It's A Beautiful Morning....

What follows are my musings of a wonderful morning spent in my back yard last week.

I sit in the back yard patio, surveying my surroundings. My second latte in hand with remnants of yesterdays activities with the grand kids around me - gloves and tools still strewn about on the table and the hose stretched across the yard.

The sun is peeking through the trees, a bunny feeds in the grass, birds are singing. Its a cool morning and all seems peaceful. It is cool enough that no one’s A/C unit is going on, so a few cars driving by is the only other noise. It’s a little piece of heaven for me...a private sanctuary just steps outside my back door.

I am prone towards feeling some guilt about all this enjoyment - actually, the opportunity to enjoy it since I am not working outside the home. If I accomplished more during my days, perhaps the guilt would not be so prevalent. It is not as if I sit around all day and watch soap operas while eating bon-bons.  In fact, because I am "free", and people know it there can be quite a few things on my daily schedule.  But still, in my mind because of my current “unemployed” state (I prefer the term “Kept Woman”) my house should be immaculate, a several course meal on the table every night and all the clothes starched and pressed. Ha! The reality is, the house is clean enough and Bill and I are never in dirty clothes - in fact I am quite good at keeping him supplied in fresh shirts, underwear, socks and pants. But there is a bit of clutter (especially in “under used” rooms) and plenty of meals are leftovers or thrown together (with lots of love of course) as in “what do you feel like eating tonight?”. The truth is I hate housework and always have, so even the bit I do accomplish is a great stretch for me. But I do love having a clean house and still dream of being decadent enough with money to hire a housekeeper.

But for now I just enjoy these times of peace and tranquility in this home God has blessed us with.  There were plenty of years I had little peace or time to enjoy things like this.  I remind myself I have been keeping house and raising children since I was 14, have held many jobs that were stressful enough and that Bill really likes having me home.  I cook often and we use our home to entertain all the time.  So, I put the guilt aside and embrace this peace and feel like God created this place just for me, because He really does love me.

I survey the freshly cut grass (thanks Gary) and see the sun shining on the day lilies, their buds reaching out towards the sky, waiting for the warmth of the sun to open them up so they can bloom for just one day. There are plenty there, so even though death comes quickly, more are waiting for their turn to burst open and assures the bright orange flowers will be visible for weeks to come.

The wild rose bush in the rock garden at the end of the yard blooms with red flowers, the mulberry tree behind it holds thousands of berries, to the right, along the fence the tomatoes are growing like crazy in the container garden, the onions my sister in law DeeAnn gave me many years ago thrive and continue to spread, Brown Eyed Susans are starting to bud and my hanging baskets and pots look pretty with the annuals I planted. I especially like the pot with the orange daisy like flowers with the purple centers. Even the “tree garden” to my left (named so because of the tall maple tree that grows in the middle of it) that seems to have lost it’s order is beautiful as it overflows with an array of plants : 2 kinds of ground cover (Bishops Weed from my sister in law Billie and another that I bought, but can never remember the name of - it gets beautiful purple flowers all over it), lavender in bloom, mint gone wild, chives, cone flowers, a sweetheart rose bush (a gift from Martha Byler after my mom died) the tallest Fox Glove I have ever seen, Snap Dragons and several potted plants placed on the wood beams that contain it all. Two of the pots are jasmine, which especially excites me as they are now forming buds with a promise of sweet scented white flowers. I love the color of a garden, but the smells...oh, they bring a special joy to my soul.  

One of the jasmine trees holds a very special place in my heart, as a couple years ago I thought I had lost it because all the leaves had fallen off and no sprouts were visible...it appeared lifeless.  I pulled it from it's pot and put it in a pile with other branches and yard debris at the end of the season.  There it remained through the winter and last year in the spring I cleaned up the area and lo and behold there were sprouts on the branches!  I scooped it up, re-potted it and it bloomed wonderfully that year and I took it inside for the winter.  It is a beautiful green with lots of new growth and those promising buds.  It is that wonder of nature I have written about before...what may appear dead to my limited human sight is yet alive and ready to be re-born.

Behind me, the patio is lined with pots that contain various herbs and a few more flowers: Basil, Rosemary, Thyme, Oregano, Chocolate mint and my favorite flower, “Heliotrope”. My favorite because it is so fragrant - like sweet vanilla oozing from its deep purple flowers. It’s an annual and some years it is hard to find, so last year I babied one plant through the winter indoors and am pleased that it survived and is now blooming. But one just won’t do, so two more pots are in the row with my herbs. I also backed it up with buying some Helioptrope seeds online, just in case...

The hose catches my eye again, and reminds me of yesterdays activities with the grand babies: A meal of pancakes on the grill (with fresh mulberries picked by their little hands) and bacon, then yard work with Grammy (encouraged by my promise of payment for labor) and then spraying each other with the above mentioned hose. Grammy even taught them part of a new song: “Don’t Eat The Yellow Snow” by Frank Zappa. I did this after a comment they made to me - they thought they were cute by saying something like...“Hey Grammy, did you know you shouldn’t eat yellow snow?” Now why they were thinking this in the middle of such a warm day, I don’t know, perhaps just wanting to tease me..but I was ready for them. I replied by singing “Watch out where the huskies go, don’t you eat that yellow snow”, a line from the Zappa song. They snickered and seemed impressed. Good times.

