Ho ho ho ... ly moly!

This may be the first Christmas Eve in recorded history that I'm not going out for last-minute shopping. Woo-hoo!

Today is all about wrapping and baking and getting in the spirit-ing.

Since once again I've not sent out cards (but have soooo selfishly enjoyed the beautiful cards we've received), I wanted to be sure to share my prayer for today: May you be surrounded by the peace, hope and joy of Christmas!

Apparently, I'm older than Jesus

Ashton: How old is the Wizard of Oz movie?

Lizz: I think it was done in the 1930s ... that's before I was born ... and even way before Aunt Nancy was born.

Ashton: Was it before Jesus was born?

Clickety clickety oatmeal

More trencadis tiling - Sagrada Familia roof.

Those are the search terms someone from Helsinki, Finland, used to end up at Shiny Things.

I'm sorry to disappoint. I have nothing to say about oatmeal today. And maybe because clickety clackety is what I do all week at work I haven't had much to say here for a while. I felt bad for being a slacker and thought I'd see if I'd been getting any visitors ... and was amused by some of the search terms that landed people here.

Oh boy. I'm cozied up with a cup of tea and my laptop with the hypnotic sloosh-sloosh of the dishwasher in the background ... it is going to be really hard not to take a nap on this dreary day. I did venture out earlier to watch the boys play hockey. I'm especially glad I did because Sammy got his first goal and I was there to see it! And also, I was there for the obligatory sweaty head rub. I know it sounds gross, but it's what they do after a game. It made me feel special.

And then I did a teensy bit of Christmas shopping. So that made me feel a little productive. Then I got a chili at Wendy's and went over to Target, where I sat in the parking lot eating my chili and watching 23405987457957245720 shoppers zooming all about. Ick. I decided not to go in the store and came home.

I guess there's not a whole lot to report today. However, I did want to add a postscript to my last blog entry.

Some of you already know that less than one week after I answered the door when my doorbell rang at 4 a.m. that there was a fatal shooting not far from where I live. In that case, it was 2:30 a.m. and there was a knock on the door. The young man who went to answer it was shot eight times through the closed door. Sad does not even begin to describe how I feel for his family and friends. According to everything I've seen in the news, there are no suspects in the case. A talented, much-loved young man now gone. Such a shame. And chilling.

Ding dong

Sagrada Familia, 2005

Only my doorbell is more like "Ding dong ding DONG, dong ding DING DONG."

At 4 this morning I was awakened from a really sound sleep all snuggled in my flannel sheets to this. I stumbled out of bed, grabbed my bathrobe and headed to the door and just as I got to the window to peek out, he did it AGAIN.

In the brief moment before I opened the door, it flashed through my mind that the story I'd been writing for my writing group was coming true. And maybe, just maybe, I shouldn't open the door.

But I did.

He wasn't wielding an axe or a chainsaw and was instantly apologetic when he saw me and knew he was at the wrong house. Apologizing repeatedly, he went down the steps and headed in the direction I pointed.

I hope he found the house he was looking for, and that someone there was awake and expecting a friendly ding dong.

Giving thanks

Trencadis tile bench at Parc Güell, Barcelona

It's gloomy and gray and cold and drizzly outside. But soon the pie-baking will resume and the house will fill with the warm and spicy smells of apple and pumpkin, vanilla, cinnamon and nutmeg ...

Last night, I relinquished the making of DJ's chocolate pie to Lizz. I hovered and coached while she made the most beautiful, perfect pie crusts. I was the sous chef, fetching ingredients and utensils and washing dishes while she reminded me that my job was to lead by encouragement and example.

Even though I'm trying to get used to being the only human in this house most of the time, it's so easy and right to fall into our old routines when the college kid comes home. Earlier in the day, when I got home from work, it wasn't even a surprise to find a girl-sized lump huddled in my bed. She said she'd first gone in there to snuggle with Claudette and then fell asleep. I climbed in and a myriad of topics wove in and out of our dialogue as she texted back and forth with a friend and I checked on the progress of an artist back at the office finishing up a project we had to get out last night. Dinner was veggie pizza eaten while I proofread and Lizz checked e-mail, asking every now and then, "Are you done yet?"

When the work was done, we shoved pizza boxes and computers out of the way to make room for a few rounds of Skip-Bo, procrastinating on starting the pie project. Speaking of procrastination and pie ... I'd better share some thankful thoughts so I can go get the master baker out of bed and we can get back to work!

I am thankful for my brilliant, beautiful, loving daughter. I'm thankful for her presence in my life and for the person she is and the gifts she shares with so many.

I cannot think back on this year without feeling extreme gratitude for my dear sister and brother-in-law, who adopted me for two whole months while I recovered from my broken ankle.

I am thankful for all of my family and friends - near and far.

I am thankful for quiet moments to enjoy strong, hot coffee with a stripey cat purring under my elbow while I bask in the blessings of a generous, loving God.

Flannel sheets. Can I be thankful for flannel sheets? And monkey pants?

Rain. And sun. And the farmers who make growing our food their livelihood. I'm thankful for them.

I'm thankful for pie. That I got the pie-making gene from my grandmothers and seem to have passed it to my daughter. It's our traditional contribution to the Thanksgiving feast, and we take it seriously.

So with all of this talk of pie, you'd think I'd embellish today's post with a picture of, well, pie, right? Yes, that would make sense. But I chose the trencadis tile bench because the beautiful mosaic of broken tiles reminded me that there is beauty and there are blessings even in the broken parts of our lives. I know today is not a happy day of feasting and family fun for everyone. There is hunger. And sickness. And loneliness. My prayer for today: that our hearts will overflow with gratitude that touches and transforms all within our reach. Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm thankful for ...

