Thursday, December 31, 2009
Good-bye 2009
It really has been a wonderful year for me. My friends have so enriched my life this past year. I have made so many new friends thanks to my new church, The Grove. We’ve worked together to make The Grove happen, and it did. I’ve also reconnected with many of my high school and college friends. It has been wonderful to get reacquainted with them all. It’s almost as if we were never apart. I’m so glad they are back in my life.
Some highlights of my past year:
AFRICA – I got to visit my daughter in Namibia for 3 weeks in May. To see how she lives there, and to watch her teach the kids. . . well, I was in awe. I will never forget that experience for as long as God allows me to live.
New York – Thanksgiving in New York was amazing. Daniel and I got to see a Broadway show, then attend the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade the next day. It was truly a wonderful experience for me to share with my son, who is my friend.
Writing – I’ve been blessed to attend a few conferences this year and connect with some wonderful writers and find a couple of mentors. I love having this dimension in my world now.
Races – I was blessed to race in 3 events this year. I did the Eugene ½ marathon in May with my friend Jamie. This summer I was part of an AWESOME team of women competing in the Portland to Coast relay. That was fun! Exhausting, but fun. This fall I competed in Run Like Hell in Portland. The relay race was exhausting, but Run Like Hell hurt. I guess that’s why they named it Run Like Hell, go figure. I will so do it again, though. What a challenge.
Music – My music world has so opened up this year. Not only do I have a whole new batch of music friends that I adore, but I started playing my flute again. It feels great to be able to do that.
Other things – I got to play softball this summer on a team from work, took dancing lessons at OSU, joined Soroptomist International, got a new dog named Jack, became a great aunt twice, got a Mustang, and discovered Silver jeans and Moroccan oil (if you don’t know what those are, Google them).
Yes, 2009 has been very good to me, but I’m ready for 2010. Why, you may ask? Because I can see the growth and beauty from this past year, and can’t wait to see what wonderful things are in store in 2010. I so look forward to sharing it with you, friend.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Just Thoughts
There are some things I don’t understand. I’m 50 years old. I thought by now I would get it. But even though my chronicle years are five decades old, my inner years are only two or three decades old. I mean I have wisdom now that I didn’t have then, and I have a sense of me that I never thought I would ever have. Those things are great, but I just thought there’d be some click, a change, a revelation. . .something, you know.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy. I have close, dear friends that I love and who love me no matter what. I have money to spend which I didn’t have when I was in my 20s and 30s. I am part of a church that is making a difference in this city. And I have adult children who are now my friends. . .very dear friends. I love that. So I’m not complaining about where I am.
It’s just that I moved from a frightened nervous worry-wart person to this confident, happy person, and there wasn’t a fanfare, an ‘aha’ moment, an epiphany, a noticeable paradigm shift. . . it was just this gradual shift. I’m slightly disappointed. THAT is what I don’t understand. I really wanted some fireworks, a roll off, to be able to yell “Ta Da”. . . I would have done a cartwheel.
And I don’t understand people who just don’t get it. I didn’t used to get it so you’d think I’d be patient with them, but it just seems so simple now. Is it the years that give it this simplicity, or is it something in me?
Anyway, for those of you still on the frightened, nervous, worry-wart path, no worries. It will all be okay. Just saying. . . life is what you make it and want it to be. So just go for it!
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy. I have close, dear friends that I love and who love me no matter what. I have money to spend which I didn’t have when I was in my 20s and 30s. I am part of a church that is making a difference in this city. And I have adult children who are now my friends. . .very dear friends. I love that. So I’m not complaining about where I am.
It’s just that I moved from a frightened nervous worry-wart person to this confident, happy person, and there wasn’t a fanfare, an ‘aha’ moment, an epiphany, a noticeable paradigm shift. . . it was just this gradual shift. I’m slightly disappointed. THAT is what I don’t understand. I really wanted some fireworks, a roll off, to be able to yell “Ta Da”. . . I would have done a cartwheel.
And I don’t understand people who just don’t get it. I didn’t used to get it so you’d think I’d be patient with them, but it just seems so simple now. Is it the years that give it this simplicity, or is it something in me?
Anyway, for those of you still on the frightened, nervous, worry-wart path, no worries. It will all be okay. Just saying. . . life is what you make it and want it to be. So just go for it!
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Mary's Peak
Majestic Mary’s Peak fills the
view in the morning
on my routine drive to work
a parade of cars stream
down the rural highway
the smell of fresh coffee
oldies on my radio
I come around the bend
there she stands like she
was waiting just for me
A ring of clouds rest
around her shoulders
like a feathery white boa
worn by a queen
morning rays shine on her
peak like a spotlight
highlighting her beauty
a crescent moon low in
the westerly sky hangs just
to her right against a
dark blue canvas
I imagine hiking to the top
to see the highway that
she sees each day
to see the valley floor
as the sunlight kisses
the tree tops
to see the hills beyond
to become one with
Mary’s Peak.
view in the morning
on my routine drive to work
a parade of cars stream
down the rural highway
the smell of fresh coffee
oldies on my radio
I come around the bend
there she stands like she
was waiting just for me
A ring of clouds rest
around her shoulders
like a feathery white boa
worn by a queen
morning rays shine on her
peak like a spotlight
highlighting her beauty
a crescent moon low in
the westerly sky hangs just
to her right against a
dark blue canvas
I imagine hiking to the top
to see the highway that
she sees each day
to see the valley floor
as the sunlight kisses
the tree tops
to see the hills beyond
to become one with
Mary’s Peak.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Thanksgiving with my son.
WOW! Let me just start this off with a WOW!
It started Wednesday morning in New Hampshire. Daniel picked me up at the airport and we drove to New York City. Due to traffic, we got to our hotel late and had to change for the sho
w right away so we had a snack on the run. Walking down Broadway to the theater was memorable. All I could say was “can you believe we are here?” It was surreal. Then we saw The Lion King. Beautiful show! Amazing night!
Thanksgiving morning started early because we wanted to get a good viewing spot for the parade and we did. The Macy’s Day parade from the corner of 49th and 7th ave is great, in case you ever want to go. And the coffee shop right there rocks! We had so much fun kibitzing with the people around us and talking to the cops.
But Thanksgiving wouldn’t be complete without making it to the party at Daniel’s home. We got back to his house just in time. His friends are warm and funny, and the house where Daniel lives is very comfortable. And dinner was delicious. Kate and Alec who own the house are wonderful hosts.
Daniel and I spent the next few days shopping, going to movies, working out at the gym (yes, my son’s a gym rat, too), listening to music, eating way too much, touring the beautiful White Mountains, and just playing.
Last night I got to go to his Jiu Jitsu class. I was allowed to participate in part of the class. It was fun and I learned some basic self defense moves. It was nice watching Daniel spar and grapple with the other people in the class. It reminded me of when he was a wrestler in high school. He was an awesome wrestler.
Daniel is an incredible person. It didn’t really matter what we did, it was amazing. He is such a gentleman, too. He opened my car door, smiled at me across the gym, made sure I had enough blankets, didn’t scold me about drinking too much coffee. . . he is a sweet man, a wonderful son and one of my best friends.
See, I told you WOW!
It started Wednesday morning in New Hampshire. Daniel picked me up at the airport and we drove to New York City. Due to traffic, we got to our hotel late and had to change for the sho
w right away so we had a snack on the run. Walking down Broadway to the theater was memorable. All I could say was “can you believe we are here?” It was surreal. Then we saw The Lion King. Beautiful show! Amazing night!Thanksgiving morning started early because we wanted to get a good viewing spot for the parade and we did. The Macy’s Day parade from the corner of 49th and 7th ave is great, in case you ever want to go. And the coffee shop right there rocks! We had so much fun kibitzing with the people around us and talking to the cops.
But Thanksgiving wouldn’t be complete without making it to the party at Daniel’s home. We got back to his house just in time. His friends are warm and funny, and the house where Daniel lives is very comfortable. And dinner was delicious. Kate and Alec who own the house are wonderful hosts.
Daniel and I spent the next few days shopping, going to movies, working out at the gym (yes, my son’s a gym rat, too), listening to music, eating way too much, touring the beautiful White Mountains, and just playing.
Last night I got to go to his Jiu Jitsu class. I was allowed to participate in part of the class. It was fun and I learned some basic self defense moves. It was nice watching Daniel spar and grapple with the other people in the class. It reminded me of when he was a wrestler in high school. He was an awesome wrestler.
Daniel is an incredible person. It didn’t really matter what we did, it was amazing. He is such a gentleman, too. He opened my car door, smiled at me across the gym, made sure I had enough blankets, didn’t scold me about drinking too much coffee. . . he is a sweet man, a wonderful son and one of my best friends.
See, I told you WOW!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Confessions of a Gym Rat
I am a gym rat. Always have been, always will be. I get asked all of the time how I can do it, how I can get up at 5 a.m. for boot camp, how I can train and complete a marathon, how I can find the time to do it, and what motivates me. To be quite honest, I really don’t know what motivates me exactly. I like being fit. I like being able to wear cute clothes. I like setting the bar a little higher just to see if I can do it. I like having a lot of energy. But mostly I think I’m addicted to endorphins and cute clothes, though. Hey, I’m being honest. Oh, and there’s the food thing. You can't like eating like I do and be a size 4. Gotta burn off that roasted duck and Crème Brulee somehow.
Also, I have an analytical job that requires me to be still. Sometimes I can’t shut my brain off after work. Hitting the gym allows me to find that off switch a little easier. And then I can find a place in my brain to do my passion which is writing. See, it all blends together perfectly.
When I was in secondary school I participated in every sport I could: volleyball, track, cross country, and basketball. During the summers I was on the softball team, played tennis, and swam. In college I didn’t get to participate on any teams mainly because I was already a mom and a military wife with a lot of volunteer duties. That in and of itself was a workout, but I still was able to go to the gym and swim. Plus our family hiked and canoed. My kids could tell a few horror stories about THAT, canoe trips where we got lost in bayous in Louisiana, hiking trips through rivers and boulders. Those are stories for another blog post, however. . . .or maybe for them to tell there therapists.