The sun is moving closer to me, but I still enjoy the shade and coolness of this morning. I go inside to grab seeds and fill my bird feeder, jealous of all the activity I see at my neighbor Noreen’s feeders. I have neglected mine and left it empty for several weeks now, so I am sure the birds will need some time to notice. Hopefully they will see it before the squirrels do. My next chore will be slathering the Shepperd's hook it hangs on with shortening, the only sure fire way I have found to keep the squirrels at bay. An added benefit of doing this is the fun of watching them try to get up the pole, only to slide down on the grease.

The bird bath is next to the feeder and seems always in need of more water.  Both the feeder and the bath are in view of the back window, where our cats sit in the family room.  The birds flying and squirrels running give them hours of pleasure and in turn gives us enjoyment as we watch them at the ready to pounce on anything that moves outside, out of their reach.  I especially love it when Isabella sees a bird that catches her fancy and lets out the little "clucking" sound a cat makes - "eh, eh, eh, eh" - when a bird excites them.

Summer has not even "officially" begun yet, but I know these mornings are numbered, and so I am quite adamant about spending time out here when the weather is so awesome.  There will be mornings when even early the humidity will be too much for me to really enjoy being outside and then of course the dreaded winter is just a few months ahead.  So this time is treasured, sacred and appreciated for the beauty and peace it holds.

It is already 8:30 and I need to think of going to Zumba class.  I pull myself away to pack up my computer and empty latte cup. Goodbye sweet haven...we will meet together again another day.

This Mother's Day...

I write a lot about the people in my life and have posted stories of individuals that were on my heart.  Really, it is just the tip of the iceberg, as there are so many in my life that move me and influence me, it will take the rest of my life to write of them all…which of course is my plan.

Right now, I am very moved as I think of my three children – Shay, Job and Anna.  I have talked about them in previous postings but want to go into more detail.  The idea for this started out as I began scanning old pictures of Shay to post on Facebook.  She wanted some pics of her as a child for a FB “look alike” week.  As a child, she resembled a young Natalie Wood and every Christmas when “Miracle on 34th Street” ran on TV, she was hit with “Did you know you look like that little girl in the Christmas movie?”   

                                Natalie

I started looking through my myriad of pictures stored in boxes and albums for pictures of Shay.  I had already begun sorting through them a few months before and had separated many of them into categories…individuals, family, events and such.  So, the biggest challenge of the task was already done – I knew where they were!

As I sorted through the hundreds of pictures, memory upon memory collected over the years began to surface and come alive.  Births, parties, outings, bad haircuts, poverty, friends, joy and sadness…several lifetimes strewn before me in a sea of moments caught on film.  All of them stored away in my heart and mind, but the pictures bring them all back, as if they just happened yesterday, instead of 30 years ago.  It made me think of my children and what having them has meant to me and how it has changed my life.

So on this Mother’s Day, I want to celebrate my children.

We talk of parents and the lasting impact on our lives – words from our childhood can either help or haunt us forever.  But I wonder sometimes if my children know how much they influence me and the impact they have on my life, even though all are grown.  There are way too many things to list in this format, but here are some things that are close to my heart.

Does Anna know I reach for my tin of “Rosebud Salve” to put on my lips before any other chapstick because she likes it so?  That every time I see the blue tin with the red letters I think of her in her apartment in Brooklyn, standing in front of her full length mirror, “Rosebud Salve” in hand saying to me “You have to try this  mom, I love it”, as she extends her arm, pointing the round tin toward me.  She repeated this several times on that visit until I finally said yes to the tin of pink “goo”, and as I apply it to my lips she is pleased and says “isn’t it great…I love  this stuff!”



And yes, I do like it, but bought it mainly because it makes me think of her.   Does she know that one of my favorite gifts ever was the green scarf she gave me several years ago, and that every time I wear it, I think of how thoughtful a gift it was since it is green (my favorite color) and I love long, wide scarves.  Sometimes I will put it about my shoulders just to think of her when I miss her being closer.


Does Job know that many times when I cook, I have him on my mind?  As I look through my recipe books or new magazines, I see recipes and I think “Job would love this” and that in him I feel I have finally found someone who truly appreciates my cooking.  Not that others don’t, but with Job, because he is a chef, a foodie and enjoys creating for himself – he “gets” it.  Does he know that when I call him up to ask his advice on a recipe or ask him to help me prepare something, I don’t do it just to humor him or make him feel good, but I do it because I respect him and totally trust what he says.  That when I tell him his bruschetta is the best I have EVER had, I do mean it.  Does he know how proud I am to cook with him for events or just a family dinner?  I tell him all the time, but I wonder if he really knows.


There are so many things I could say about how Shay impacts me...her caring for others, her mothering, her biting words when I consider a purchase that does not sit well with her (“And what are you going to use THAT for?”).  But because Shay is my firstborn, made the biggest impact at her birth…well, really at her conception - as the beginning of her was the end of many things in my life - which was a good thing.  Of course, she had no control over that, but I credit her just the same.  I cannot negate her influence even though she had no say in the matter.  And the impact of the beginning of her lasts to this day.   I gave birth to Shay, but she gave life to me.


Shay's story has been told on many occasions.  But it is a fine story and bears repeating.

What started out as something that seemed could only lead to disaster, became the defining moment of my life and put me on a path that led to greatness.  I gave birth to Shay at the age of 14.  In the day of 2010, not such a rarity, but in 1973 in my circle of peers, it was unheard of.