Last year, I asked my readers to share their thankful thoughts and I posted a list on Thanksgiving morning. I think that's a good tradition to continue!

So tune in here tomorrow, where we'll be thankful together. Shall we say around 9:30 a.m.?

Today I'm especially thankful for shortened work days and long holiday weekends ...

P.S. In looking back at the posts of that Thanksgiving week, I'm reminded that I never delivered on the pie award to Annnonymous. Hint: Now might be a good time to collect on that pie. I'll be baking tonight and most of tomorrow before heading over to my sister's for turkey in the late afternoon.

OMG. LMAO. TGIF. TTFN.

Wish I was here

It's only Day 12 and I know I'm boring y'all stiff. Sorry. I've been suffering from major brain depletion.

So, here are a few links from my Twitter feed to keep you occupied.

By the way, Roger Ebert seems to tweet about every 10 minutes. How in the world does he have time to watch movies, let alone write reviews? I wonder if he has a guest tweeter. And I wanted to link to the photo in need of caption from 10/23 but the link appears to be broken. Ugh. So no Roger Ebert links. But trust me: He tweets all. the. time.

Making Perfect Pies
Eco-Friendly Cigarettes
World's Weirdest Wines
More Hyperboleandahalf Craziness

Plus, not on Twitter, but still very amusing and worth a look: The Hilarious Goat Farm Story (LMAO)

TGIF

126+ reasons to procrastinate

I've given up on sorting the book list. Alphabetically is the best I can do ... because I wanted to post it sometime tonight. I thought about pulling out the children's books. And the cookbooks. And the Oxford Unabridged Dictionary.

But really I love the mix of titles. The range of interests my friends have. You'll see some duplicates with my list. Some of my friends included the author's names. I thought that was helpful so I left them in. 

Of this list of 126 books/series I think I counted about 33 that I've read.

So my next reads? Hmmm. 

Interpreter of Maladies and Cellist of Sarajevo for sure. And I guess I'd better read the other two Stieg Larsson books since I finished Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Then we'll just have to see.

1. 1984
2. 9 Stories
3. A Cure For Gravity (Joe Jackson)
4. A Thousand Acres (Jane Smiley)
5. Advise and Consent (Allen Drury)
6. All Quiet on the Western Front
7. All The President's Men (Carl Bernstein & Bob Woodward)
8. Amityville Horror
9. Andersonville
10. Anne of Green Gables x 2
11. Another Roadside Attraction (Tom Robbins)
12. Aunt Dimity Mysteries
13. Awed to Heaven, Rooted to Earth (Walter Brueggemann)
14. Ball's Blue Book of Canning
15. Beloved (Toni Morrison)
16. Bird by Bird
17. Bobbsey Twins Series
18. Brave New World
19. Bridge to Terabithia x 2
20. Cannery Row
21. Cat's Cradle (Kurt Vonnegut)
22. Cat's Eye (Margaret Atwood) 
23. Catcher in the Rye
24. Cellist of Sarajevo (Stephen Galloway) x 2
25. Dakota (Kathleen Norris)
26. Dangerous Wonder
27. Dear Dumb Diary Series
28. Dune (Frank Herbert)
29. East of Eden
30. Equus (Peter Schaffer)
31. Evening Class
32. Exodus (Leon Uris)
33. Express Lane Cookbook
34. Flatland (E. A. Abbott)
35. Flowers for Algernon
36. Freaky Friday
37. Gone With The Wind x 3
38. Hardy Boys Series
39. Harriet the Spy
40. Harry Potter Series x 4
41. Having Our Say
42. Henry's Sisters
43. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
44. Huckleberry Finn
45. If Grace is True
46. If You Give a Mouse A Cookie (Laura Numeroff)
47. Interpreter of Maladies (Jumpa Lahiri)
48. Jane Eyre
49. Jitterbug Perfume (Tom Robbins)
50. Johnny Tremain
51. Jonathan Livingston Seagull
52. Kim (Rudyard Kipling?)
53. Let Your Life Speak - Parker Palmer
54. Little Women
55. Living a Beautiful Life
56. Lost Moon (Jim Lovell & Jeffrey Kluger)
57. Mark of the Lion Series (Francine Rivers)
58. Memoirs of a Mangy Lover (Groucho Marx)
59. Messy Spirituality
60. Mistress of Mellyn
61. Nancy Drew Series x 2
62. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest
63. One Man's Initiation: 1917 (John Dos Passos)
64. Oxford Unabridged Dictionary
65. Packing for Mars
66. Pastcal's Wager
67. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
68. Programming Perl (Larry Wall & Randall L Schwartz)
69. Riding the Bus with my Sister
70. Roots (Alex Haley)
71. Running with Scissors
72. Savage Inequalities
73. Selected Poems (Langston Hughes)
74. Sense and Sensibility (Jane Austen)
75. Seventh Scroll
76. Siddhartha (Hermann Hesse)
77. Slaughterhouse Five (Kurt Vonnegut)
78. Stuart Little  (E.B. White)
79. Summer of My German Soldier
80. The Artist's Way
81. The Bible  x 4
82. The Book of Ruth (Jane Hamilton)
83. The Bourne Identity
84. The Catcher in the Rye
85. The Cuckoo's Egg - Clifford Stoll
86. The Enchanted Broccoli Forest
87. The Farm Journal Cookbook
88. The Glass Castle (Jeannette Walls) x 2
89. The God Particle (Leon Lederman)
90. The Godbearing Life (Kenda Creasy Dean)
91. The Grapes of Wrath

