she was the one who had it right. We should all be weeping at His death. His sacrifice. For the first time ever it dawned on me that the crucifixion was more-than-likely not a silent event. I'm guessing Jesus' mother, disciples and friends were in tears, too. Audibly sobbing. Sitting in church this morning I was struck anew with the incredible power of Easter. The sheer sorrow and the sheer joy! Resurrection is the Ultimate victory. Tears transformed. Wow! Joyous Easter!! Enough already! 4/5/2009 This past week my little town, in two days, got thirty inches of snow! Wait. . .I can already hear you saying, "Roxy's not kidding when she said she's a weather-junkie." No, I'm not. But I really am hoping that this is the LAST time this season I have something weather-related to blog about. Let me just tell you, thirty inches of snow is a LOT to get at-a-crack. And it just so happened that my husband was out of town on a business trip when the sky decided to dump on those of us left at home. Which meant the snow removal was completely on my back. . .and arms. . .and legs. . .and. . .well, you get the picture. The deluge started on Sunday evening and didn't stop until early Tuesday morning. I woke up Tuesday filled with can-do spirit. I was going to shovel my way out of this mess. I ate some breakfast then opened the door leading to the driveway. Snow fell in on me onto my boots. Okay, maybe a cup of coffee first. "Okay," I said to myself, sipping my hot brew, "you can do this." (A little internal pep-talking never hurts.) I bundled up, grabbed the shovel and proceeded to create a cleared-out little space right outside the garage door. Whew. . .over two feet of wet, heavy snow is hard to heave around. I stood straight, stretched my back, and dug in again. A few shovel-fulls later I stopped to survey the scene. The city snow plow had come by and the end of my driveway was barricaded with snow that, if I'd been standing out in the street, was close to chest high! All of a sudden my "can-do" spirit deflated into "can't-do." I realized the task in front of me was next to impossible if I hoped to be out of my driveway by, ohhhh, say. . .May Day. I went inside and called our trusty friend, Jim. (Who just happens to have a little Bobcat snowplow.) Within a few minutes Jim and his son, Joel, came riding over the horizon (well, really, they just came tooling down the street) to my rescue. Amazing how quickly nearly thirty inches of snow can disappear in front of a man, a son, and a machine. (Wow! Thank you guys!!) The weatherman in Bismarck has said that if we get another inch-and-a-half of snow (and we average between 4-6 inches in April) North Dakota will have had the snowiest winter in North Dakota HISTORY~! Now that may sound like some record, but the fact-of-the-matter is, I've already lived through the current first-place snowiest winter eleven years ago. At this point, most everyone in North Dakota seems to be rooting for us to break-the-record. After enduring this long, cold, snowy winter, we might as well have bragging rights to something! Think Spring!!!!! March Madness 3/29/2009 When the morning paper arrives each morning the first thing I do is pull out the sports section...not to read, rather to set it aside and "not" read it. No one who knows me will ever accuse me of being a sports fanatic. Back in the day when my girls were playing high school sports, I was the Mom in the bleachers who had a book open during warm ups, time outs, and half time. Oh, I loved watching my girls play. . .but that was the point. . .they were "my" girls. It's hard for me to muster up much enthusiasm for a game my kids aren't playing. (Sorry~!) So, when North Dakota State University (NDSU) qualified for the NCAA Basketball Tournament in their first year of eligibility, I surprised myself by wanting to be there to watch the Bison play. I don't know a soul on the team, or even anyone who knows anyone on the team, but NDSU is where my husband and I met, we worked at the University our first four years of marriage, and my daughter and son-in-law are also alums and were planning on driving in from Chicago for the game. Since my other daughter and son-in-law live in Minneapolis (and I hadn't seen them since Thanksgiving) a trip to the Twin Cities was the perfect way to scratch all those itches. Now all this planning didn't happen over-night. My Chicago-kids had already purchased their game tickets on Ticketmaster by the time my husband and I decided to go. By then the Ticketmaster website said, "SOLD OUT." Somehow I found tickets for sale on a U. of Minnesota website and clicked at the first available tickets I could find. The game was being held in the Metrodome which is HUGE. I knew there was going to be no easy way to hook up with the kids, but maybe with cell phones we might be able to scope out each other and wave across the stadium. My husband and I arrived at the venue and made our way to "our" section: number 219. Who should be standing right there but our daughter! After laughing and hugging and finding out they were in the exact same section, we pulled out our tickets to compare row and seat numbers. Okay, now get this. . .they were in Row 4, Seats 24 and 