I was a damaged, broken girl when Shay’s dad Dave came into my life.  I was a glue sniffing, cigarette smoking 7th grader that went from a straight A student in grade school to flunking out in middle school.  I had little confidence and went with the “wave” of my friends….which at the time was skipping school and the afore mentioned smoking cigarettes and sniffing glue.  It is well known that sniffing glue destroys your brain cells and Shay’s dad credits himself with saving my brain, as he introduced me to marijuana - and with that new introduction I exchanged one drug for another and gave up sniffing glue.  I must agree with him on that one, because the after effects of weed versus glue - really glue was not what we were sniffing, our chemical of choice was lacquer thinner, but I digress - were significantly less.  And I needed all the brains I could muster for the days ahead.


There is much more involved in the telling of that story, but I just wanted to set the tone so you can get a feel for the significance the “beginning” of Shay had.  Two very messed up kids, 14 and 16, hooked up; having no idea of how to make wise decisions in their own lives, let alone a child’s.  

But from the moment I realized I was pregnant, something changed in me.   I am not sure of all the emotions I felt, but I know I experienced a rebirth of sorts.  My life seemed to have found purpose and I felt responsible for this new being immediately.  I was aware, even at 14, that anything I did from that point on would have an impact on this baby.  Now, I was scared shitless, but scared or not, I began to change.  I stopped smoking both cigarettes and weed…we both did, her father and I.  And we started making plans for this new life we had created.

I no longer looked at life through my eyes only, but began to think of life with a child.  A great sense of responsibility took over and I went into “protection” mode and wanted to make sure our child would be taken care of.  Dave started saving money from his job (he had quit school) and we were making plans.  Now, these plans were crazy, because they included running away (to avoid the wrath of my father) and Dave delivering the baby at home (which was to be in St. Louis), but they were PLANS nonetheless and we began thinking of someone other than ourselves.
 
We did end up running away (what some refer to as “The Wilderness Story”), but I skip forward to her birth, which thankfully occurred safe and sound in a hospital in South Bend, Indiana (not St. Louis) after we were married.  She came out so fast after just one push in the delivery room that the doctor almost did not catch her and that really set the tone for her life. Shay always makes an exciting entrance and impact!
I wonder if Shay knows that her opinion is very important to me.  I trust the way I raised her and know that she has good sense and good instincts.  Does she know that I think of how she saved my life almost every day and I am grateful?  That even though the birth of her was the end of my “childhood”, but I really don’t mind and have never regretted it?  That the sweetness of her spirit was evident from the moment of her birth and that it encouraged me daily.

Of course, I have told my kids many of these things.  But sometimes people really don’t grasp or even believe it when they are told they changed someone’s life.  They just think you are being “nice” or telling them what they want to hear.  If my kids know me at all, they know that this is not my way…the word “nice” is not in the bible and I feel no compulsion to be nice for the sake of being nice.  I pretty much say what I mean and mean what I say.  So these words are true and they are heartfelt.

I honestly feel that if I never did anything else in my life from this point on, I would have no regrets because so much of my life has been spent raising my children.  Of course, I have a million things left I want to accomplish, but I am just saying that if some calamity came and took me from this earth, I know that I have walked out an eternity changing life by raising my three kids.  I have never felt anything was more important to do than that. 
  

Starting out having kids so young was a very interesting experience.  We definitely had to make some things up as we went along, since “How To Raise A Child” was not in our reading list at that point!  We were both strict and lenient at the same time, since we were teenagers and the desire for freedom was very strong in us, yet we also both drew on our upbringing to discipline.  

Add to that the element that we both accepted Jesus not long after we got married and you have a very interesting mix of 70’s Hippie/Jesus/Josh McDowell going on.  I thank God that Shay was my first because she was pretty easy going and helped keep the door open to want more kids because of our experience with her.

We truly settled into family life.  I learned how to cook and bake so we would not starve, but was never very adept at housekeeping.  When Shay was a year or so, we purchased our own home and decided to expand our family and Job was born.  Having a very active boy was a different experience from the “girly girl” Shay was and we became familiar with emergency rooms to get stitches and mend broken bones.  

One of Job’s favorite things to do was imitate
“The Incredible Hulk”.  He would go around the house stomping and roar, then rip open the front of the K-Mart purchased, flannel button down shirts he wore and buttons would fly.  I baby sat for a cute little girl at the time and she would run and hide screaming “Don’t kill me Hulk, don’t kill me!”  I knew when I heard it another shirt had bit the dust.

As I mentioned, Shay seemed the perfect child and was sweet and minded pretty well.  I just thought she could do no wrong…until kindergarten.  All of a sudden my image was shattered when she lied to me.  For some reason she decided she no longer wanted to go to school and told me one morning that school had been canceled.  Knowing this was not the case, I gave her several chances to “fess up” and tell the truth.  I went so far as to walk over to the phone and say “I am going to call your teacher right now and ask her”, very confident that this would stir the truth and she would confess the error of her ways.  No go.  She stood there firm, and said, “OK”, calling my bluff.  I had to put the scare tactics aside and just say straight up I knew she was lying and that she in fact did have school that day.  I think the issue was a little girl that was bullying her and she was afraid.  Shay was just barely 5 years old and very small.  Thinking that some big girl bully was harassing her caused mother bear to rise up inside and so I walked her to school (yes, there was a time when schools were within walking distance of your home) and had Shay point her out.  I just knew it was going to be some huge girl that had probably repeated kindergarten and was taking it out on my little baby.