92. The Great Gatsby
93. The Help
94. The History of Love (Nicole Krauss)
95. The Hobbit
96. The Lorax (Dr. Seuss)
97. The Lord of the Flies x 2
98. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
99. The Scarlet Pimpernel
100. The Shining
101. The Shipping News (E. Annie Proulx)
102. The Soul of Politics (Jim Wallis)
103. The Sound and the Fury (William Faulkner)
104. The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down
105. The Stephanie Plum Series (Janet Evanovich)
106. The Teddy Bear Habit
107. The Wasteland (T.S. Eliot)
108. The Water Is Wide (Pat Conroy)
109. The World is Flat (Thomas Friedman)
110. The Year of Living Biblically
111. Three Cups of Tea
112. To Bathe A Boa (C. Imbior Kudrna)
113. To Infinity and Beyond (Eli Maor)
114. To Kill a Mockingbird x 3
115. Trixie Belden Series
116. Unchristian
117. Ursula Under x 2
118. Vanity Fair (William M. Thackeray)
119. Watership Down
120. Where the Wild Things Are
121. Why Christian (Douglas John Hall)
122. Wizard's First Rule Series (Terry Goodkind)
123. Working With Emotional Intelligence
124. Yellow Book of Fairy Tales
125. Yosemite and the Range of Light (Ansel Adams)
126. Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance - Robert Pirsig x 2

Sorting things out

All righty. I only got one response in the comments section to my "influential books" question yesterday but am tallying that with the ones I got on Facebook. I got as far as putting all the books in one giant list and now I have to organize. I'll have the list ship-shape tomorrow.

Claudette is obsessed with LICKING things lately. My sheets. Sweaters. Blankets. The carpet. Grocery bags. Furniture. I wake up to the raspy sound of her lick-lick-licking. WHY?

Reading List!

Y'all really seem to like lists. Why is that?

In her Sunday night post, my friend Deb mentioned the 15 books in 15 minutes activity a bunch of us on Facebook engaged in a week or so ago. Another friend invited me to participate in a 15 authors in 15 minutes challenge, which I still need to respond to.

Knowing that a lot of the people I care about aren't on Facebook, I thought I'd offer this up here. I'll put together some sort of table to collect responses so we'll all have a nice tidy reading list for the winter!

Here are "the rules":
Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. First fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes. (On Facebook you tag 15 friends and post a note or a comment or whatever.)

In no particular order, here are mine:

1. Ursula Under
2. Little Women
3. Where the Wild Things Are
4. Bird by Bird
5. The Bible
6. Messy Spirituality
7. Dangerous Wonder
8. Anne of Green Gables
9. Gone With the Wind
10. The Enchanted Broccoli Forest
11. Riding the Bus with my Sister
12. Pascal's Wager
13. Any of the Harry Potter series
14. Having Our Say
15. Three Cups of Tea

Random List Monday

Hey, Hawee, I tink we need a caption.

I'm going to take a tiny break from the 19750475092475209874597 chapters of the tale of my French adventures. My shiny ramblings are bad enough without subjecting you to my "oh look, a chicken!" writing process. I hope to have the post in shape by the weekend. If I don't have to bring work home again. We'll see. No promises.

So that means I have to do something else in this space today. I'm thinking it's time for a random list.

I. The time change messes me up. It's only 8:30 as I write this and I'm ready for bed. When did I get so old?

II. I'm finally reading Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

III. I just finished The Geography of Bliss.

IV. I wish I could get paid for reading. And watching movies.

V. I got my hairs cut last week. I wonder if Edna will stop by to see if I write about her again.

VI. Claudette is sitting in the sink. I'm really not sure why.

VII. Cheeseburger Doritos are YUMMY. You can taste the ketchup, mustard and pickle. I may or may not have purchased a bag at the grocery store.

VIII. My friend MBG has started a new blog called Laundry First. You should check it out.

LXXXIV. Put the pedal adapter things on the clipless pedals on my Cannondale hybrid. I learned when I was working on my bike last month that the adapter things I bought a zillion years ago will never fit on those pedals. So I'm going to change this item on my list to:  Dust off Cannondale hybrid and take it for a ride ... and then cross it off the list! That's allowed, right? Of course it is. It's my list.

Gotta go. Stieg Larsson is calling. Happy Monday!

Catharsis?

 Wow. I was so distracted by my coffee machine crisis yesterday that I forgot to add a headline to the post. I just went back and added one.

My trusty Krups kicked out - Lizz and I are estimating - close to 1,000 pots of coffee over the past 26 months or so. It decided to go on strike yesterday - on the grounds that it perceived the water reservoir was empty. I spent all morning trying to fix it and finally gave up and went to Mack-a-donalds as Misty would say. Then last night was hang-out-with-big-sister time, so she helped me select a new coffee machine and then we went out to eat.

The basement is turning into a mausoleum for formerly functioning appliances that I can't bear to toss in a landfill. I'm sure some handy person can revive the plethora of coffee machines, blenders, mini fridge, toaster, etc.

The good news is that I found my journal Friday night. I re-checked a basket I'd collected a bunch of papers and stuff in and there it was, at the bottom.

Gosh. Who knows what I'll write about tomorrow? I apologize for dragging this out so long.

Define "Express"

All righty then. So as I was saying, we picked up our car at Sants (Estació del Sants) and headed out of Barcelona mid-morning. I think we had arrived at the station before 9, so I guess I learned to allow lots of time for paperwork processing when picking up a car. In Spain.

I thought the French border was only about 18 miles north of Barcelona, but as I look at my map now and Google it, I'm seeing that it's a bit farther. I don't remember the trip to the border taking 2 hours. I'm pretty sure we took the expressway: the N11. Getting to the N11 was a tad hazardous, but we held our collective breath and off we went.