I loved going to the gym on military bases. I’d work out in the weight room with all of the young recruits. A lot of times I’d be the only woman in there and my son would call me a buff chick. His respect for me was major motivation. There’s a respect in the weight room, too. Everybody watches everyone and there is a healthy competition for form and reps, but a silent respect for each other that we are up and making something happen. No excuses! Of course, I never had to wait for the weights I wanted. They were pumping 50 pounders while I was doing the 15s, but hey, I’m a girl. It’s what I can do.
Then there was the time my husband and I decided to hike the Oregon section of the Pacific Coast Trail. Now remember, I was the girl in the weight room with the 15 pound weights, okay. Well, my pack was 50 pounds. I was throwing up by the end of the first day, had bruised toes by the end of the second day, and ended up leaving the trail on day 5 missing 7 toenails and my dignity. Guess I should have trained with a 50 pound pack, or smacked my husband for thinking we should have equally balanced packs. God, he is 180 pounds, I’m 130 pounds. At least he could have rationed them out accordingly. My toenails grew back and they are painted pink right now mainly because they are still bruised from my last race. Toenails are for sissies.
Once I became an empty nester, though, my gym rat persona came back big time. I have a lot more free time to fill however I want. I have friends who are marathoners and tri-athletes. We spend time talking about the best running shoes, where the next races are, how many miles we put in this week, and where the cutest workout clothes are (try Lucy’s in Bridgeport!). It’s awesome to have that connection with these amazing women! Who knew that being a gym rat was a girly thing to do?
We call it pounding pavement. The rhythm of my pace, the sounds of my breaths and the music in my iPod are exhilarating. Plus I live in a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL place. I come up over hills and can see Mt Jefferson in his entire splendor, come around the bend upon deer feeding in McDonald forest, or meet another person with some cute puppy dogs. It’s all fodder for writing later, and it is all motivation to keep going. Who knows what’s around the next bend or over the next hill. I so gotta know.
You know, I may actually do it for the race t-shirts, the carb loading, and the cheesy medals.
NAH . . . it’s for the cute clothes. I’m such a girl.
Also, I have an analytical job that requires me to be still. Sometimes I can’t shut my brain off after work. Hitting the gym allows me to find that off switch a little easier. And then I can find a place in my brain to do my passion which is writing. See, it all blends together perfectly.
When I was in secondary school I participated in every sport I could: volleyball, track, cross country, and basketball. During the summers I was on the softball team, played tennis, and swam. In college I didn’t get to participate on any teams mainly because I was already a mom and a military wife with a lot of volunteer duties. That in and of itself was a workout, but I still was able to go to the gym and swim. Plus our family hiked and canoed. My kids could tell a few horror stories about THAT, canoe trips where we got lost in bayous in Louisiana, hiking trips through rivers and boulders. Those are stories for another blog post, however. . . .or maybe for them to tell there therapists.
I loved going to the gym on military bases. I’d work out in the weight room with all of the young recruits. A lot of times I’d be the only woman in there and my son would call me a buff chick. His respect for me was major motivation. There’s a respect in the weight room, too. Everybody watches everyone and there is a healthy competition for form and reps, but a silent respect for each other that we are up and making something happen. No excuses! Of course, I never had to wait for the weights I wanted. They were pumping 50 pounders while I was doing the 15s, but hey, I’m a girl. It’s what I can do.
Then there was the time my husband and I decided to hike the Oregon section of the Pacific Coast Trail. Now remember, I was the girl in the weight room with the 15 pound weights, okay. Well, my pack was 50 pounds. I was throwing up by the end of the first day, had bruised toes by the end of the second day, and ended up leaving the trail on day 5 missing 7 toenails and my dignity. Guess I should have trained with a 50 pound pack, or smacked my husband for thinking we should have equally balanced packs. God, he is 180 pounds, I’m 130 pounds. At least he could have rationed them out accordingly. My toenails grew back and they are painted pink right now mainly because they are still bruised from my last race. Toenails are for sissies.
Once I became an empty nester, though, my gym rat persona came back big time. I have a lot more free time to fill however I want. I have friends who are marathoners and tri-athletes. We spend time talking about the best running shoes, where the next races are, how many miles we put in this week, and where the cutest workout clothes are (try Lucy’s in Bridgeport!). It’s awesome to have that connection with these amazing women! Who knew that being a gym rat was a girly thing to do?
We call it pounding pavement. The rhythm of my pace, the sounds of my breaths and the music in my iPod are exhilarating. Plus I live in a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL place. I come up over hills and can see Mt Jefferson in his entire splendor, come around the bend upon deer feeding in McDonald forest, or meet another person with some cute puppy dogs. It’s all fodder for writing later, and it is all motivation to keep going. Who knows what’s around the next bend or over the next hill. I so gotta know.
You know, I may actually do it for the race t-shirts, the carb loading, and the cheesy medals.
NAH . . . it’s for the cute clothes. I’m such a girl.
Friday, November 6, 2009
My Life on Facebook
Okay, I guess I need to write about Facebook. It’s a part of my life. I’m not addicted, but I’m really enjoying connecting with so many people. I’m closing in on 400 FB friends and I so enjoy chatting with them all. I’ve reconnected with people I’ve lost touch with after high school and college, I work through FB with my writing friends and my church friends, find out about blues events which I love, as well as things going on at Oregon State University. . . And the best part is that I’ve made new friends through FB. One of my FB friends called it “the new front porch” and I think that describes FB well. I can sit on my back porch and visit with anyone one around the world while they sit on their porch. We may not be able to share lemonade, but we can share ideas, pictures, jabs and encourgement just the same. And I love it!
I’ve read that if FB were a country, it would the 4th largest country in the world. I believe it. People need people. (crap, I’m channeling Barbara Streisand.) We need to invest in each other and have that investment back. People I would have never met are now good friends. I’m having conversations with people I’ve lost contact with for 30 years as if we just saw each other yesterday.. . .except now they are grandparents. Funny, they sound the same as the day we graduated.
Wonder if I do?
Anyway, there are many people in my life that think FB is a waste of time. I so disagree. I have FB friends from every generation, political and religious viewpoint, from so many walks of life and backgrounds, plus the groups!!! I’m part of a FB writing group not to mention that my church is on FB 100%. I would have to say that FB has been a blessing to me. I mean, really, how can one say no to new groups, new friends, and new connections with old friends? We may only chat and message through FB, but we have a connection and encourage each other. How can that be bad?
And, I know I’m preaching to the choir. If you are reading this then it is most likely through FB notes and not my blog. But I’m thinking we all need to spread the word. Connect, dammit! Connect with those lost friends, with those friends you don’t know exist yet. Just connect and invest, dammit.
Um, sorry for the swear words Pastor James. I’ll put extra in the collection plate this Sunday.
I’ve read that if FB were a country, it would the 4th largest country in the world. I believe it. People need people. (crap, I’m channeling Barbara Streisand.) We need to invest in each other and have that investment back. People I would have never met are now good friends. I’m having conversations with people I’ve lost contact with for 30 years as if we just saw each other yesterday.. . .except now they are grandparents. Funny, they sound the same as the day we graduated.
Wonder if I do?
Anyway, there are many people in my life that think FB is a waste of time. I so disagree. I have FB friends from every generation, political and religious viewpoint, from so many walks of life and backgrounds, plus the groups!!! I’m part of a FB writing group not to mention that my church is on FB 100%. I would have to say that FB has been a blessing to me. I mean, really, how can one say no to new groups, new friends, and new connections with old friends? We may only chat and message through FB, but we have a connection and encourage each other. How can that be bad?
And, I know I’m preaching to the choir. If you are reading this then it is most likely through FB notes and not my blog. But I’m thinking we all need to spread the word. Connect, dammit! Connect with those lost friends, with those friends you don’t know exist yet. Just connect and invest, dammit.
Um, sorry for the swear words Pastor James. I’ll put extra in the collection plate this Sunday.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Turning 50
Today is my birthday. I am 50. There’s been a lot of teasing lately about mid-life crisis. I’m sure buying a new red Mustang convertible had something
to do with that. My life has changed a lot in the last few years. I went from being a soccer mom, to an empty-nester in a blink of an eye. The goal of parenting is to work yourself out of a job. And I did that. It was hard at first, but I love the change and the freedom it has given me. My children are my friends, now. And what’s really weird is people actually know my name. I used to be Jessica’s mom, or Daniel’s mom. Now I’m just Linda. Sweet!
Another change is at work. It used to be work was way down on the list of important things. It was what I did so that I could send my kids to college. But now it is something I do that really fulfills me. Who knew work could be personally rewarding. I love crunching numbers with the most awesome team of accountants and analysts. Many of them have become friends, too.
The most important change, though, is that I don’t feel like I’m hiding anymore. I don’t know why I felt I had to hide, or apologize for everything, but I feel so much more secure in who I am. I still have a heart, but I know longer wear it on my sleeve. I’ve learned to say no to things I don’t want to do. Negative people I keep at an arms length now when before I would kowtow to them. Guess what? It didn’t make them less negative, only more. Joy is something that just happens to me everyday. A dear friend asked me today what I see when I look in the mirror. I answered “I see happy” and I am.
There is no mid-crisis in turning 50 for me. It’s all mid-life CLARITY!!! I feel like singing “I can see clearly now the rain is gone.”
And since the rain is gone, I’m gonna go hop in my new red convertible Mustang and go shopping.
to do with that. My life has changed a lot in the last few years. I went from being a soccer mom, to an empty-nester in a blink of an eye. The goal of parenting is to work yourself out of a job. And I did that. It was hard at first, but I love the change and the freedom it has given me. My children are my friends, now. And what’s really weird is people actually know my name. I used to be Jessica’s mom, or Daniel’s mom. Now I’m just Linda. Sweet!Another change is at work. It used to be work was way down on the list of important things. It was what I did so that I could send my kids to college. But now it is something I do that really fulfills me. Who knew work could be personally rewarding. I love crunching numbers with the most awesome team of accountants and analysts. Many of them have become friends, too.