I was surprised when Shay pointed to this little girl, no bigger than Shay who for some reason decided to use Shay as her anger outlet.  Being the young zealous Christian, I walked up to the girl and introduced myself and explained that people are not made to hit and be mean to, but to love and show kindness.  I talked firmly but lovingly to her and she listened, stone faced and not seeming to care.  I walked away thinking that it was probably a waste of time and hoping she would leave Shay alone.  Not long after that, I chaperoned a field trip with Shay’s class and guess who did not leave my side the whole trip?  That little girl…her face no longer a stone, but was smiling.  She held my hand all day and fell asleep on my lap on the bus ride back to school.  It was a lesson I have never forgotten…people respond to love and attention.

Shay grew into a loving, caring woman and all through her school years befriended the friendless.  On several occasions she brought home the stray soul, the young girl that no one else liked and needed to have a friend.  I have always loved that about her.

Job grew out of his “hulk” stage, but kept the superhero heart.  He was a very sensitive young boy and like Shay, had a heart for those who needed help.  On more than one occasion he stood up for someone who was being bullied by his classmates.  One of these times, when he was in the second grade, he was hurt badly by a mentally disturbed girl that had been held back more than once and was a lot bigger than even the boys in the class.  He stood up for someone she was bullying (throwing rocks at I believe) and she decided to throw him to the ground and strangle him.  The incident left him bruised in body and soul.  I had a teacher tell me that the girl was so strong that she could not physically restrain her alone.  Thankfully, it was the last day for the troubled young girl at that school.

Job’s desire to cook came pretty young and one year he decided to surprise me by making dinner.  I believe it was ravioli with wine sauce…the only problem was we had no wine, only rum and because it was a surprise, he did not want to ask 

 any questions. So, thinking alcohol is alcohol, he substituted the rum for the wine and proudly presented his meal to me.  It was quite a taste that creamy rum sauce, but being the proud mommy I ate it and smiled the whole way through.  And today those efforts paid off as he can cook like nobody else and makes some of the most delicious meals I have ever eaten.

Anna was born when Shay and Job where older – Shay was 11 and Job was 8.  They were excited about having a new baby and Shay quickly became her second mommy.  Anna’s beginning started with difficulty, something I wrote about in a previous post entitled “Queen Anna”.  She was very ill in her early childhood and she was small.  This inspired Shay one Halloween to dress her up to make her look like a “Raggedy Ann” doll and then set her on a shelf in her room among her other dolls and took her picture. Unfortunately, the only copy  I found was a bad one, but you get the idea.  I was always being asked if she was a "preemie".  Funny, as she has grown taller than both Shay and I!
  
It is amazing the impact that children have on your life always, not just when they are young.  Even though all of mine are grown (36, 33 and 25) they still influence my decisions and choices.  And, even though they are grown, they still remain my children.  Don’t get me wrong, they are adults, but there are times when they still look through the eyes of a child and expect “parental” behavior from me.

About 11 years ago, after their dad and I got divorced and Bill and I began dating this fact became clearer than ever.  Shay was newly married and 24, Job was living on his own and 22 and Anna 14 and still at home.  The divorce was probably hardest on her since she was the only one left at home and had only herself to commiserate with. So, her dislike of me dating (and then planning a marriage) was very understandable to me.  I was not prepared for Shay and Job’s dislike of it however.

So, after I heard through the “grapevine” that my kids were not happy (a good friend who had the sense to tell me the truth) I decided to sit my kids down, just “us” and let them rip…I wanted to hear exactly what they were upset about.

Turns out that they were still hurting over the divorce and really did not understand why it happened at all.  What was painfully obvious to me in my marriage (constant fighting, totally different goals and directions, a husband that was not thrilled about being married to me – just to name a few) they were oblivious to.  I made the mistake of thinking that because Shay and Job were “grown”, that they looked at it through adult eyes.  But as a wise friend told me at the time “No matter how old the child, they still look at you through the eyes of a child”.  So, to them, the bickering and such were business as usual.  As Job said to me in that sit down session “It was always that way”.  So, while I finally got fed up with it, they had grown accustom to it.  This is not to say they liked it that way, it was just the way things were.

Allowing them to be honest was hard, especially Shay; she has her mothers “way” and her cutting was the deepest as her words were sharp and to the point - she had some very strong opinions on this recent engagement.  With the help of God’s grace, I sat there, listening without too much protest, reliving once again the pain of divorce, which I honestly have to say I was quite pleased to forget, or at the very least put aside...something I had been able to do with the new love that had entered my life through Bill.  I was in love and giddy with it all…I really did not want to think anymore about the pain of the past.  The words they spoke brought me back down to earth and the reality of the world through their eyes…that was a very different perspective.  So, once again, my “mommy” genes had to kick in. 

The guilt, the sense of failure, feeling responsible for causing my children pain – it all flooded back in as I listened to their side.  There were so many unanswered questions for them.  So, together, we went through the divorce, why it happened, how it happened and so forth.  Information we had tried to protect them from came out and it helped to shed light I believe.  In the end, Job paid me the greatest compliment I ever got I think by saying something like “Hey mom, I have made a lot of mistakes in my life but things always seem to work out for you, so I think you know what you are doing”.  In that statement I think he was saying he respected me…and that means a lot.  In a very short time they accepted Bill, love him and he has added to their life and they have added to his.