I was very surprised at the lack of security at the border. It seems there was a customs station but nobody stopped us. We just breezed right across. Our first stop was a rest area, where I was alarmed to discover the toilet seats were missing. That made for an interesting experience.

I'm sorry to drag this out. I really am. But I'm having a coffee machine crisis. Well, at least we're over the border, eh?

We interrupt this journey ...

This is what my brain feels like today: veggie lasagna with a side of Mediterranean vegetables. Blurred.

I'll continue the long and winding road tonight. If I have any brain matter left.

TGIF!

OK, a winding road ...

In case you were wondering, it's about 1,230 miles to Percé, Québec, and 1,393 miles to Sanibel Island. I'm not sure, but I think Percé may be where my dad and I went to see an old woodcarver and his wife in 1983. And where we ordered burgers with oignons in a restaurant where not a drop of English was spoken. A story for another day ...

As I was saying yesterday, J and I decided to spend a couple of days in France. We had no plan so we met with Josu, Nacho and César, the guides assigned to our group, to see how we could go about getting a car and to get some ideas of things to do.

Ugh. I really wish I had my dang journal. Where is that thing? Anyway, Nacho made arrangements for a car rental and sent us to the train station to pick it up. While we were waiting for the paperwork to be completed, I found a lovely Michelin map - in Catalan - of France. We got our little Citroën, and - oh my God - I never thought we'd make it out of Barcelona.

Yeah, you're probably thinking that too. Because I have to go get ready for work now.

On the road to Carcassonne

I hate it when I lose things. I spent over an hour last night looking for my travel journal. Now I'm going to have to rely on my memory to tell this story.

Let's see how far I can get in 20 minutes.

Gotta stay on task.

I'm listening to NPR and Sarah Palin's name keeps coming up and whenever the reporter says 'caucus' I swear it sounds like 'carcass.'

Oh yeah. Focus.

I've mentioned a few times that I went to Europe in 2005. It was part of a choir trip to Barcelona. I was about to turn 39 for the first time and I figured it was time - way past time. I had wanted to travel the world ever since I was a young girl but the farthest I had ever been from home at that point was probably the far eastern part of the Gaspé Peninsula. Or maybe Sanibel Island. I'm actually not sure which was farther. I should look that up.

Anyway, I guess I can't tell the story honestly without mentioning that I went on the trip with the man I had been dating for over a year - J, whom I met during a relatively short stint singing Alto in our church choir.

Oh geez. I have four minutes before I have to jump in the shower.

So there we were in Spain in the early winter of 2005. After completing our choral performance schedule, we could finally make plans to go to France for a couple of days. I could have spent weeks, months, years exploring Barcelona and the surrounding area, but we had just 10 days. And there was no way I could not travel the short distance to the French border to see what there was to see ...

An auberge!

My favorite time of day AND leftover apple pie. Yum. It's like the day after Thanksgiving. Except I have to go to work shortly. So I can't linger over pie and then go back to sleep. But that's OK. If I got to do what I wanted every day, it wouldn't be special, right?

So ... yesterday's photo ... a friend called me last night to ask what it was. It is kind of an odd photo, isn't it?   I totally meant to ask the proprietors of Auberge du Balestié what was up with the horseshoe hanging on the stable. I figured there was some really interesting story behind it. But I never got around to asking. I think I completely forgot until we were back on the road to Carcassonne.

Doesn't the photo below look sooo French? I don't even know if that outbuilding is still there. 

According to the Web site for l'Auberge, the Alletts have continued to make the renovations still in the planning stages at the time I visited over five years ago. Over a bottle of 2003 Château Parazols-Bertron Minervois,  David Allett told a delightful story of how he and his wife left their life in England to move to a somewhat remote area in the Pyrenées. The story of how we came upon their auberge is rather cool - at least I thought so - and I've been wanting to write about it for more than five years.

Dang. Gotta get ready for work now.

An auspicious start

Why? 

 This is my favorite time of the morning. Not the actual time, that is. Ideally I would not be up before 7. Ever. But whatever time I have to get up, I try to allow space for those still, quiet moments before the day really starts. When I can grab a fresh, hot cup of strong coffee and huddle back in bed with my laptop to check e-mails and news feeds, and, on the best days, contemplate the wide open possibilities of a blog post.

On this first day of November I'm thinking about journeys. Travels real and imagined, near and far. I have no idea where this thinking will take us. But for fun, I'll start with France.

à demain!

Hallowed Thoughts

Hakko Harry and ittle Zizzie. ca 1992.

What "should" people of faith think about Halloween?

Do you think about Halloween … or to you is it just a fun time to dress up and carve pumpkins and tell ghost stories?

Since becoming a Christian (something I did relatively late in life, in my early 30s), I’ve struggled with reconciling my faith with the observance of Halloween – the second most celebrated holiday after Christmas. The struggle has been internal, as I continued to dress up and take my daughter trick-or-treating and to delight at seeing small children dressed up as superheroes and bumblebees and monkeys and the like.

One year, our youth group organized a party at the church. We learned, though, that even with our central location, we’re not in the best spot for trick-or-treating. Our church is situated on an island with little or no foot traffic. The approach to our front door from the parking lot is long and very very dark. But a few dozen people participated, and we handed out candy and little cards with a Bible verse and invitation to services and upcoming events. At the time we thought perhaps we’d do a drive-through trunk-and-treat activity in future years.

Some of my Christian friends are firm in the belief that Halloween cannot be reconciled with our call to be disciples of Jesus Christ. To them, there is no compromise. I respect that and feel rather wishy-washy in comparison with my own personal response. But I do agree that as thoughtful Christians, we should know what we are celebrating. So I’ve done a little more research and a little more thinking every year and still have yet to take a firm stand.