The most important change, though, is that I don’t feel like I’m hiding anymore. I don’t know why I felt I had to hide, or apologize for everything, but I feel so much more secure in who I am. I still have a heart, but I know longer wear it on my sleeve. I’ve learned to say no to things I don’t want to do. Negative people I keep at an arms length now when before I would kowtow to them. Guess what? It didn’t make them less negative, only more. Joy is something that just happens to me everyday. A dear friend asked me today what I see when I look in the mirror. I answered “I see happy” and I am.
There is no mid-crisis in turning 50 for me. It’s all mid-life CLARITY!!! I feel like singing “I can see clearly now the rain is gone.”
And since the rain is gone, I’m gonna go hop in my new red convertible Mustang and go shopping.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Homeless Man
He used to be a strapping young man
with dreams and plans for the future
dreams of being a test pilot or a football star
like every other young adult
now decades later he sits on the corner
of the busy parking lot
wearing regurgitated clothing
looking like he himself is the result of
having been spit out of life’s mouth the way
a tobacco user spews his chew
next to him is a big dirty blonde dog
his head lies on the man’s thigh
thankful to have a companion
oblivious to his predicament
the man’s grimy hand rests on the dog’s shoulder
as if reassuring him they will have a meal today
they don’t let dogs into the shelter at night
he’d rather have his best friend than a warm bed
a hot meal and a shower
their bond made stronger by the struggle
with dreams and plans for the future
dreams of being a test pilot or a football star
like every other young adult
now decades later he sits on the corner
of the busy parking lot
wearing regurgitated clothing
looking like he himself is the result of
having been spit out of life’s mouth the way
a tobacco user spews his chew
next to him is a big dirty blonde dog
his head lies on the man’s thigh
thankful to have a companion
oblivious to his predicament
the man’s grimy hand rests on the dog’s shoulder
as if reassuring him they will have a meal today
they don’t let dogs into the shelter at night
he’d rather have his best friend than a warm bed
a hot meal and a shower
their bond made stronger by the struggle
Friday, September 25, 2009
Closed doors ~ Open windows
I had a change in my life last spring that caused me some pain. A friendship ended and it hurt at first. I felt lonely, disappointed and confused. As the weeks went by I started noticing how I had changed to fit into this friend’s world. To be honest, I didn’t even realize I had done that. Sometimes we need a shake up in our lives to sort out the good from the bad, the things we should keep and the things we need to get rid of fast!
Time has a way of healing hurts. And, as the saying goes, when God closes a door, he opens a window. Well, I’m here to report to you that I’m so glad that door closed even though it hurt at the time. God has not only opened up windows for me, but doors and the sunroof and my heart. I have been blessed with many new friendships in that past several months. These are people that would not have fit into my friend’s world and I would have missed them. I’ve reconnected with many of my high school friends which has been a major blessing (love you guys). I’ve found a circle of marathon friends that encourage me (you all rock). I’m part of a church planting team that has been another major blessing to me (yippee). The break upinspired me to start investing in my writing more and that has opened many doors for me along with many new friendships - What passionate people. None of these things would have happened if that friendship had survived.
Is it weird to want to thank someone for dumping you?
Time has a way of healing hurts. And, as the saying goes, when God closes a door, he opens a window. Well, I’m here to report to you that I’m so glad that door closed even though it hurt at the time. God has not only opened up windows for me, but doors and the sunroof and my heart. I have been blessed with many new friendships in that past several months. These are people that would not have fit into my friend’s world and I would have missed them. I’ve reconnected with many of my high school friends which has been a major blessing (love you guys). I’ve found a circle of marathon friends that encourage me (you all rock). I’m part of a church planting team that has been another major blessing to me (yippee). The break upinspired me to start investing in my writing more and that has opened many doors for me along with many new friendships - What passionate people. None of these things would have happened if that friendship had survived.
Is it weird to want to thank someone for dumping you?
Saturday, September 19, 2009
I love weeds!
I was in the garden today trying to pull weeds. I used every ounce of strength in my hands and had to resort to tools to get those suckers out roots and all. They were tenacious, willing to live and to fight me with every capillary they had. But, then I went to dead head my geraniums. Those wimps were ready to come up roots and with the slightest pull. WHY? Why do we insist on calling pretty yellow dandelions weeds and why aren’t they acceptable? And why are geraniums considered a pretty flower when they require so much work to keep them blooming? Dandelions LOVE blooming. I like that about them. They are happy and yellow and want to thrive. What’s not to like?
Then it made me start thinking about people. Are some people considered weeds? Are some people treasured more, the flowers in our world? I think some of the people our society treasures require a whole lot more than some of the weeds in our society. And who actually contributes to our community? I mean really? Not to dis anyone, but what does Paris Hilton contribute besides economically by shopping compared to the laborer who works 12 hour days tending a field?
The other day I was asked by a homeless woman for bus change. I hate change. My first response was that I didn’t have any change because I normally don’t really have any on me.. . .I dump it in the console of my car, but then I remembered - recently I had gathered up all of the change in my car and put it in a little wallet. I figured I’d use it for coffee money or something, but I wanted it all in one place so it wasn’t in my way anymore. Change just gets in the way, doesn’t it? The little wallet was sitting on my front seat when this lady approached me. I picked up the wallet and handed to her. There was enough money in there for bus fare, several days worth of coffee and a scone or two, and I’m sure a few meals at the local McDonalds. I dump all of my change for the last 2 months in my console. The wallet was worth even more than its contents, though, but I’m sure she didn’t care about that. I didn’t care at the time about that either. I cared more about this woman. The look on her face when I handed her the wallet was the best thing ever. Talk about a connection, I think that was one that made my week.
This woman would probably be considered a weed. She isn’t a Paris kind of person. . . the type of people our society considers a flower not that there is anything wrong with Paris. There was no glamour in this woman, no little dog in her bag (she didn’t have a bag) and I’m pretty sure her clothes didn’t have any names on the labels unless they were written in laundry marker. There was nothing in this woman except a simple request person to person. I liked her. She said she liked my car. I’m glad she took the wallet full of change I gave her, and I’m glad God made me pick it all up and put it in the wallet the days just before. It felt like it was one of those “meant to be” moments.
I don’t know where this woman went on the bus, but I sure hope that whoever tends the garden she lives in never tries to dig her up. I think she will bloom no matter what, and I like that in a person.
Then it made me start thinking about people. Are some people considered weeds? Are some people treasured more, the flowers in our world? I think some of the people our society treasures require a whole lot more than some of the weeds in our society. And who actually contributes to our community? I mean really? Not to dis anyone, but what does Paris Hilton contribute besides economically by shopping compared to the laborer who works 12 hour days tending a field?
The other day I was asked by a homeless woman for bus change. I hate change. My first response was that I didn’t have any change because I normally don’t really have any on me.. . .I dump it in the console of my car, but then I remembered - recently I had gathered up all of the change in my car and put it in a little wallet. I figured I’d use it for coffee money or something, but I wanted it all in one place so it wasn’t in my way anymore. Change just gets in the way, doesn’t it? The little wallet was sitting on my front seat when this lady approached me. I picked up the wallet and handed to her. There was enough money in there for bus fare, several days worth of coffee and a scone or two, and I’m sure a few meals at the local McDonalds. I dump all of my change for the last 2 months in my console. The wallet was worth even more than its contents, though, but I’m sure she didn’t care about that. I didn’t care at the time about that either. I cared more about this woman. The look on her face when I handed her the wallet was the best thing ever. Talk about a connection, I think that was one that made my week.
This woman would probably be considered a weed. She isn’t a Paris kind of person. . . the type of people our society considers a flower not that there is anything wrong with Paris. There was no glamour in this woman, no little dog in her bag (she didn’t have a bag) and I’m pretty sure her clothes didn’t have any names on the labels unless they were written in laundry marker. There was nothing in this woman except a simple request person to person. I liked her. She said she liked my car. I’m glad she took the wallet full of change I gave her, and I’m glad God made me pick it all up and put it in the wallet the days just before. It felt like it was one of those “meant to be” moments.
I don’t know where this woman went on the bus, but I sure hope that whoever tends the garden she lives in never tries to dig her up. I think she will bloom no matter what, and I like that in a person.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I'm still a Kansas girl!
Being a Kansan, I hear "You're not in Kansas anymore" all of the time. Other responses I get when I say I’m from Kansas are “Do you know Dorothy?” or “Hey, my uncle lives in Tonganoxie. Do you know him?” or “God, how on earth did you end up in Oregon.”
I know better than to say I’m grew up in Leavenworth. OMG – the comments then get really old. “What were you in for?” “Do you like life outside the wall?” “Oh, so you know how to make license plates.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. . . try to think up something new, folks.
But today I got a box in the mail. I didn’t order anything, then I saw it was from a gift shop in Leavenworth. So I ripped it open knowing it had to be something delicious and fabulous from my mom. She has a great sense of humor and she has great tastes. Mix those two together, and it means wonderful surprises! I love my mom.
Box is open and I saw the back of what I knew was a door mat. I squealed with delight. I knew whatever it was on the front was going to be something else. . .and I was right. But first I read the note. It said:
Linda, Right after I read your comment that you felt like a true “Oregonian” when walking in the rain without an umbrella, I saw this door mat and thought of you – so bought it. Consider it an “unbirthday” gift.
Be sure to read the note on the back. It is funny!! Love, Mom.
I then looked at the front of the door mat and it read “You are not in Kansas anymore”. And it is printed on a yellow brick pattern. So CUTE!
Okay, first lets go back to the note. If anyone else would have said to me “I saw this door mat and thought of you” I would most likely not be excited. To be equated to a door mat does not fit my persona, well, I sure hope it doesn’t. But being that it was said from my mom, I knew it was going to be something special. Mom, you can equate door mats with your favorite youngest child anytime.