 

And as much as I love my children and wanted them to accept my marriage to Bill, if our “sit down” did not change their views, I still would have married him.  Because while raising them has been one of my greatest accomplishments, it is just that, something that has been accomplished.  I was not seeking their approval for my marriage, but wanted to hear why they were opposed and try to bring understanding.  Thank God it worked.  We are never “done” being parents, but our focus changes. I raised them to be responsible, caring and able to make their own decisions as adults.  I was walking out what I had taught them.  They had begun their own lives that did not depend on mommy.  After raising kids for 25 years, mommy was now beginning a life that did not depend on her kids.  It included them, but was not centered around them any longer.  I had begun to look to my future, without kids at home, realizing that in a short time, my nest would be empty and theirs was just beginning to fill.

It’s the double edge of being a parent…you parent your children with the purpose of preparing them to be on their own and be able to care for themselves.  You love them with all your heart just to let them go.  Children have the same challenge…one day their parents will (hopefully) decide that raising kids is not their primary purpose any longer and may move away, start new careers, go back to school.  We love each other enough to let go to be able to walk out the adventure that is our life.

Investing in someone’s life is one of the reasons we are placed here on earth.  We bring glory to our Creator through our love, care and commitment to His creation.  He entrusts us with the power to create offspring and if we are wise, we realize just how grand that is.  I say again, that if I do nothing else in this lifetime, I am assured that I have changed the world and invested in the future by what I have in my children.  I have taught them that to love is to live, that as a parent there are times you put your needs aside to give your children what they need, that to discipline them is to love them, that life isn’t always fair and when it isn’t look for the higher road and that in their lives they have the power to change another’s life.

Our family has been broken, mended, blended and expanded.  It's never been easy, but has always been an adventure.  We have our disagreements at times, but we get over them quickly and have learned we don't always have to see things the same way. We love, enjoy and respect each other.  Life goes forward and the next generation begun.  I am fortunate to be alive and well to witness it.

So, this Mother’s Day, 2010 I say to my kids I love you. When you become parents, you understand the depth of this love. I am so proud of you all and not only love you with a mother’s love, but I like you.  You are fun to be with and I enjoy your company.  I admire each of you and know that the world is a better place because of your lives.  Your ideas, thoughts and dreams are a part of me and important to me.  I chime in with my opinion when I think it might be helpful and try to keep my mouth shut when I sense it is best to do so.  And even though you are all grown, on your own and well able to take care of yourselves, I would fight anyone or anything to the death to protect you from harm. 

Hopefully you understand some of the challenges your parents went through and look back and can say we did our best.  Many mistakes made, that is a fact.  But I don’t regret it, laugh at much of it and treasure all of it.

Love,
Mommy

A Change Is Coming....

I am a big believer in seasons, change, starting new, contemplating things past, planning for what the future holds.  Birthdays are especially thoughtful times for me, but the end of the year brings the most “deep thinking”.  I take time to reflect on the year passed.  Mainly I wonder if I have changed and did I bring about any change in others?  I am hoping that the year just passed finds me farther along in my journey of purpose and being who and what I am meant to be.

It’s that “end” of things that gets me going.  Outside plants have gone to sleep till spring, inside we try to complete all we can in our personal lives and in business before the end of the year.  We must get things done before December is done and the year “ends”. Somehow, completing something by December 31st gives us a special feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction.    January 1st is more than a date on the calendar, it is the beginning of a 12 month span of time, 365 days that are yet to be.  It is a measure that most of the world recognizes as significant and plans their lives around. 

That’s one of the things I like about years...because we note their beginning and ending, it means each one can be different. Because something ends, it brings a chance that something new will begin.   Last year I felt we were to leave much behind in 2008.  This year I sense expansion.  Each year can bring a shift, change, fresh start, new beginnings, leaving behind...all that.  If God’s mercies are new every morning, I have 365 to look forward to!

I’m not a big resolution person, although I do like to write down my hopes for the new year.  Years ago some girlfriends started a tradition of going to “Cracker Barrel” on January 1st and we would have breakfast and grill each other about what we wanted the new year to bring.  I use the word grill, because we were not allowed to just state “lose 10 pounds,” “pray more,” “make a million dollars” and such.  No, we had to have purpose,  meaning and honesty behind our hopes and if you came to the table with the generic statements above, you were put in the hot seat and prodded for more.  EVERYBODY wants those things...what we wanted to establish was what did YOU want, specific to your life, your loves, your interests, your purpose.  HOW are you going to make a million dollars for example.

We would write these things down and some years we were pretty good at reminding each other of our goals.  The next year we would bring them back to Cracker Barrel, check our progress and start all over again.  Cracker Barrel became not just a place to eat, but a spiritual experience for us; it was not so much the place, the building and such, but what went on when we gathered there.

We started out with just 3 or 4 of us, and some years grew to 10 or more.  Sometimes those new to “the group” were a little taken aback by our seriousness in prodding and not letting them get away with “I just want to do God’s will” line.  If you did not want to share something real and heartfelt, you had no place in this group. We were in your face and not apologetic for it.

Whenever I run across those lists, it brings these women to mind.  Many of the goals shared have come to pass, some have not.  But the sharing of our hearts certainly affected us.  The declarations made were real and the saying of them brought weight and power to the thought.  One woman determined that either her marriage would get better, or it would end.  One declared her art would come to life, or be put to rest.  One was sure marriage would be a part of the coming year.  In the sharing of these things, we took to heart what was the desire of our sisters.  Prayer and encouragement followed as we tried to keep track of each others status.  Some years we were better at it than others.