My eyes were opened a little wider last year when I attended the youth program at another church here in Saginaw on Oct. 30. In addition to hearing the pastor’s testimony about why he refuses to observe Halloween (stemming back to terrifying childhood memories of being chased in a part of Cuba where children were hunted for human sacrifice), I learned that there are people right here in our community TODAY who associate this time of year with fear – real fear – not fun.

Some of the youth testified that their parents and otherwise trusted adults in their lives were involved in devil worship, and Halloween is prime recruiting time. Most were frightened of the violence in their neighborhoods that escalates at this time of year. Rather than fond memories of dressing up and parties and trick-or-treating, they associate October 31 with hiding in the dark and praying that their homes are not destroyed. And I think most shocking to me was that they were praying for the souls of loved ones who choose darkness over light. This was heavy, heavy stuff.

I met young people with a very different understanding of developing a relationship with Jesus Christ. They possessed a heightened sense of urgency about accepting the Lord of Light and rejecting the forces of darkness. After listening to and praying with those young people, I remember feeling my conscience pricked for being not just wishy-washy about Halloween but wishy-washy in my faith.

So this year, All Hallows’ Eve falls on a Sunday. The Lord’s Day. It’s a good time to contemplate where faith and observance of the holiday intersect.

Here are some links I found with a lot of good reading on the subject:

http://www.religionlink.com/topic_101028.php

http://www.christianitytoday.com/16017

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2000/octoberweb-only/42.0.html

http://www.religioustolerance.org/hallo_ev.htm

http://www.cbn.com/spirituallife/OnlineDiscipleship/Halloween/halloween_Watt05.aspx

http://www.christiananswers.net/q-eden/halloween.html

Relevant scripture

(a handy list from one of the articles above; I encourage you to read the scripture, consider the context, and discern the relevance in your life)

1 Thessalonians 5:21-22

James 1:27

3 John 1:11

Romans 12:9

Deuteronomy 18:9-14

Ephesians 5:11-12

1 Timothy 4:1

1 Corinthians 10:21

2 Corinthians 6:14-17

Philippians 4:8

1 Corinthians 11:1

1 Corinthians 10:31

James 4:7-8

Ezekiel 44:23

Proverbs 22:6

Matthew 18:6

Hosea 4:6

John 3:19-20

Romans 13:12

Ephesians 6:11-18

1 John 5:19

2 Chronicles 7:14

Misty Hit the Big Time

The Great Cornholio looking for T.P. in my office.

My friend Misty just launched her own Web site yesterday: Mistyislosingit.com. In our short time working together, Misty introduced me to or inspired me to explore lots of new experiences.

Like Cornholio. I've led such a sheltered life.

Anyway, gwan over and check out Misty's new place.

Irony

 I likes to take stuff apart.

I don't iron very often. Wrinkly things are mostly fine with me. Besides, turning on an iron in my house can potentially be dangerous.

Many years ago, when I was in high school I think, my dad (shown in the photo at about age 3 or 4 I'm guessing) "fixed" our iron. After the fixing we could never turn it off so had to unplug it. I think Dad may have similarly fixed our toaster around that time. So I adopted what is actually a good safety habit of unplugging appliances immediately after use.

But for some reason last night I plugged in my iron, fully intending to iron a pair of khakis and then my mind wandered off to some other activity and I turned off the light and went upstairs, completely forgetting the intention to iron! A good half-hour later, I was sitting here, tap-tap-tapping on my computer, trying to get a head start on an assignment for my writing group and I suddenly remembered the iron. Alarmed, I sniffed the air while running downstairs, where I discovered the iron was warm, but not hot. It didn't turn itself off but at least wasn't burning a hole through the ironing board.

Domestic goddess that I am, I kind of suck at ironing anyway. And now I'm hungry for toast.

Thoughts on clutter, version 1.0

Clutter connector on my fridge

Bare refrigerators scare me. Or rather, I don't understand the mind of someone who can leave naked this wide-open canvas of possibility.

The fridge is my ever-evolving gallery of important photos and clever sayings and reminders and artwork. An impressive array of magnets connects all this flotsam and jetsam. The "Out of clutter ..." magnet is one of my favorites.

I have a tendency toward clutter. Those who know me well would probably call that an understatement. To a great degree, I've come to realize that it's a genetic affliction. But there are distinctive ways it manifests in my life.

Another one of those ponderings I'm just scratching the surface of. To start, I'd like to find the context in which Einstein said these words. I just did a quick Google search and found this associated with a lot of "work" quotes. Can anyone help me out?

In the meantime, we're headed off to Sunday School. We've been working on painting Bible verses on the walls of our youth room. Now, those are the words I really need to connect the parts of my life.

Clickety clackety ... we're bonding

Are you a tweeter?

I woke up this morning to the joyous sounds of Claudette gakking up her insides in some undisclosed location. That's always a nice way to start the day.

So I dragged myself out of the flannel sheets and went through the morning routine of filling her food dish (so she could, you know, do it again), turning up the heat and then scouting out all the usual locations ... the library, living room, hallway, dining room ... nada. Damn. That means when I least expect it later today I'm bound to slip on it and have even more mess to clean up or else another time soon I'll just stub my toe on petrified cat gak.

Thanks, Claudette.

It wasn't my intention to talk about cat gak today. It was just top of mind.

I'm sorry for not posting yesterday. Once again, I ran out of time in the morning and then after work I zipped down to Ann Arbor to get Lizz. And instead of going to some gastronomically amazing, but amazingly high-priced, place for dinner, Lizz treated me to baked macaroni and cheese, green beans and brownies in her apartment. What a treat! And then we drove home, unloaded the car, got into our jammies, jumped into my bed, pulled out our laptops and proceeded to bond.