25. My husband and I were in Row 5, Seats 24 and 25. Yes, we were smack dab behind them. We couldn't have planned that if we'd tried! Everyone I've told the story to has said (and I quote), "That's almost a miracle." I agree! Even though I know God has waaaaay more important things to worry about than where I sit at a basketball game, it's kind of nice to think that just maybe He did a little cyber-nudging and managed to let me sit right by my daughter and son-in-law. Even though "my" team lost (they played a GREAT game against last year's defending champs!), I felt like a seat-lottery-winner! We had a fabulous time at the game and later over a wonderful dinner cooked by my Minneapolis son-in-law at their condo. (He is a superb cook!) I've never quite understood what this "March Madness" was all about. . .now I do and (if it means a chance to hang out with my kids) I love it!! - - - - - Please continue to pray for those affected by the flooding in North Dakota. There are many displaced families and those who have lost homes near us. Bless them, Lord. Perfect Storm 3/23/2009 Sorry to be a little late this week in updating my blog. I'll write about hubby's and my trip to Minneapolis (and the NCAA tournament) next week. . .but today I need to tell you about the "perfect storm" of weather we have here in North Dakota. I know, I know, I'm starting to sound like a broken-weather-recording. . .but I have admitted to a weather fixation so please, put up with me. We've had record snow fall here in North Dakota this winter. We're used to snow in these parts, it's the metling snow (the stuff we can't push around) we have trouble with. We were expecting some water problems this spring but nothing like what we ended up with. Today, alone, schools all around us were cancelled due to flooded roads. The kids simply couldn't get to school. Ditto for lots of workers, too. The highway coming into my little town was flooded. The police were there allowing one vehicle at a time to "swim" into town. My husband came home at noon saying the highway on the other side was flooded, too. No one was going anywhere it seemed. Yesterday, we had a thunderstorm and the electricity went out. It was foggy most of last night and today. Right now it's raining, along with little-tiny bits of hail hitting the ground. And, get this, there is a BIG blizzard in the forecast for tonight and tomorrow. Excuse me while I go stand by the window, I've got a picture-window-sized screen to the outdoors. Take my word for it, it's better than the Weather Channel! Beeeeeeeeeeeep! 3/15/2009 Big things I can handle. It's the "little things" that drive me nuts. Take, for instance, the random beeeeeping noise I was hearing from somewhere in my house for two solid days. I'd be sitting and eating breakfast and I'd hear a soft-but-insistent beep. I'd get up to go investigate. . .and then it would stop. I'd sit back down--there it went again. I'd stand up--it would stop. I'd sit down. I'd get up. (See what I mean about driving me nuts? I was a human jumping bean.) I became convinced the noise was coming from one of my husband's techno-gadgets that he keeps in a basket on the kitchen counter. The next time I heard the noise I made a mad dash to the basket. Of course by the time I got there the noise had stopped. I dug in the basket and checked his cell phone to see if it was running low on battery power. Heck, it wasn't even turned on. I checked our GPS unit. That, too, was on 'off.' Still, I heard the noise. I moved the basket of gadgets into the other room, thinking maybe even in 'off' mode they were still making noise. There it was again. No, the noise was definitely not coming from the basket. I gazed up to the top of our staircase thinking maybe the new smoke detector we had put in earlier in the week was the culprit. Innocent, I determined. Where in the world was the noise coming from? There was a strong possibility I would lose my mind before I found the source~! And then, as I happened to be walking past our rather large kitchen garbage can I heard the beep-beep-beep coming from (of all places) inside the can! Ah-ha!! I just knew it, my husband must have thrown something battery-operated away and this losing-my-marbles feeling was all his fault! Carefully, I dug through junk mail, a squashed cereal box, and some assorted garbage. The beeping started up again. . .I was getting close. My hand wrapped around a box and pulled it out. Oh, good grief, the noise was coming from our old smoke detector. . .the one "I" had thrown in the garbage, along with the battery that now seemed to be fully-operational. It took a few stabs with a screwdriver for me to lever the contraption open. (After I confessed all this to my husband he told me there is a little 'drawer' that simply slides open to house the battery. . .no screwdriver needed.) But, at that point I didn't care what it took, that noise was going to stop N-O-W!! I'm happy to report the smoke alarm has been put out of its misery. . .and so have I. And here's a safety reminder. . .check your smoke detectors. If you need a spare nine-volt battery in good working order, I've got one on hand. ; )
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