Our yearly meetings at Cracker Barrel have become a kind of altar in our lives.  Not a place of worship, but a place of remembrance.  Changes were made, ideas birthed, declarations proclaimed.  We had agreed that in the coming year we would accomplish something special.  Our meal together signified our unity in purpose and agreement to be accountable to each other.  To know that there were others who loved us, agreed with us and supported us gave our hearts power...power to believe, to change, to dare.  Even if all our proclamations did not come to pass, we were better for hoping for them and reaching for more.

As I look back on 2009 I find myself in places I never thought I would be.  Without a “formal” church, relationships I thought would last forever severed.  But in that pruning and cutting I have found that sometimes it’s a good thing that people leave our lives and that true church happens outside of the walls of a building. 

So, what change for 2010?  As I said, I sense expansion.  The past few years have been ones of things “going away”...it is now time to rebuild, add.  The forest seems to have been cleared a bit to actually see and appreciate the trees and perhaps do some building.  What does that mean?  Not sure yet, I just hope the “pruning” is done for a while ‘cause my branches are a little sore from the cutting!

Whatever is in store, I know it will include people and relationships.  If there is one thing I have learned in my 51 years walking on this earth is that God is all about people coming together, relationships and fellowship.  Whether you like it or not, you need me - and I need you.

Cake Stories....

Here are two recipes that some of you have requested.  Of course, I had to include the stories behind them.  Enjoy!

The first recipe is for Caramel Cake.  My introduction to this delightful piece of sweetness was almost 20 years ago while I was on staff at my church.  One of my fellow staffers, Glendar Haskin, shared my love of sweets.  She knew of a local bakery that made a caramel cake that she raved about, and one day she got a taste for it.  Her description of the wonder of this cake got me hooked.  She called the bakery and they would only sell it in a sheet cake, which cost about $20.  Neither of us had much money to spare, but we bought the cake with the hope that the rest of the staff (most of them shared our sugar addiction) would be willing to donate to support our habit and buy pieces of the cake.

We took a road trip to the bakery, brought the cake back to the church office and we shared the "spiritual" experience of this cake...it was delicious!  The cake was tender and moist, yet solid...the indicators of a homemade cake.  The butter and caramel taste just "oozed" out of it, helped along by the delicious caramel frosting.  The frosting was soft and creamy and smelled of perfectly blended brown sugar and butter.  I had never had anything like it.  I had made my own cakes for years, but had never made one like this.  I was hooked.

Our co-workers flocked toward us to join in our delight and gladly put up the $1.00 we charged for each piece.  We had no problem recouping our investment and probably wished it had not been so popular.

The next time we got the "urge" for this cake we were devastated to find the bakery had closed.  What to do?!  My quest for the perfect caramel cake began and after much trial and error, I have ended up combining two recipes, which you will find below.  The first one I found while searching the Internet.  It's called "Fran's Funeral Cake" and I was intrigued by the description of it by Fran's daughter (who posted the recipe).  She said "Theres a tradition in the South of taking lots of food to mourning relatives when someone dies.  We call this funeral cake because Mom, ever prepared for the hand of God, always has one in the freezer to take to the newly bereaved!"

It is wonderful both in cake and frosting, but the cake is really a pound cake consistency and sometimes I want something a little lighter.  So, now I use Fran's frosting and a cake recipe called "Brown Sugar Caramel Cake" from the magazine "Taste of the South".

FRAN'S FUNERAL CAKE

2 sticks butter or margarine

1/2 cup shortening

2 cups brown sugar

1 cup white sugar

6 eggs

1 cup milk

3 cups flour

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp vanilla

1 tsp almond extract

Preheat over to 325 degrees.  Cream shortening, butter and sugar.  Add eggs one at a time, beating after each.  Mix flour, baking pwd and salt.  Add flour mixture alternately with milk, beginning and ending with flour.  Stir in flavorings.  Grease and flour a large tube or bundt pan, or two 9 inch round pans.  Pour batter into prepared pan(s).  Depending on pan used, bake for 30 minutes to an hour or so (tube pan will take longer).  Cool about 15 minutes before removing from pan.

BROWN SUGAR FROSTING

Combine 1 stick butter or margarine and 1 cup brown sugar in heavy saucepan.  Boil hard for about 1 minute.  Add 1/2 cup milk, whisking to keep from separating.  Boil 2 minutes.  Cool.  Then beat in 3-4 cups confectioners sugar.  You may need more depending on how cool your syrup is and how thick you want the frosting.  When using a tube or bundt pan, I like to make it thinner.  It will thicken up when completely cool.  Spread on cooled cake.

CARAMEL CAKE #2  (Lighter version)

Ingredients

   1. 2 cups all-purpose flour

   2. 1 teaspoon baking powder

   3. 1 teaspoon salt

   4. 3/4 teaspoon baking soda

   5. 2 cups firmly packed light brown sugar

   6. 4 large eggs

   7. 3/4 cup vegetable oil

   8. 1/2 cup buttermilk

   9. 1/2 cup sour cream (I also use yogurt)

  10. 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  11. 1 teaspoon maple extract (I used a TBL of real maple syrup)

 

Directions

   1. Preheat oven to 350°. Spray 2 (9-inch) round cake pans with baking spray with flour. Line with parchment-paper rounds. (I just spray the pans and sprinkle with flour) Spray parchment rounds. Set aside.

 

   2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, salt, and baking soda. Set aside.