In the old days, this would have meant pulling out whatever books we were reading at the time. We still do that, too. As I'm reading along, I snort when I come across something funny or ridiculous or whatever. If it's profound or thought-provoking, it might be a "hmmmm" or a "huh."

Lizz: "ye-es?"

Me: "ba!"

Lizz: "OK. Now you gotta share."

And I read her a sentence or a passage and we discuss and then we go back to enjoying our individual reading material until one of us produces some noise that brings us back together again. Usually it's me.

So this is what we did last night, only we were both checking and responding to e-mails - clicketyclacketyclicketyclackety - "Oh!" I'd say as I remembered something I'd wanted to share. 

And I'd interrupt her clicketyclacketing.  How does she ever live without me while at school?

I commented that I had a new follower on Twitter. I showed her my Twitter page (@NancyJustWrite). I'd avoided Twitter for a long time even though I'd set up an account long ago, I only recently started tweeting. Lizz is not a tweeter. But I showed her the people and organizations I was following.

Clickety clackety.

Then I remembered that Kay sent me a link to this funny site the other day ... it reminded me of My Milk Toof and a little of The Oatmeal and maybe a little of Rhymes With Orange. I'd made a mental note that I wanted to share it with Lizz so I said, "You have to check this out!"

And together we clicked on over to Hyperboleandahalf and proceeded to snort and guffaw as we read the main page stories together and then clicked on all the other little boxes, snorting and sniffling at all the funny bits. 

Just like old times. The reading, the sharing, the being together goes on until my eyes glaze over and I begin to feel the pumpkin time come. At which point, Lizz takes my reading material and turns off the lights and tucks me in and goes upstairs to her own cozy bed.

Clickety clackety snooze ...

In the pink

Everything's rosy

I've just discovered that I can edit/add effects to my Picasa photos in  something called Picnic. The little notes that come up while things are loading and opening and saving and whatevering are almost as fun as the ones on the ThinkGeek Web site that tell you that trained monkeys are calculating your order.

I think it was comedienne Rita Rudner who described  the experience of getting a mammogram as being  a little like lying down on the garage floor and asking someone to kindly drive over one of your breasts. I had my first mammogram a few years ago, and thought it was indeed a little like that.

Still, in her pinkness, Claudette wants to remind you to schedule your mammogram today.

Post-haste

What did you learn today?

I was almost not going to post anything today because I woke up late-ish this morning and didn't have time to write and then I figured it was just too late but I just checked SiteMeter and see that 16 people stopped by and now I feel really bad that I didn't have anything new for y'all to read.

I'm sorry. And I was trying so hard.

This is my dad, back in his teaching days. Some nice student must've written the "Smile" bit on the board. I'm guessing it was a girl because it looks like girlish writing, don't you think? Dad was an industrial arts (wood shop, metal shop, architectural drawing) teacher, and this photo was probably taken in the late 60s or early 70s so I think it's cool that there were girls in the class.

Every night at the dinner table, Dad would ask us what we learned at school. You were never allowed to say "nothing."

I know I learned new things at work today but I think it all spilled out while we were doing inverted poses in yoga tonight. Oops. However, I did learn that there's a gas station and a fee-free ATM very near to the office when I went out to lunch.

I know. That was totally worth waiting all day to hear about.

Friendly mountain

Montserrat, Spain. View from the monastery.

On my way to work yesterday, it was very very dark. That had to be wrong, I thought. I called Share to see if I'd missed announcement of a time change.

"What am I doing? I'm wearing big-girl pants and driving to work in the dark!" I yelled into the phone.

She LAUGHED at me.

Highlights of first day at new job:

• Eight e-mails waiting for me - wow!
• Really nice people - LOTS of them and some with same first name
• Sharing office with Scott and another writer
• As much as I thought I knew ... discovered how much more I have to learn

I wanted more shiny, and I sure got it!

29

Southern France. Winter 2005.

I'm thinking of the number 29 today.

My age?

The number of hours it took to upload this photo?

... or type a few characters? (What is UP with this computer today?)

The quantity of fuzzy socks I own?

The length of time I slept last night (unit: minutes).

... or the length of the commute to my new job (note to self: no catching up on lost sleep while driving).

Apparently, I'm not meant to say much today. Probably a good thing.

Happy Monday ... and here's to shiny new beginnings!

Playing with squash

I really have not done well at following NaBloPoMo's "Play" theme this month. I'm pretty sure that's OK. It's just a writing prompt in case I'm blocked and need a nudge. Though the idea of playing with squash (in this case, with an immersion blender as part of my soup-making process today) brings up the memory of teaching Lizz's Girl Scout troop how to make potato soup and not letting it cool sufficiently before putting batches of hot potatoes and broth in the blender and ... oh yeah, causing gluey potato bits and starchy liquid to spew all over the church kitchen we were using. Ceiling, cupboards, counter, floor, Girl Scouts, me ... good times! A cooking, cleaning and safety lesson all in one. Because I'm efficient like that.

I'm writing this post having just polished off my second bowl of Butternut Squash Soup. i've tinkered with various squash soup concoctions (love the stuff) but I got this particular recipe from Scott Kelly, chef at the Saginaw Downtown Farmers Market a few Saturdays ago. It was a cold and drizzly day - was that two weeks ago? Three? I finally picked up the chicken stock I needed today so when I got home this afternoon I got the soup going, put in a load of laundry and hunkered down with my new book. (Finally picked up Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, which had been on my must-read list for a while.)

After the inevitable, and brief, nap that followed, the squash that had been simmering in a garlicky, oniony broth was the perfect tenderness to blend to perfection in mere moments with minimum mess using the immersion blender I inherited from Aunt Harriet. I wish the Girl Scouts could see me now.