Okay, are you ready for the note on the back of the mat? Here it is:
Do not use mat as a projectile. Sudden acceleration to dangerous speeds may cause injury. When using mat, follow directions: Put your right foot in, put your right foot out, put your right foot in and shake it all about. This mat is not designed to sustain gross weight exceeding 12,000 lbs. If mat begins to smoke, immediately seek shelter and cover head. Caution: If coffee spills on mat, assume that it is very hot. This mat is not intended to be used as a placemat. Small food particles trapped in fibers may attract rodents and other vermin. Do not glue mat to porous surfaces, such as pregnant women, pets and heavy machinery. When not in use, mat should be kept out of reach of children diagnosed with CFED (compulsive fiber eating disorder) Do not taunt mat. Failure to comply relieves the makers of this doormat of any and all liability.
I loved this. How perfect for today’s society of senseless lawsuits. This company understands that nonsense, but yet still had to do a disclaimer. They did it perfectly. “assume the coffee is hot” Really? Coffee is hot? Who knew?
Anyway, it is a lovely gift, not just the mat, but being thought of in such a special way, and then the gift of laughter. No one can give a better gift than love and laughter.
Now excuse me while I go wipe my feet just like my mom taught me.
THANKS, MOM! I love it!!!
I know better than to say I’m grew up in Leavenworth. OMG – the comments then get really old. “What were you in for?” “Do you like life outside the wall?” “Oh, so you know how to make license plates.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. . . try to think up something new, folks.
But today I got a box in the mail. I didn’t order anything, then I saw it was from a gift shop in Leavenworth. So I ripped it open knowing it had to be something delicious and fabulous from my mom. She has a great sense of humor and she has great tastes. Mix those two together, and it means wonderful surprises! I love my mom.
Box is open and I saw the back of what I knew was a door mat. I squealed with delight. I knew whatever it was on the front was going to be something else. . .and I was right. But first I read the note. It said:
Linda, Right after I read your comment that you felt like a true “Oregonian” when walking in the rain without an umbrella, I saw this door mat and thought of you – so bought it. Consider it an “unbirthday” gift.
Be sure to read the note on the back. It is funny!! Love, Mom.
I then looked at the front of the door mat and it read “You are not in Kansas anymore”. And it is printed on a yellow brick pattern. So CUTE!
Okay, first lets go back to the note. If anyone else would have said to me “I saw this door mat and thought of you” I would most likely not be excited. To be equated to a door mat does not fit my persona, well, I sure hope it doesn’t. But being that it was said from my mom, I knew it was going to be something special. Mom, you can equate door mats with your favorite youngest child anytime.
Okay, are you ready for the note on the back of the mat? Here it is:
Do not use mat as a projectile. Sudden acceleration to dangerous speeds may cause injury. When using mat, follow directions: Put your right foot in, put your right foot out, put your right foot in and shake it all about. This mat is not designed to sustain gross weight exceeding 12,000 lbs. If mat begins to smoke, immediately seek shelter and cover head. Caution: If coffee spills on mat, assume that it is very hot. This mat is not intended to be used as a placemat. Small food particles trapped in fibers may attract rodents and other vermin. Do not glue mat to porous surfaces, such as pregnant women, pets and heavy machinery. When not in use, mat should be kept out of reach of children diagnosed with CFED (compulsive fiber eating disorder) Do not taunt mat. Failure to comply relieves the makers of this doormat of any and all liability.
I loved this. How perfect for today’s society of senseless lawsuits. This company understands that nonsense, but yet still had to do a disclaimer. They did it perfectly. “assume the coffee is hot” Really? Coffee is hot? Who knew?
Anyway, it is a lovely gift, not just the mat, but being thought of in such a special way, and then the gift of laughter. No one can give a better gift than love and laughter.
Now excuse me while I go wipe my feet just like my mom taught me.
THANKS, MOM! I love it!!!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Wheat Fields
James 4:14 Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.
Life is a sweet vapor that appears
like early morning mist on a
Kansas wheat fields in late August
here for mere moments
reflecting the gift of rays
from the sunrise
caressing the
rolling fields of golden spires
creating colors both muted and bright
nourishing the robust wheat berries
that are ready for harvest
then in the next moment
it is gone
just like me.
Life is a sweet vapor that appears
like early morning mist on a
Kansas wheat fields in late August
here for mere moments
reflecting the gift of rays
from the sunrise
caressing the
rolling fields of golden spires
creating colors both muted and bright
nourishing the robust wheat berries
that are ready for harvest
then in the next moment
it is gone
just like me.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Things that made me smile this week. . .
1. Sunrise. The sunrises this week were beautiful. I loved watching the pink clouds change to periwinkle, watching the tops of the trees brighten up with first rays of sunlight and all of this was heralded by the rooster next door. Inspiring.
2. Budget meetings. Yeah, I know this sounds weird, but I enjoy the people I work with and they make me laugh.
3. Serving corn at the Farmer’s Market with the Grove church. I love seeing all the people, smelling the hot fresh corn cooking and listening to their corn stories. Some were corny, but most were sweet. (sorry, couldn’t resist those puns)
4. TRISHA coming to dinner. I love her! The pic of me and Trisha! Isn't she cute?
5. Jack and Lucy. I come home to the most exuberant greeting each day.
6. Happy Meals. Yep, they are appropriately named. And I get to give my toy to my friend’s daughter. She’s so cute!
7. Discovering a bug bite medicine that actually works! Ahhhhh
8. Fresh Black-Eyed Susans on my beautiful brand new orange plaid table cloth in my gorgeous dining room. I love my house.
9. Great shoe sale at Sole Train. They have the cutest shoes ever and you know me and cute shoes!
10. Yoga pants. Nothing feels as good, or fits as well as good yoga pants. Mine are Lucy brand. They are the best.
2. Budget meetings. Yeah, I know this sounds weird, but I enjoy the people I work with and they make me laugh.
3. Serving corn at the Farmer’s Market with the Grove church. I love seeing all the people, smelling the hot fresh corn cooking and listening to their corn stories. Some were corny, but most were sweet. (sorry, couldn’t resist those puns)
4. TRISHA coming to dinner. I love her! The pic of me and Trisha! Isn't she cute?
5. Jack and Lucy. I come home to the most exuberant greeting each day.
6. Happy Meals. Yep, they are appropriately named. And I get to give my toy to my friend’s daughter. She’s so cute!
7. Discovering a bug bite medicine that actually works! Ahhhhh
8. Fresh Black-Eyed Susans on my beautiful brand new orange plaid table cloth in my gorgeous dining room. I love my house.
9. Great shoe sale at Sole Train. They have the cutest shoes ever and you know me and cute shoes!
10. Yoga pants. Nothing feels as good, or fits as well as good yoga pants. Mine are Lucy brand. They are the best.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Carrying the Baton - Portland to Coast Race
I got home from the Portland to Coast race about 4 hours ago. It was one of the most intense 37 hours I’ve spent recently. Our team, the ChevroLegs had 11 members, all women. We had 2 vans that carried us to our various legs of the race. These 11 women weren’t all friends when we loaded the van in the wee hours of Friday morning, some of us were barely 
acquaintances at the start of the race, but now I believe we have a connection that will last a long time. Truly, this is an amazing group of women dedicated to this event, and now to each other. And most of us are already on the 2010 team! Can’t wait. Next time, though, I’m bringing bug repellent.
The Portland to Coast race is the world's largest walking relay. It is 127 miles made up of 24 legs. We had a slap bracelet we used as a baton that we'd exchange at the beginning of each leg. Being women, we'd take the bracelet off a few yards before the chute and dry off our sweat before slapping it onto the next walker. It made me laugh every time. Bet the guys didn't dry off their sweat before passing it onto their teammate and I'll bet that teammate didn't care. Women care about sweat.
So why would I want to get up at 3 in the morning, travel for a few hours to wait my turn to compete in a relay race that takes us from the beautiful city of Portland, Oregon to the dreamlike town of Seaside, Oregon? Why would I want to be awake for a multitude of hours tending to women I hardly knew the day before, competing in complete darkness along narrow roads, sleeping (there really wasn’t any sleep but we tried) on the floors of vans, and eating food provided by the local equestrian club of whatever town we were in at the time? (Um, I didn’t ask what the food was at that point, I just ate and it was delicious.)
Why did we do this? Well, one reason is to challenge ourselves. We not only com
peted against our own abilities, but we competed against other teams while becoming a connected, solid, formidable team. And we not only started out as acquaintances or less, but during the race, the ordeal, the lack of sleep and food, the multitude of bug bites, managing porta potties in complete darkness and the tenuous terrain, we became linked, we became a team and we became friends. And that, my blog friends, is why I do this.
I love connecting with people. I like knowing who they are, where they come from and what they love. I like encouraging them to meet challenges and I like to receive that same encouragement back. It is amazing being a part of a group like the ChevroLegs; a group of compassionate, fit, caring, focused women who want to become more than who they are right now even if it means giving up sleep and collecting a massive amount of bug bites, blisters and muscle pains from places they didn’t know they had muscles. . . .even if it means showering in facilities that we normally wouldn’t consider disrobing in, and blow drying our hair under hand driers in the public facilities . . . . even if it means walking desolate roads with only a head lamp, reflector vest, a can of mace and the baton that we need to get to our team mate so they can walk a desolate road with only a head lamp, reflector vest, a can of mace, absolutely no cell phone reception so they can deliver the baton. It is a challenge. You don’t want to drop the baton in a race, just like you don’t want to drop the baton in life.
Why do I put myself through daily workouts and spending weekend mornings training and then eventually competing in events like Portland to Coast? One is to develop friendships with team mates and competitors that go beyond the normal day in, day out relationships. Another is to develop that friendship within me – the one that shows me what I am made of and what I can accomplish when I put it on the line. But mainly I do it to remind myself that I am carrying the baton everyday of my life, and it does matter that I carry it well to the next person, and that, when it is my turn again, to receive the baton with enthusiasm, dedication and the commitment to my fellow humans to carry it to the best of my ability. And that is why I race.
acquaintances at the start of the race, but now I believe we have a connection that will last a long time. Truly, this is an amazing group of women dedicated to this event, and now to each other. And most of us are already on the 2010 team! Can’t wait. Next time, though, I’m bringing bug repellent.The Portland to Coast race is the world's largest walking relay. It is 127 miles made up of 24 legs. We had a slap bracelet we used as a baton that we'd exchange at the beginning of each leg. Being women, we'd take the bracelet off a few yards before the chute and dry off our sweat before slapping it onto the next walker. It made me laugh every time. Bet the guys didn't dry off their sweat before passing it onto their teammate and I'll bet that teammate didn't care. Women care about sweat.