  

   3. In a mixing bowl, beat brown sugar and eggs at medium-high speed with an electric mixer until smooth, approximately 3 minutes. Add oil and beat until combined. Set aside.

  

   4. In a small bowl, whisk together buttermilk, sour cream, and extracts.

  

   5. Add flour mixture to brown-sugar mixture, alternating with milk mixture in 3 batches and beating well between additions. Pour batter into prepared pans, smoothing tops.

  

   6. Bake until a wooden pick inserted near the center comes out clean, approximately 30 minutes. Let cakes cool in pans for 20 minutes. Remove to wire racks to cool completely.

The second recipe is for a cake I call "Miss Ceilie's Chocolate Cherry Torte".  We used to serve it in our cafe, "The Peaberry" and it is my husband Bill's absolute favorite cake ever.  It too is a combined recipe.  The frosting is from my dear friend Ceil.  My friend Marce and I used to visit her when she lived in Ann Arbor several years ago.  Her home was a retreat for the weary and wayword soul and she always had great wine and food.  One visit she made this delightful cake and she graciously shared the recipe.  It used a mix for the cake, but the frosting was homemade and a decadant, fudgy dream.  The filling is canned pie filling and I always promise myself that one day I will make my own cherry filling, but have not as yet.

The cake recipe I use is from Hershey and I love it because it is so easy, yet the best chocolate cake I have ever had.  Be sure to use a good cocoa and feel free to add more to taste.  Bill likes really dark chocolate, so I usually add a little extra and cut back on the sugar a bit.

This cake is beautiful to serve with the red cherries against the dark chocolate cake.  Be sure to refrigerate left overs, as the frosting has egg yolks in it.  If you get really adventurous, add a little rum to the frosting...mm mm good!

MISS CEILIE'S CHOCOLATE CHERRY TORTE

Cake

2 cups sugar (I like to use a little less to intensify the chocolate flavor)

2 cups flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 1/2 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

2 eggs

3/4 cup cocoa (feel free to add a little extra if you like dark chocolate)

1 cup milk

1 cup canola oil

1 tsp vanilla

1 cup boiling water (I NEVER use a whole cup, more like 3/4 of a cup)

Frosting

1 cup butter, room temperature

4 1/2 cups confectioner sugar (a little more or less, depending on your preference)

3/4 cup cocoa

3 egg yolks

A little milk or water to thin frosting out

1 can cherry pie filling (I use light)

Heat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease and flour two 9 inch round cake pans.

In large mixer bowl, stir together sugar, flour, cocoa, baking pwd, baking soda and salt.  Add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla.  Beat on medium speed of mixer for 2 minutes.

Remove mixer, stir in boiling water (I only use about 3/4 of a cup).  If using the whole cup, batter will be thin. Pour into prepared pans.  Bake for 25-35 minutes, testing with a toothpick.

Cool for 15 minutes or so, and remove from pans.

Frosting

Combine butter, confectioner sugar and cocoa.  Beat with mixer, add egg yolks and beat till smooth, adding a little water or milk, just a TBL or two at a time, until of spreading consitency.  Beat till fluffy.

To Assemble cake:

Place one cooled layer on plate and spread with frosting, creating a 1/2 inch border around the edge (helps to hold in the cherries).  Carefully spread the cherry pie filling on top of frosting, being sure to reserve 10 cherries for garnish (I like to spoon out the cherries into another bowl, leaving off most of the pie filling "goo" before spreading onto the frosting).  Top with remaining layer and frost.  To garnish, you can used some shaved chocolate and then garnish each piece with a cherry.

   

Haters....

I wrote this piece because I was so disturbed by what I see many in the body of Christ use as an excuse for hiding their "true" selves from people...haters. I had heard it just one too many times in finding out news about people I had shared my life with for years, then finding out from someone else news that should have been shared personally with those that loved them.

Others must share my sentiment, because at poetry events, it is my most requested piece.

HATERS

Haters, Haters everywhere…Haters, Haters, I don’t care!

I am sick of hearing about haters as if they are a threat
Why worry what they say; why do we break a sweat?

We talk about the haters and the damage that they wield
The only damage I can see is when we choose to conceal

Afraid that news of what you do will be out on the street
The bad news and the good news to yourself you keep

You keep things under wraps, afraid the haters just might hear
Since when do things of darkness cause people of God to fear?

Concealing all your business because you are afraid
But was keeping out the haters worth the price you’ve paid?

Behind your guarded gate, you’ve locked out lovers as well
Because you choose to hide yourself behind a darkened veil

Those that love and care are hurt and dismayed
What happened to all those years together, the prayers that were prayed?

The faith that said we can overcome anything
Seeing that faith snuffed away brings quite a sting

Locking out the lovers for fear of those who hate
Keeps transparency behind that guarded gate

My God is mightier than any hater’s words
He alone will choose my fate, He will be my guard

Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me
We forget the lessons learned as early as the nursery

I cut my teeth on adversity, scandal and hard times
Having my first child at 14 wasn’t considered sublime

My divorce and remarriage created quite a stir
Causing some peoples vision to temporarily blur

I can’t say it doesn’t hurt me that people act up so
But I won’t shut out my friends because I worry about a foe

The word says the power of life and death is held in our tongue
I believe life trumps the death of the hating one

Whatever you focus on is magnified the man of God has said
So why focus on the haters and what they choose to spread?

Haters haters everywhere; haters haters I don’t care!