Here's the recipe:

Butternut Squash Soup
Chef Scott Kelly, Saginaw Downtown Farmers Market

2-3 pounds butternut squash - peeled, seeded and chopped
1/2 C olive oil
6 cloves garlic - peeled and pinced
1 large onion
2 quarts vegetable or chicken stock
1/4 tsp dried thyme
Kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper, to taste

In a large stock pot heat the olive oil over medium heat. Sauté onion and garlic just until onions are translucent, taking care not to burn the garlic. Add the squash and stir to cover with oil-onion-garlic mixture. Add the stock and the thyme and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 30-45 minutes or until the squash is tender and cooked through. Very carefully purée (in a food processor or blender in batches and only after cooling!) or use an immersion blender. Taste and adjust seasoning as desired. Before serving, drizzle in some heavy cream or half and half for a richer flavor. I added a generous sprinkle of shaved Parmesan and ate my soup with crusty whole grain bread.

The potato man



Jim DeWyse - The Potato Man

 Yes, he really is called The Potato Man.

But his real name is Jim DeWyse and he's been in the potato business in these parts for 35 years, carrying on a family business started by his father.

I finally got up the nerve to ask Jim a few things one day when I went to the farmers market on my lunch hour. First of all, his name. And then, I wanted to know if I could buy all the potatoes and onions (he grows BEAUTIFUL onions, too) I thought I'd need for the next several months and store them properly so I wouldn't need to get them at the grocery store in the winter months.

I know this used to be done in the old days. But why is it that when I put my potatoes and onions in the pantry, the potatoes spoil and ooze all over and the onions grow giant sprouty things? What was I doing wrong?

Jim said I should put them in a cool, dry, dark place. Well, the pantry closet is dark but I guess in the summer months it's not very cool and probably not maintaining the right humidity level. It's definitely cool in the winter because it's not insulated. He also suggested putting them in a foam cooler. So maybe I'll try that. Please don't let me forget that I put a pile of potatoes on the counter in the basement kitchen because last year I forgot about the Hubbard squash down there and it EXPLODED all over.

I love it when the farmers tell me stories, and I definitely want to go back and have Jim tell me some more. I was fascinated listening to him and didn't want to be rudely jotting down notes in my little book while he was traveling down memory lane. But he told me that his dad used to deliver potatoes all around this area, directly to people's homes. Some of the ladies who bought the potatoes would greet his dad with freshly baked pies.

If someone delivered my potatoes, I'd do that.

A graceful exit

The kid's first off-campus abode. Summer 2010.

I've been lying, not laying, in bed (yes, Dad would be proud; even at the very end of his life when his caregivers would say, "We're going to lay you down now," he'd snap, "You will not lay me down! I am not a piece of paper!"

... where was I?

Oh, yes. Lying in bed. Not as in telling untruths, but reclining in a horizontal, supine state. And in this position, pondering.

I did a lot of that after my Christmas Break last year. Pondering. While supine.

Speaking of grace, did you know that Nancy means grace or full of grace? Wishful thinking on my parents' part, d'you imagine?

My point today, and I do have one, is that I have said a lot of goodbyes in my young life. Some, of course, were final. Or final for our time on Earth. Most, really, were the "see you later/until we meet again" sort. Because even when you think it's pretty much THE END or the very last time you'll see someone, I've been astonished to learn that lives that once intersected might do so again.

Even with all that experience at goodbye-ing, it's not something I've mastered. Hey! According to Wictionary, goodbye is from the Middle English godbwye - a contraction of God be with ye. I like that! Today I will say God be with ye to some people very dear to me. Some I've worked beside for a very long time and some only a few years or months or weeks.

Today I'll turn the last page of a 10-year-long chapter of my RayZooMay. End one era of my work life and prepare to begin another. I've muttered and mumbled and hinted at it for a long time, and now the day has come to make a graceful exit to my "what's next."

An apple (in) a day?

Recent trip to farmers market ... mmmm

Here's something I just don't understand:

I finally broke down and ordered myself a new laptop. Because the computer  from which I write my posts is getting old and creaky and slow ... even a few days after Scott-o came over to "optimize it" recently. It's been optimized a bunch the past few years, which has just been buying time. Literally. I'm thinking it will be a good repository for our photo archives but not much else.

Anyway, after many weeks of debating with my brain and my budget, I treated myself to a (little) Apple. I'm sure I ordered it the wrong way because right after I'd taken a deep breath and submitted my order on Sunday I saw that it would ship somewhere between Oct. 14 and Oct. 20. Wha???? How come when we order new computers at the office they come the actual NEXT DAY? So I called the nice people at Apple on Monday to see if it could be expedited and learned that for another $23 I could get "next day." Because once I finally decided to part with my dough and get something I want it RIGHT NOW. But then learned that was "next day" from when it was to ship. Which would probably be on Wednesday (yesterday) at the earliest.

I just got the "it shipped" notice and the tracking number. My new little friend is en route from China (Jake - look at the pretty bird! Look at the bunny in your garden!) and is estimated to arrive Oct. 19 by 4:30 p.m. Can someone please explain to me how eight days from the day I called is "next day"? Thanks.

Sincerely,

The Paragon of Patience

New kids on the block

The original Writers Block. ca 2005.

This is one of my favorite photos. It was taken at a work Christmas party 4 or 5 years ago. The composition of the Writers Block has changed since that celebration. And after this Friday, only one of the original members will remain. And it's not me.

I gave my notice last week and next Monday will begin a new job. Writing will be a big part of my new position because, well, that's what I do. But I'm excited to broaden my horizons and learn different things. Shiny things, for sure.