So why would I want to get up at 3 in the morning, travel for a few hours to wait my turn to compete in a relay race that takes us from the beautiful city of Portland, Oregon to the dreamlike town of Seaside, Oregon? Why would I want to be awake for a multitude of hours tending to women I hardly knew the day before, competing in complete darkness along narrow roads, sleeping (there really wasn’t any sleep but we tried) on the floors of vans, and eating food provided by the local equestrian club of whatever town we were in at the time? (Um, I didn’t ask what the food was at that point, I just ate and it was delicious.)
Why did we do this? Well, one reason is to challenge ourselves. We not only com
peted against our own abilities, but we competed against other teams while becoming a connected, solid, formidable team. And we not only started out as acquaintances or less, but during the race, the ordeal, the lack of sleep and food, the multitude of bug bites, managing porta potties in complete darkness and the tenuous terrain, we became linked, we became a team and we became friends. And that, my blog friends, is why I do this. I love connecting with people. I like knowing who they are, where they come from and what they love. I like encouraging them to meet challenges and I like to receive that same encouragement back. It is amazing being a part of a group like the ChevroLegs; a group of compassionate, fit, caring, focused women who want to become more than who they are right now even if it means giving up sleep and collecting a massive amount of bug bites, blisters and muscle pains from places they didn’t know they had muscles. . . .even if it means showering in facilities that we normally wouldn’t consider disrobing in, and blow drying our hair under hand driers in the public facilities . . . . even if it means walking desolate roads with only a head lamp, reflector vest, a can of mace and the baton that we need to get to our team mate so they can walk a desolate road with only a head lamp, reflector vest, a can of mace, absolutely no cell phone reception so they can deliver the baton. It is a challenge. You don’t want to drop the baton in a race, just like you don’t want to drop the baton in life.
Why do I put myself through daily workouts and spending weekend mornings training and then eventually competing in events like Portland to Coast? One is to develop friendships with team mates and competitors that go beyond the normal day in, day out relationships. Another is to develop that friendship within me – the one that shows me what I am made of and what I can accomplish when I put it on the line. But mainly I do it to remind myself that I am carrying the baton everyday of my life, and it does matter that I carry it well to the next person, and that, when it is my turn again, to receive the baton with enthusiasm, dedication and the commitment to my fellow humans to carry it to the best of my ability. And that is why I race.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Simple question, not so simple answer
Why do I want to write? I get asked that question every so often. It isn't that easy to answer in a social situation without having the person start backing up and get very quiet. So I usually just say that it is fun. And it is fun for me so I'm not being dishonest. But it is so much more than that.
Sometimes I write to stop my analytical brain from crunching numbers. That crunching sound gets very annoying when I’m not at work and when it isn’t me eating some potato chips.
Most of the time I write because I want to break through the ice and see what is really going on down deep inside. Sometimes I amazed at what comes out when I do finally break through the ice. Other times I’m shocked that I was actually thinking/feeling/believing something I wasn’t aware of.
One thing I am sure of, it doesn’t matter why I write as much as it matters THAT I write. I will share some of these things with you in due time, but for now, I’m going to take some of that chipped ice and make a margarita. Crap, where did I stash that blender?
Sometimes I write to stop my analytical brain from crunching numbers. That crunching sound gets very annoying when I’m not at work and when it isn’t me eating some potato chips.
Most of the time I write because I want to break through the ice and see what is really going on down deep inside. Sometimes I amazed at what comes out when I do finally break through the ice. Other times I’m shocked that I was actually thinking/feeling/believing something I wasn’t aware of.
One thing I am sure of, it doesn’t matter why I write as much as it matters THAT I write. I will share some of these things with you in due time, but for now, I’m going to take some of that chipped ice and make a margarita. Crap, where did I stash that blender?
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Things that made me happy this week
1. 11:30 pm French fry run. Sometimes you just gotta have French fries.
2. Playing with Jack. Such exuberance.
3. Writing poetry. Anybody wanna read it?
4. Making jewelry for my friends. I really like creating.
5. CUTE new shoes. I love cute shoes.
6. ZZ Top in my cd player in my car with the volume up and the top down.
7. Training for the Portland to Coast race. It feels so good to train.
8. Coffee from the 76 station. It's like going into Cheers bar. Everybody knows my name.
9. Planning a Namibia trip for my son to visit his little sister. COOL!
10. Watching Lucy sleep. Her legs get to moving like she is chasing a moose. I often wonder what she is dreaming about.
11. Trading pictures with my friend. I love my iPhone.
12. Playing on Facebook with my friends. Facebook is the new front porch. Come on by and sit a spell.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Things that made me happy this week
1. Working with Ellen Bass, Sage Cohen, Robert McDowell and Deborah Herman on poetry and writing.
2. Being part of The Grove finance team – that is pretty exciting
3. Driving my new car – it is pretty cool
4. Talking to old friends and meeting new friends – I love people
5. Black-eyed Susans in full bloom. BEAUTIFUL!
6. Having Sage Cohen ask for one of my poems. Wow!
7. Deb – she is a great hugger.
8. Being called a Warrior Moose – you kind of had to be there, but it was funny and endearing and still makes me laugh. (send me an e-mail if you want to hear the story)
9. M U S I C – especially live blues at the Calapooia
10. Training for the Portland to Coast race. What a wonderful challenge
2. Being part of The Grove finance team – that is pretty exciting
3. Driving my new car – it is pretty cool
4. Talking to old friends and meeting new friends – I love people
5. Black-eyed Susans in full bloom. BEAUTIFUL!
6. Having Sage Cohen ask for one of my poems. Wow!
7. Deb – she is a great hugger.
8. Being called a Warrior Moose – you kind of had to be there, but it was funny and endearing and still makes me laugh. (send me an e-mail if you want to hear the story)
9. M U S I C – especially live blues at the Calapooia
10. Training for the Portland to Coast race. What a wonderful challenge
Thursday, August 6, 2009
The Sunflower
The sunflower looked beautiful
in my cobalt blue vase
a golden halo of translucent petals
reached away from the brunette hub
as if trying to experience something more
to touch one more piece of life
An olive grey stalk sipped water
a stalk that oozed out
some of its life when I cut it
to confine it
in my cobalt blue vase
As the days pass
the sunflower’s head bows
the fibrous stalk bends
as if the weight of the head
is too much for it to bear.
Petals that once were vibrant
are edged in rotting brown
the leaf is sagging
too tired to salute any longer
Scattered petals litter my table
falling like tears
surrendered
not wanting to be imprisoned any longer
in my cobalt blue vase.
in my cobalt blue vase
a golden halo of translucent petals
reached away from the brunette hub
as if trying to experience something more
to touch one more piece of life
An olive grey stalk sipped water
a stalk that oozed out
some of its life when I cut it
to confine it
in my cobalt blue vase
As the days pass
the sunflower’s head bows
the fibrous stalk bends
as if the weight of the head
is too much for it to bear.
Petals that once were vibrant
are edged in rotting brown
the leaf is sagging
too tired to salute any longer
Scattered petals litter my table
falling like tears
surrendered
not wanting to be imprisoned any longer
in my cobalt blue vase.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
A Sweet Ride Into Empy Nest
While raising children I, personally, became a rut lover. What I mean is that I wore the same type of clothes, never tried different foods, jewelry, clothing or shoes, and I was contro
lled by the clock and calendar. I was in a rut that worked for me. My time was consumed taking care of everyone else – band camp, grocery shopping, church, homework, science fair, vet appointments, work, military wife duties, chores. . . well, you know the list - that I just stuck with one thing that worked. I didn’t have to think about it so it was one thing off my list.
Kids just don’t leave, though. Like, they aren’t here one day and gone the next. It’s a gradual process. College is a gray area. They are kind of gone, but not really. This gray college time is good for everyone. It eased me into empty nest and it eased them away for parents. I called it Empty Nest Lite.
Then college was over. The kids were gone and I now had time on my hands. So. . . .now what? At first I was overwhelmed and wasn’t too sure what to do. Crying was an option, bu
t I’m not a good crier. It was time for me to rediscover me and, boy, have I been having fun. My first goal was to try to live a life that my kids would want to be part of. That was a great start and a great idea to get things going.
So I lost 20 something pounds, started marathoning, joined some groups, and became a regular at some of the local venues. All of that meant new friends along with new experiences. My new friends helped me find some hipper clothes and cuter shoes, and encouraged me to experience new foods. I think I’ve finally found my style and I like it.
Then I discovered Facebook and started looking up friends from years gone by. Reconnecting with these amazing friends has been an incredible experience. These old friends reminded me of some of the things I used to do, like writing. I had forgotten how much fun and enriching writing can be. And music. I used to be so involved with music. I rediscovered blues and attend a blues jam once a week now. I’m not a participant, but an enthusiastic listener. I know all of the musicians and actually attend their concerts.
Anyway, it’s all a journey. I loved those sandbox days and wouldn’t trade them for anything. I loved the school days with all of the hectic schedules, fundraisers, volunteering and carpooling. I loved the college years and being part of intellectual conversations with my kids and meeting their new college friends. Whoa, that was so much fun!
However, I especially love now. My children have become my friends. They are amazingly strong, independent, courageous people. They are hard workers, happy, compassionate and funny adults who understand the importance of living life to the fullest. We talk about everything and I love that! I’m so proud of them and who they are. But mostly, I’m honored to be their friend.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Things that made me happy this week
- Playing softball on Sunday - We won but that didn’t matter. It was just awesome to play with some old and new friends! In the pic is my boss, Sarah. She's a wonderful softball player
- Being part of The Grove finance team – Awesome group of selfless people. Rock on GROVE!
- BLACKBERRIES (need I say more)
- Seeing Mary’s Peak on my way to work – Mary’s Peak is my favorite spot in the entire world.