Why focus on the haters when lovers are the key?
Haters only want to bind, but lovers set us free

Free to be honest, real, who we truly are
With this kind love and freedom we don’t have to be a liar

Can’t you see the lovers just waiting for your call?
People who reach out to you, even when you fall

Lovers who long to share in your pain, triumphs and joys
Yet you choose to keep them away with elaborate ploys

Some say I’m a hater because I make my thoughts known
I say come back and see me when your mind has grown

Haters, Haters everywhere…Haters, Haters, I don’t care!

 

Falling Off...

I write a lot about seasons, nature and the beauty of creation. They speak to me and add so much to my life. As we go into the next season, it once again teaches and inspires me.

Burning Bush (with just a corner of the Frank Lloyd Wright house behind us)

Autumn has arrived and fills the air with its presence. The crispness of the breeze, the drizzle of the rain. Leaves beginning to turn from green to orange, amber and red. Just the very top of my “Burning Bush” is starting its dramatic change from plain green to bright red, making me look twice out my window whenever it catches my eye. The seed pods on the Magnolia tree are turning “orangey red” and at times looks like there are cardinal ornaments hung all over my tree.

Leaves have begun to fall to the ground, emptying the trees of their clothing, leaving them naked and exposed. The bare branches appearing dead and lifeless, yet reaching up, reaching out with very little left to make a sound when the wind blows.

Magnolia Seed Pods

Autumn is all about the falling off of things, shedding what was once supple, bright and colorful but with the passing of time and changing of seasons will become dry and brittle. Huge trees that provided refuge with all the foliage, now bare, no place for anything to hide in the branches...one must burrow inside to find shelter. My plants that once were green and full get pruned of the seasons growth to ready them for next spring.

This season brings the smell of those fallen, crisp leaves as they crunch under your feet as you walk down the block or gather them in your arms to bag them. I can’t resist giving them a squeeze as I shove them in the bag, allowing the release of the last bit of themselves, the battle over for another year. Never another leaf like them, a new batch already in the making on the tree they just left.

Each day is a surprise, wondering if the sun will shine, will there be frost on the ground...will there be an Indian Summer? Jackets are pulled out of storage, mittens not far behind. Gratefulness whenever we get a warm day. Knowing that you should pull in those plants on that sunny day, but at the same time fooled by its warmth, you think there is going to be another chance. Then that fateful morning when you see the hard frost has come and that plant you were going to nurse through the winter inside the house has succumbed to the weather.

Today I picked my last rose of the season and placed it in my grandma's vase, sniffing it with each pass through the dining room. The tomatoes are slowing down in their maturation, only 1 or 2 a week, instead of a day. Will that squash ever get ripe enough to eat? Can I get one more batch of pesto out of my basil before it’s done?

My last rose of 2009

It’s now October and October brings November and November brings December and then the dreaded January and the foreverness of February and March...oh, but I get ahead of myself, this is only autumn.


I can’t stop thinking about the falling part of this season...so impressive is it we call it “Fall”. The leaves float off the trees when the breeze blows or they are tousled about in a whirlwind tornado as the gusts of wind come. If left undisturbed on the ground, as in the forest, they return vital nutrients to the soil that help the next generation of growth. It seems that is what this season is all about, letting go, stripping bare, clearing away...but first, one last hurrah of color and activity, then silence, dormancy, rest.

Creeper vine of color

In the spirit of fall and releasing of the old, Bill and I have taken time to go though stuff, getting rid of things, putting order to what was chaos throughout the house, paying special attention to our basement. There is more to do for sure, and we trudge on, hoping to clear more clutter. But thankfully we have begun. It’s amazing how holding onto “stuff” keeps you from moving forward and doing things, stunting your growth. If the old leaves keep hanging on, how will the new ones ever appear? 

Lets talk about the basement. I have wanted a new washer and dryer for a long time...but the clutter in the basement would have made it impossible to get through to remove the old and deliver the new. The task of sorting and cleaning and getting rid of things seemed so monumental and overwhelming...yet NOT doing anything made my life so much harder. Seeing the mess every time I went down there, using a washer and dryer that were clearly past their prime (which made washing and drying clothes even more of a chore). But actually taking the time to clean up changed so many things and was well worth the effort. Clearing the basement out made a path to make my life easier: 1) New washer and dryer 2) A smile on my face instead of a frown when I look at the newly ordered surroundings 3) Knowing where things are instead of having to look through mayhem to find something. And best of all... the great portion of my brain that got freed up knowing that this task was finally done! It inspired me to do more so I cleaned out two closets and two dressers...amazing.

Yahoo!!

Sometimes it is a struggle to actually get rid of or throw something out. I surely have things that I would rather hold onto, and my husband comes from a long line of “keepers". But I find that so much “stuff” only encumbers me, weighs me down. Again, the lessons of nature speak to me, inspire me. It can be a sad thing to see the leaves fall and die, and often it's a cold wind that blows those leaves off the tree. As we were cleaning, more than once the harsh words “What are you keeping that for!?!” were uttered as we pushed each other to let things go.

Hard to give things up...there is an empty space where once was something of value, memories, familiar things. But, it’s only for a time, life goes on, seasons change and new things come. Sometimes we like having more room with a clearer view. Sometimes we find something else to take the place of the old. But for sure if we stay stagnant, never allowing for the plucking out, the pruning and the seeding of new, we will wither and cease to bear fruit. It’s the cycle of life...I can fight it, or agree with it. History proves who will win.