The new writers are seasoned professionals, so not exactly new "kids." I'm guessing none of them will do handstands in the hall. Or attach foil gum wrappers to project folders to attract the attention of certain people always seeking shiny things. Or do impressions of a cat hacking up a hairball. They surely have their own quirky writer traits and will add unique and memorable traditions and help create a fresh environment for the Writers Block.

I'm taking great memories with me. I've made lifelong friendships with some of my co-workers and I know these people will always be a part of my life. So that's it. My life-changing news. The continuation of the sentence I began in last Friday's post, if you didn't guess it already.

Super Snoozeday Tuesday



Tree man in Barcelona. March 2005.



 Daytime cold medicine to keep me alert and somewhat non-drippy by day. Night-time stuff to suppress coughs, sneezes and drips and help me sleep all night ... and right through my alarms.

Just call me Alice.

(Hope to be able to write about life-changing stuff later today. Tomorrow for sure.)

Okay bokay

Fragrant bouquet from farmers market. 2010.

Pretty funny how language evolves, isn't it? I always chuckle when I see bouquet spelled "bokay" on a florist's sign. My farmers market friend Maryiln gave me this pretty bunch of flowers and herbs last weekend and they're still pretty perky.

I do not have a single interesting thing to share today. Not yet anyway. I have a code id by dose and feel very poo-ish.

Oh! The walk was lovely yesterday. All my parts were sore toward the end, but it was lovely to spend the afternoon out in the fresh air. It took my mind off my dripping nose and the elephant sitting on my chest.

Well then. Happy Monday. Sneeze atcha later.

And we're walking ...

I'm walking in our community's CROP Walk today - a personal/family/church tradition for the last 15 years. CROP Hunger Walks raise awareness and funds for international relief and development, as well as local hunger-fighting agencies. Learn more about CROP, and sponsor a walker at http://www.cropwalkonline.org/ or e-mail me at nancy[dot]justwrite[at]gmail[dot]com to pledge your support.

Game day

Door to the kid's first apartment.
Love the happy color!

... the opening of another door.

But that's all I shall say about that now. Because today is Saturday!

And that means Imagonna go have breakfast with Lizz and do a bit of wandering in Ann Arbor and then head over to do some cooking with a friend.

OK, sports fans: What BIG game is playing in Ann Arbor today? Guess who had no idea it was TODAY until a couple of nights ago? Yep. That would be the sports-impaired alumna of the other school.

On the very best days, parking is a challenge in that lovely town. I'll be lucky to find a parking spot in Brighton, right?

A change of scenery

View from Writers' Block office. November 2009.

I have been looking out the same window at work for a little over nine years. I've watched the seasons change on the burning bush just out of view in this photo over on the left. It's a beautiful red right now but the leaves are starting to fall. Sabrina, the wandering Israelite on my desk, has really thrived in this location.

It has been a privileged perch for these many years - I can see people coming and going ... and I can watch the wildlife in the field just beyond the parking lot. When Gloria goes out to sit in her car during the day I wave at her. On warm and sunny days I've enviously watched the guy who does the landscaping, thinking I could do the edging and he could come in and try to think up a headline. I'm not sure why, but when someone gets flowers the flower delivery people often come to the back door so I get to be first to know. I usually like to be first to know stuff. Oh, just say it, Scott: Ann had her baby. I know, I know. How in the world can that baby be eight years old now? Where did the years go?

When the window washer people come, it's always a surprise and never convenient to move the clutter off my desk. I enjoy watching them squeegee my window and then I move all my papers and stuff out of dripping danger so they can do the inside. I think squeegie-ing windows would be kind of fun, too.

In any event, the view is going to change today, one of many adjustments being made to prepare for ...

Project Happy progress report

Banana in perfect state of ripeness. A happy thing.

Earlier this summer, Misty told me that if she came back in one year and I was still unhappy, she would punch me in the nose. So launched Project Happy. I didn't want to get punched in the nose.

It was not just Misty's threat, though, that got me really moving and tackling some of the things that were pressing down on me. Although I have no doubt she could deliver a mean left hook.

No, I attribute the progress to two other really important things: Prayer (my own and those from others) and actually making steps toward making some important changes.

What did Einstein say? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? Something like that. I'm doing very different things and I'm seeing different results. Yay, science! Of course it's scary and exciting at the same time.

I have asked for God's help with overseeing the project - because I hear He's good at that. And then I've been trying to do my part. That's how it's supposed to work, right?

The universe is playing with my mind

An unexpected turn of events.

I know y'all think I am obsessed with this photo. But I think I know now what it was telling me.

Seriously, Universe. Scaring me.

I thought I was headed in one direction and chose another. A path that was completely unexpected.

Am I being oblique? Annoyingly cryptic? Simply annoying? Sorry. I have some big news but have to wait until the right time to broadcast it.

But I can HINT, right?

Secret of the monkey pants

Oh, there's no secret, really. (And though you can only see a peek of the pants here ... they're just like the top.)

My Nick 'n Nora sock monkey PJs that I bought for $6 on clearance at Tarjay a few years ago are my favorite attire for writing, reading, thinking and whatevering. The pants might have magic powers, because I sometimes think, do and say important things while wearing them that I might not otherwise.

I wish I could wear them all day today.

Especially today.

Toast to change

Derailment Porter. Up the Creek Brewery 2010 vintage.

I visited a writer friend and his family the other evening for "babies and beer." On these visits I'm treated to a bottle of the newest brew and then get to play with their adorable twin girls.

I was met at the door by screaming toddlers who screamed louder when I looked at them. Oh no! Didn't they remember I was fun Aunt Mancy?

It didn't take long, though, before we were making silly faces and playing games and reading stories. Phew.

Big changes are ahead this week. Salut!