- Red fingernail polish and blue eye shadow- (see #6)
- Red, White and Blue Bunko - (explains the nail polish)I love playing Bunko with my friends and I especially love hosting! In the pic are my friends Joy, Hallie and Carole
- Ballroom dancing class – I’m starting to get it! And wearing the right shoes and a twirly skirt makes it even better.
- Posts from Jessica and Daniel on my FB wall – my kids are the most amazing people I’ve ever met.
- Hazelnut coffee from the 76 station – I love being a regular there. I know everyone’s name and they know mine.
- Windows down, music cranked up! Rockin’ home from work – there’s nothing quite as freeing!
Friday, July 17, 2009
A Good Friend - once
My best friend of 7 years decided a few months ago that she didn’t want to be my friend anymore. As a kid in middle school and high school I experience this before, but not as an almost 50 year old adult. It is so strange to be going through this. Yes, she did give me a reason that I now see was an excuse so I still don’t really know why. How does someone just flick that switch between love and indifference so easily? Now I see how valuable 20/20 hindsight is. I could have seen this coming if I had paid attention a year ago.
I was curious why the friends we had in common weren’t asking me what was up. Well, I found out recently. She’s been talking about me and saying some rather untrue things. Like I said, I dealt this with as a young teen. I just can’t believe that this woman that I loved and trusted is doing this. It isn’t the person I knew.
Just to let you know now before you read any further that I’m doing fine. I’ve found a good balance and am living a very happy life. . . just one without her. I miss who she was. I don’t miss who she is. My life is still an awesome life. No worries, friends.
What has been interesting is watching our common friends trying to decide what to do. I don’t say anything negative, and yet my ‘friend’ is saying some very negative things about me and acting out. I feel so bad for our common friends. Most of them don’t want to take sides and I think it hurts them to hear this stuff from her.
There are a few that have chosen to believe her. They know how tight we were and they seem to be wanting that prized spot I once had in her life. I so want to ask them, if she will do this to me, what make you think she won’t do this to you. . . .but I don’t. I just smile and say good morning and act as normally as possible. People are strange creatures, aren’t they? Aren’t we?
I won’t let this deter me from investing in people. I love being around people, meeting new people, finding that connection that will make them relax and smile. Even though our 7 year friendship is over, I still can’t complain. It was a wonderful 7 years. She was a devoted friend with a warm generous spirit. I don’t know exactly why she decided that I didn’t fit into her life anymore, but I respect her choice.
Maybe some relationships are only destined to be for a period of time. I debated this with one of my online friends recently. We connect, help each other through the daily journey for a while, then grow apart.
I have fond memories of our 7 years together and I wish her the best.
One other thing I wish, is that she had the same respect for me and would stop saying negative things.
Good bye my good friend. I miss you.
I was curious why the friends we had in common weren’t asking me what was up. Well, I found out recently. She’s been talking about me and saying some rather untrue things. Like I said, I dealt this with as a young teen. I just can’t believe that this woman that I loved and trusted is doing this. It isn’t the person I knew.
Just to let you know now before you read any further that I’m doing fine. I’ve found a good balance and am living a very happy life. . . just one without her. I miss who she was. I don’t miss who she is. My life is still an awesome life. No worries, friends.
What has been interesting is watching our common friends trying to decide what to do. I don’t say anything negative, and yet my ‘friend’ is saying some very negative things about me and acting out. I feel so bad for our common friends. Most of them don’t want to take sides and I think it hurts them to hear this stuff from her.
There are a few that have chosen to believe her. They know how tight we were and they seem to be wanting that prized spot I once had in her life. I so want to ask them, if she will do this to me, what make you think she won’t do this to you. . . .but I don’t. I just smile and say good morning and act as normally as possible. People are strange creatures, aren’t they? Aren’t we?
I won’t let this deter me from investing in people. I love being around people, meeting new people, finding that connection that will make them relax and smile. Even though our 7 year friendship is over, I still can’t complain. It was a wonderful 7 years. She was a devoted friend with a warm generous spirit. I don’t know exactly why she decided that I didn’t fit into her life anymore, but I respect her choice.
Maybe some relationships are only destined to be for a period of time. I debated this with one of my online friends recently. We connect, help each other through the daily journey for a while, then grow apart.
I have fond memories of our 7 years together and I wish her the best.
One other thing I wish, is that she had the same respect for me and would stop saying negative things.
Good bye my good friend. I miss you.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Summertime in Oregon
Summertime in Oregon slows us down. We linger longer on the porch with that first cup of morning coffee, we take more walks enjoying the brisk, beautiful air, and we wander through the farmer’s market picking out berries and freshly grown vegetables, visiting with neighbors, and talking to the vendors about the beautiful flowers. I think we all just are happy the rains have stopped and we feel the blessing of sun, friends, community and the beautiful bounty of Oregon.
Our driving also slows down during the summer. This has nothing to do with our attitudes of bliss. It’s because the road crews are out in force fixing up the potholes and tackling projects that weren’t possible during the rainy season. Flaggers wave cheerfully as they direct us to slow down just a little bit more. Bright orange signs warning us of upcoming road projects sprout along side the roads with the same abundance as blackberry bushes taking over the gardens. But this is a normal summertime event which we all just take in stride.
Driving also slows down because of the tractors and combines traveling from barn to field. Driving time increases as we become part of the parade of necessary farm implements some of which take up 1 ½ lanes so passing is impossible. John Deere green fills the view in front of us.
Oregon’s colors really are orange and green, but during the summer months that has nothing to do with the UofO Ducks and OSU Beavers. The ODOT road crews and John Deere machinery carry the Oregon colors for the summer.
Our driving also slows down during the summer. This has nothing to do with our attitudes of bliss. It’s because the road crews are out in force fixing up the potholes and tackling projects that weren’t possible during the rainy season. Flaggers wave cheerfully as they direct us to slow down just a little bit more. Bright orange signs warning us of upcoming road projects sprout along side the roads with the same abundance as blackberry bushes taking over the gardens. But this is a normal summertime event which we all just take in stride.
Driving also slows down because of the tractors and combines traveling from barn to field. Driving time increases as we become part of the parade of necessary farm implements some of which take up 1 ½ lanes so passing is impossible. John Deere green fills the view in front of us.
Oregon’s colors really are orange and green, but during the summer months that has nothing to do with the UofO Ducks and OSU Beavers. The ODOT road crews and John Deere machinery carry the Oregon colors for the summer.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
The Blessing Filter
I was thinking about how I live my life. I try to take care of the peopl
e around me, whoever that may be. I respond to clerks in the store, talk to gas station attendants, offer to get my office partner a cup of tea when I go to refresh my cup, and greet people when I pass them in the hallway. I like people! But it dawned on me recently that how I treat myself can be seen as a blessing, too. Let me explain. Not exercising and overeating inhibit my energy and wellness levels. I can’t interact as well with people, or take part in things as easily. So by taking care to exercise, and eat and drink properly I put aside a barrier that reduces my ability to participate in what’s going on around me, to invest in the people I care about.
Driving to work I have a choice to be hurried, tailgating and passing other people who are also trying to get to work, or I can bless the other drivers by giving them some space. Doing this calms me down which is a side blessing, and I’m pretty sure, even though they don’t know it is happening the other drivers appreciate not being pushed.
There are so many little things we do each day that can bless the people around us and, in turn, bless us.
* If you take the last cup of coffee at work, start a fresh pot. There’s nothing quite as nice as getting that first cup of freshly brewed coffee.
* If you like someone’s outfit, tell them. Or if you liked the presentation they gave in the meeting be gracious enough to say so.
* Don’t notice flubs. When someone does something blameworthy or even just plain stupid, chances are they already know it and don’t need constant reminders or gentle ribbing that they were a dork. Let things pass quietly.
* Let others talk. Ask them how they are, how things are at home, on the golf course, or at work. . . and then listen.
* Clean up after yourself in the little ways – like don’t leave the bathroom counter splattered with water, wipe out the microwave if your cocoa bubbles over, put the newspaper back together when you’ve finished reading it.
It’s not that every waking moment needs to be focused on being a blessing to someone, or tending to everyone’s needs, but when there are choices to be made, even those small choices, I think they should be made with this blessing filter. I know that when I purposely choose to take that one small extra step that I not only bless someone, some of the blessing will splash back onto me. And maybe, just maybe the world will be a better place even if only for that moment.
e around me, whoever that may be. I respond to clerks in the store, talk to gas station attendants, offer to get my office partner a cup of tea when I go to refresh my cup, and greet people when I pass them in the hallway. I like people! But it dawned on me recently that how I treat myself can be seen as a blessing, too. Let me explain. Not exercising and overeating inhibit my energy and wellness levels. I can’t interact as well with people, or take part in things as easily. So by taking care to exercise, and eat and drink properly I put aside a barrier that reduces my ability to participate in what’s going on around me, to invest in the people I care about.Driving to work I have a choice to be hurried, tailgating and passing other people who are also trying to get to work, or I can bless the other drivers by giving them some space. Doing this calms me down which is a side blessing, and I’m pretty sure, even though they don’t know it is happening the other drivers appreciate not being pushed.
There are so many little things we do each day that can bless the people around us and, in turn, bless us.
* If you take the last cup of coffee at work, start a fresh pot. There’s nothing quite as nice as getting that first cup of freshly brewed coffee.
* If you like someone’s outfit, tell them. Or if you liked the presentation they gave in the meeting be gracious enough to say so.
* Don’t notice flubs. When someone does something blameworthy or even just plain stupid, chances are they already know it and don’t need constant reminders or gentle ribbing that they were a dork. Let things pass quietly.
* Let others talk. Ask them how they are, how things are at home, on the golf course, or at work. . . and then listen.
* Clean up after yourself in the little ways – like don’t leave the bathroom counter splattered with water, wipe out the microwave if your cocoa bubbles over, put the newspaper back together when you’ve finished reading it.
It’s not that every waking moment needs to be focused on being a blessing to someone, or tending to everyone’s needs, but when there are choices to be made, even those small choices, I think they should be made with this blessing filter. I know that when I purposely choose to take that one small extra step that I not only bless someone, some of the blessing will splash back onto me. And maybe, just maybe the world will be a better place even if only for that moment.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
I got Lucky in Zambia
Traveling to Zambia was difficult. The boarder crossing in and of itself was a time laden – expensive - dusty - baboon filled (that’s another story) - waiting - passport stampi
ng event. The roads in Zambia were atrocious. Potholes half the size of our car dotted the road and were difficult to see in the dusky conditions. Jessica had a touch of food poisoning so wasn’t feeling well. People lined the streets walking to somewhere, or maybe it was from somewhere – it’s kind of hard to tell the difference. There were more people walking along this Zambia thoroughfare than I saw at the local Mardi gras parade when we lived in Louisiana. There were animals and children running all over the place. So traveling in the dusky (and dusty) conditions, weaving through the pothole slalom while dodging people, animals and children, well, let’s just say it was a white knuckle, hold – your - breath kind of a trip.
It was a very difficult day of traveling. As we were going through ramshackled check points, dodging people, navigating through all of the red tape and pot holes, one of us would make a comment followed by “knock on wood.” The problem was we didn’t have any wood to knock on in our white VW Polo so we made make-shift wooden knocks on the closest thing we could find like my journal since it was made from wood pulp. This would make us laugh and restore the mood in the car. It’s the little things that can change a mood, isn’t it?
The first day in Zambia I had an opportunity to visit a craft market while visiting Victoria Falls. I spoke with a talented carver named James. He was so proud of the animals he could carve from the roots of tree
s, pods and branches, and he spoke to me with such respect. His grandfather was with him in his cramped tented shop and he would play music on some percussion instrument. I enjoyed the music and hearing about the details from James, so I ended up buying a carved giraffe from him for about $7 US dollars.
When we left Zambia we had to navigate back over broken roads, drive through hordes of people and animals walking on the roadway again. Then Jessica said something followed by “knock on wood.” The frantic and joyful searching began for something close to wood when I remembered I had the giraffe I bought from James the previous day. I unwrapped the giraffe, and both Jessica and Kent knocked on him. We had a wonder trip back through Zambia, and an easy time passing all of the check points and boarder crossing. We all three decided then and there that it was our lucky chunk of wood we now had in the car, so we named the giraffe Lucky.
And that’s the story of how I got Lucky in Zambia.
ng event. The roads in Zambia were atrocious. Potholes half the size of our car dotted the road and were difficult to see in the dusky conditions. Jessica had a touch of food poisoning so wasn’t feeling well. People lined the streets walking to somewhere, or maybe it was from somewhere – it’s kind of hard to tell the difference. There were more people walking along this Zambia thoroughfare than I saw at the local Mardi gras parade when we lived in Louisiana. There were animals and children running all over the place. So traveling in the dusky (and dusty) conditions, weaving through the pothole slalom while dodging people, animals and children, well, let’s just say it was a white knuckle, hold – your - breath kind of a trip.It was a very difficult day of traveling. As we were going through ramshackled check points, dodging people, navigating through all of the red tape and pot holes, one of us would make a comment followed by “knock on wood.” The problem was we didn’t have any wood to knock on in our white VW Polo so we made make-shift wooden knocks on the closest thing we could find like my journal since it was made from wood pulp. This would make us laugh and restore the mood in the car. It’s the little things that can change a mood, isn’t it?
The first day in Zambia I had an opportunity to visit a craft market while visiting Victoria Falls. I spoke with a talented carver named James. He was so proud of the animals he could carve from the roots of tree
s, pods and branches, and he spoke to me with such respect. His grandfather was with him in his cramped tented shop and he would play music on some percussion instrument. I enjoyed the music and hearing about the details from James, so I ended up buying a carved giraffe from him for about $7 US dollars.When we left Zambia we had to navigate back over broken roads, drive through hordes of people and animals walking on the roadway again. Then Jessica said something followed by “knock on wood.” The frantic and joyful searching began for something close to wood when I remembered I had the giraffe I bought from James the previous day. I unwrapped the giraffe, and both Jessica and Kent knocked on him. We had a wonder trip back through Zambia, and an easy time passing all of the check points and boarder crossing. We all three decided then and there that it was our lucky chunk of wood we now had in the car, so we named the giraffe Lucky.
And that’s the story of how I got Lucky in Zambia.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Determining depths
Why do we long for things we don’t have?
Girls with curly hair wish for straight hair
Boys crave the prowess perceived in other males
Women envy smaller bodies, smooth skin, and contentment
Men want power over that one more last indefinable thing.
Can there be a suitable reason to explain these longings,
these cravings for things we don’t have?
Some are valid and important, yet other seems to be only surface things
although nonetheless important.
Why do we feel hunger beyond our current blessings?
Is what we have not enough?
Will nothing satisfy us?
Are we just one-dimensional spoiled people?
I think not.
I'm learning that we are so deep and complex
that as we learn about ourselves, as we grow,
other elements develop,
yearnings surface – maybe nostalgia,
parts of who we are that may have been lost
are rediscovered.
We grow
We learn
We crave to know more
be more
love more
be part of something more
And, tell me friend,
how can that be shallow?
Isn’t that the definition of deep?
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Things that made me smile this week
Things that made me smile this week:
1. Hearing my best friend laugh. She has the best laugh.
2. Lucy's reaction when I told her we were going for a walk. Wow! Such enthusiasm.
3. The "Welcome Back" sign on my office door.
4. My office partner, Carrie. She is sweet, brilliant and just AWESOME.
5. Finding out my nephew and his wife are going to have a baby.
6. Not having to take Maladrone anymore. That's the malaria medicine we needed in Africa.
7. Seeing the pale pink flowers on the blackberry bushes. That means blackberries are a-coming!
Love 'em.
8. Gorgeous shoes in my size on the clearance rack. Nice!
9. Hanging out with Daniel on Monday and Tuesday. I'm so comfortable with him.
10. Talking to my friends. I have great friends both new and old, and I love them all!
1. Hearing my best friend laugh. She has the best laugh.
2. Lucy's reaction when I told her we were going for a walk. Wow! Such enthusiasm.
3. The "Welcome Back" sign on my office door.
4. My office partner, Carrie. She is sweet, brilliant and just AWESOME.
5. Finding out my nephew and his wife are going to have a baby.
6. Not having to take Maladrone anymore. That's the malaria medicine we needed in Africa.
7. Seeing the pale pink flowers on the blackberry bushes. That means blackberries are a-coming!
Love 'em.
8. Gorgeous shoes in my size on the clearance rack. Nice!
9. Hanging out with Daniel on Monday and Tuesday. I'm so comfortable with him.
10. Talking to my friends. I have great friends both new and old, and I love them all!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
My Post on Jessica's Blog
May 27, 2009
Namibia is wonderful. Yes, the country is beautiful – majestic mountains, savannahs rich in color, deserts that go on forever, the ocean and coast line – truly, Namibia lives up to its name the Land of Contrasts.
But one of my core beliefs is that the people make the place and I can say wi
thout hesitation that the Namibian people are amazingly friendly, gracious, intelligent and accepting. They are such lovely people.
We rented a car in Windhoek, a VW Polo. Its nice, but the steering wheel is on the right and we are driving on the left side of the road which is a story for another blog post. Stopping at petrol stations is a treat. There are 4 to 6 attendants and when they see us turn into the stations, one will claim our car and start waving us to them. So much energy and great customer service – Oregon gas station attendants (well, attendant since there is usually only 1) can take notice. But, here’s a difference between cultures, Kent would say “fill up with regular” and the attendant would smile and say “good morning. How are you?” So Kent would have to stop and say “good morning. I am fine. How are you?” After the greeting, THEN we could get gasoline, along with all of the windows washed, the air in the tires checked, as well as fluid levels under the hood – now THAT is customer service. To be fair to Kent, this only happened once. He is a fast learner and now is a great greeter. And Kent has adapted quickly to driving on the left side of the road as well as negotiating check points and chatting with guards.
We have driven a long way in our short time here. We traveled the southern border to the northern border, then to the eastern border and into Zambia to see Victoria Falls, then all the way to the west coast. We’ve seen so much – animals, cultures, architecture, art, vistas. . . that it would do a disservice to try to explain it all in a single blog post. But there is one thing here in Namibia I will tell you about, the one major goal of my trip, and that was to be with Jessica. SHE is truly amazing. Her blog posts, as wonderful as they are (isn’t she a great writer?), don’t tell half of the story. Her strength and ingenuity, the way she communicates with the people here, the respect she has for herself, the culture, the school and the learners have left me in total awe. People ask me all of the time if I worry about her being in Africa. And, you know, I really don’t. I worried more about her driving up and down I-5 between home and school than I do here. And now that I’ve seen her here for myself, I’m even more sure and comfortable that she is in her element. She understands life and how to make wise choices and how to roll with the punches. AND, most importantly, she knows how to laugh.
Jessica and Jill decided to have a braai (BBQ) for us on Wednesday night – our last night in town. Jill’s parents just arrived in town. So Jessica and Jill bought a goat. Actually they arranged with Ginno to buy a goat for them. Well, Ginno bought the goat the day we arrived in Khorix
as which is 4 days before the braai. What does one do with a goat for 4 days? We have no pin. It can’t stay IN the flat with us. We can’t have it bleating for 4 days. SO Gino and his brother decided to slaughter the goat for us. Okay, good plan. Oh wait, what does one do with a slaughtered goat for 4 days? Jessica is the most resourceful person I’ve ever met. There was a moment of “OMG! I own a goat!” Then she started laughing at the situation while unpacking the small freezer she owns hoping a slaughtered goat will fit into the small compartment (it did). The actually slaughtering of the goat was not my favorite part of this trip, but the skill that Ginno’s brother showed was amazing. He is about 14 or 15 and very strong and knows his way around a goat. The payment for slaughtering a goat for someone is the innards and the head. I guess those are the best parts. I was asked if I ever ate goat intestines before. Apparently they are delicious. You know, I can honestly say that I have never been asked that question before, and I can honestly say that now and for every time in the future that I’m asked that question, the answer will be no.
So lets jump forward to Tuesday when it is time for us to take the frozen goat to have it sectioned at the local butchery shop. We could not get the goat or the container it was in out of the freezer. . . both were stuck. Kent took a knife and chopped the ice away from the edges to break the goat and container free. We were laughing at our situation. Then we drove into town to have the butcher cut the goat for us. But the goat was frozen to the container and wouldn’t budge. I’m pretty sure everyone in the butcher shop was laughing at us, but, oh well. We brought the goat home and left it on the kitchen floor to thaw. Then the electricity went out and we ended up sitting in candlelight and cell phone light with a frozen goat.
Cute side note: when the lights came back on we could hear the children in the dorms cheering. It was so adorable! I really love the children here.
The braai went off without a hitch. The food, meat and porridge, was delicious, children dancing, a soccer game on the TV, lots of people – a fun, fun party!
Kent, Jessica and I spent part of our time in Khorixas working on the library, Jessica’s library at the school. It is a nice place and you can see Jessica’s handiwork throughout the ro
om with the way she has organized the books, instructions she has posted, the card catalog with cards in her handwriting for each learner. However, the walls were peeling and the room just needed some brightening. So I picked out some bright paint colors – grass green, ocean blue and a sunny yellow, and we cleaned and painted the walls. It turned out very nice. We stenciled designs on the walls and hung curtains. The curtains we bought are shetangays – cut pieces of cloth that have multiple purposes from clothing, to wall coverings, to curtains, to whatever you need it to be. The shetangays we bought are red with green, yellow and blue star bursts. All of the colors we choose are colors from the Namibia flag and each color represents a part of Namibia. So even though we tried to make it bright and fun, we kept it educational and meaningful to the learners. It was awesome watching the learners and teachers come into the library seeing it for the first time. I sat with some kids looking at Ranger Rick magazines, showed some of the girls how I painted the flowers in the room, and spent time with a world map showing some of the boys where I live in relation to Khorixas. It was so fun. 
It will be hard to go back to Oregon. I love the way I feel here. My shoulders are loose here, my brain actually turns off at night, I can drink coffee without getting a sour stomach, I can sit and watch people, chickens, donkeys, goats, and/or scenery without having to do something else. . . this is all really good for me, a person who is constantly on the move multi-tasking. I hope to take this part of Namibia home with me. Well, that and about another thousand hugs from Jessica.
Namibia is wonderful. Yes, the country is beautiful – majestic mountains, savannahs rich in color, deserts that go on forever, the ocean and coast line – truly, Namibia lives up to its name the Land of Contrasts.
But one of my core beliefs is that the people make the place and I can say wi
thout hesitation that the Namibian people are amazingly friendly, gracious, intelligent and accepting. They are such lovely people.We rented a car in Windhoek, a VW Polo. Its nice, but the steering wheel is on the right and we are driving on the left side of the road which is a story for another blog post. Stopping at petrol stations is a treat. There are 4 to 6 attendants and when they see us turn into the stations, one will claim our car and start waving us to them. So much energy and great customer service – Oregon gas station attendants (well, attendant since there is usually only 1) can take notice. But, here’s a difference between cultures, Kent would say “fill up with regular” and the attendant would smile and say “good morning. How are you?” So Kent would have to stop and say “good morning. I am fine. How are you?” After the greeting, THEN we could get gasoline, along with all of the windows washed, the air in the tires checked, as well as fluid levels under the hood – now THAT is customer service. To be fair to Kent, this only happened once. He is a fast learner and now is a great greeter. And Kent has adapted quickly to driving on the left side of the road as well as negotiating check points and chatting with guards.
We have driven a long way in our short time here. We traveled the southern border to the northern border, then to the eastern border and into Zambia to see Victoria Falls, then all the way to the west coast. We’ve seen so much – animals, cultures, architecture, art, vistas. . . that it would do a disservice to try to explain it all in a single blog post. But there is one thing here in Namibia I will tell you about, the one major goal of my trip, and that was to be with Jessica. SHE is truly amazing. Her blog posts, as wonderful as they are (isn’t she a great writer?), don’t tell half of the story. Her strength and ingenuity, the way she communicates with the people here, the respect she has for herself, the culture, the school and the learners have left me in total awe. People ask me all of the time if I worry about her being in Africa. And, you know, I really don’t. I worried more about her driving up and down I-5 between home and school than I do here. And now that I’ve seen her here for myself, I’m even more sure and comfortable that she is in her element. She understands life and how to make wise choices and how to roll with the punches. AND, most importantly, she knows how to laugh.
Jessica and Jill decided to have a braai (BBQ) for us on Wednesday night – our last night in town. Jill’s parents just arrived in town. So Jessica and Jill bought a goat. Actually they arranged with Ginno to buy a goat for them. Well, Ginno bought the goat the day we arrived in Khorix
as which is 4 days before the braai. What does one do with a goat for 4 days? We have no pin. It can’t stay IN the flat with us. We can’t have it bleating for 4 days. SO Gino and his brother decided to slaughter the goat for us. Okay, good plan. Oh wait, what does one do with a slaughtered goat for 4 days? Jessica is the most resourceful person I’ve ever met. There was a moment of “OMG! I own a goat!” Then she started laughing at the situation while unpacking the small freezer she owns hoping a slaughtered goat will fit into the small compartment (it did). The actually slaughtering of the goat was not my favorite part of this trip, but the skill that Ginno’s brother showed was amazing. He is about 14 or 15 and very strong and knows his way around a goat. The payment for slaughtering a goat for someone is the innards and the head. I guess those are the best parts. I was asked if I ever ate goat intestines before. Apparently they are delicious. You know, I can honestly say that I have never been asked that question before, and I can honestly say that now and for every time in the future that I’m asked that question, the answer will be no.So lets jump forward to Tuesday when it is time for us to take the frozen goat to have it sectioned at the local butchery shop. We could not get the goat or the container it was in out of the freezer. . . both were stuck. Kent took a knife and chopped the ice away from the edges to break the goat and container free. We were laughing at our situation. Then we drove into town to have the butcher cut the goat for us. But the goat was frozen to the container and wouldn’t budge. I’m pretty sure everyone in the butcher shop was laughing at us, but, oh well. We brought the goat home and left it on the kitchen floor to thaw. Then the electricity went out and we ended up sitting in candlelight and cell phone light with a frozen goat.
Cute side note: when the lights came back on we could hear the children in the dorms cheering. It was so adorable! I really love the children here.
The braai went off without a hitch. The food, meat and porridge, was delicious, children dancing, a soccer game on the TV, lots of people – a fun, fun party!
Kent, Jessica and I spent part of our time in Khorixas working on the library, Jessica’s library at the school. It is a nice place and you can see Jessica’s handiwork throughout the ro
om with the way she has organized the books, instructions she has posted, the card catalog with cards in her handwriting for each learner. However, the walls were peeling and the room just needed some brightening. So I picked out some bright paint colors – grass green, ocean blue and a sunny yellow, and we cleaned and painted the walls. It turned out very nice. We stenciled designs on the walls and hung curtains. The curtains we bought are shetangays – cut pieces of cloth that have multiple purposes from clothing, to wall coverings, to curtains, to whatever you need it to be. The shetangays we bought are red with green, yellow and blue star bursts. All of the colors we choose are colors from the Namibia flag and each color represents a part of Namibia. So even though we tried to make it bright and fun, we kept it educational and meaningful to the learners. It was awesome watching the learners and teachers come into the library seeing it for the first time. I sat with some kids looking at Ranger Rick magazines, showed some of the girls how I painted the flowers in the room, and spent time with a world map showing some of the boys where I live in relation to Khorixas. It was so fun. 
It will be hard to go back to Oregon. I love the way I feel here. My shoulders are loose here, my brain actually turns off at night, I can drink coffee without getting a sour stomach, I can sit and watch people, chickens, donkeys, goats, and/or scenery without having to do something else. . . this is all really good for me, a person who is constantly on the move multi-tasking. I hope to take this part of Namibia home with me. Well, that and about another thousand hugs from Jessica.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Visiting Jessica
Today Kent and I are heading on a 3 week adventure to South Africa and Namibia to visit our daughter Jessica. She is serving in the Peace Corp is Khorixas Namibia and has been there over a year. She teaches in the school and runs the library among other duties as necessary. Here's a link to her blog: http://jessicalynnroyer.blogspot.com/.
We land in South Africa 30 hours after leaving Oregon. I have a few books to read that were suggested by a good friend, plus my journal and iPod to keep me company on the flight. We meet Jessica in Capetown on Saturday morning SA time (10 hours ahead of PCT). Our full itinerary is posted in my FB notes, so feel free to look there for more details.
Know that we won't be available online much, but will try to update and post pics as we go whenever we can. Whenever those times arise and we are on a real connected computer, know that we can see e-mail so please feel free to send e-mail via FB or one of our regular home addresses.
Thank you to Daniel for flying home from New Hampshire to house and dog sit for us. It makes leaving our home behind so much easier. Thanks to my friends at work who are covering for me - John, Julie, Carol, Michael, Kenyon and Fred. Oh, and thanks to Dr. Schindell for getting me the correct meds to clear this cough. AND thank you all for the prayers.
Well, there's not much time before we head for the airport. I better go pack my toothbrush.
See you all at the end of the month.
Hugs,
Linda
We land in South Africa 30 hours after leaving Oregon. I have a few books to read that were suggested by a good friend, plus my journal and iPod to keep me company on the flight. We meet Jessica in Capetown on Saturday morning SA time (10 hours ahead of PCT). Our full itinerary is posted in my FB notes, so feel free to look there for more details.
Know that we won't be available online much, but will try to update and post pics as we go whenever we can. Whenever those times arise and we are on a real connected computer, know that we can see e-mail so please feel free to send e-mail via FB or one of our regular home addresses.
Thank you to Daniel for flying home from New Hampshire to house and dog sit for us. It makes leaving our home behind so much easier. Thanks to my friends at work who are covering for me - John, Julie, Carol, Michael, Kenyon and Fred. Oh, and thanks to Dr. Schindell for getting me the correct meds to clear this cough. AND thank you all for the prayers.
Well, there's not much time before we head for the airport. I better go pack my toothbrush.
See you all at the end of the month.
Hugs,
Linda
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