moving dirt and other hobbies

what God has joined together...

2011-10-09T18:51:00.001-05:00

There is a tear in the fabric
A cut that will not mend
The work, wrought over time
Quickly unravels
Each thread a memory
Each bit a thought
This color our first laugh
This edge our child learning to walk
See here the orange of the sunsets we viewed.
See the tears we shed here in this hue?
This stain a reminder of bitterness
So worn this place from trying to wash
Weakened by our effort
Marred congruent to our distrust
These useless threads cover no more
Our life in fractions unwoven, un-whole
Try as we may to salvage the piece
No tapestry can be re-done when once released.

Breast Cancer Awareness Shirt

2011-09-21T11:58:00.001-05:00

Firefighters from IAFF Southern Missouri Local 3904 have joined together to raise awareness and funds for breast cancer research. Our main fundraiser is the sale of souvenir pink T-shirts with the cheeky "Brothers For Boobies" name on it.

In an effort to make things easy for everyone to purchase a "Brothers For Boobies" shirt I have added a paypal button to my blog (See button on the right). Shirts will be available for pick-up from Brothers for Boobies team leaders. When you order via Paypal please be sure to enter your email address so we can make arrangements to get your shirt to you!

Also please check out our team website and join us in Making Strides Against Breast Cancer 2011!

Brothers For Boobies

2011-08-13T16:00:00.000-05:00

When my mother-in-law, Pam, was diagnosed with breast cancer in September 2009 our family began to experience the emotional roller-coaster that is common with such a diagnosis. There were so many questions to be answered and so much waiting and hoping for good outcomes. We felt helpless especially living several hours away from "Grandma-Friend".

It just so happened that it was also in 2009 that Springfield held it's first Making Strides Against Breast Cancer walk at Jordan Valley park. This was exactly the opportunity that we needed to join in the fight and feel capable again to make a difference in the lives of those affected by breast cancer. Pam underwent radical surgery as we planned for and participated in the walk. My husband, a firefighter for Battlefield Fire Protection District challenged his shop to wear pink duty shirts, provided through the Southern Missouri Local 3904 Firefighter's Union, during the entire month of October. My children embraced the opportunity and proudly told of their Grandma's bravery in facing her battle for her life.

Our team, "Pammy's Mammies" was small at first... literally just our family but the following year we recruited several more participants and were able to raise several hundred dollars towards breast cancer research. Grandma-Friend continued to improve as she recovered from a radical bilateral mastectomy sandwiched between six-month rounds of chemotherapy. We laughed and cried with her as she experimented with wigs, hats and dew-rags. We learned to love her new womanly shape and shopped for a flattering dress for her to wear to her youngest son's wedding.

Once again we are planning for the event and this time around we have definitely upped the ante! Together with the brother's of Professional Firefighter's Local 3904 we plan to push the limit! Plans are in the works for a souvenir pink firefighter's T-shirt which will be sold to help raise funds for the American Cancer Society's breast cancer research. Plan to participate with us by joining our team, Brother's for Boobies, and plan to walk with us on October 15th!

Caffiene Fix

2011-04-27T05:54:00.000-05:00

All is quiet and then
annoyance
drudgery
untwisting
growl
In that same moment
soft gurgling
steadfast friend
creeping up to meet me
warmth
though not the same
still welcome
bittersweet satisfaction

2011-04-26T10:37:00.001-05:00

In the morning you spoke
head bent serious, pondering
muttered words
not towards me or anyone
not that I could see
waiting was part of our day
like rolling off the pillow
mundane as resting ones wrist atop the bannister
those words slipped soundlessly past the wayward lock of straw gracing the top of your lenses
you would not move
did not falter
were not distracted by our coming
down the stairs
giggling, yawning
we each took pause
a sudden hush
reverence we would learn
and teach the younger
patience we practiced
and quiet
wait we must
for this conversation
words with our Father came before words with our father.

Civil Wars

2011-04-25T22:25:00.001-05:00

I've always considered myself to be a southern cook. My lessons in Mom's kitchen included family recipes passed down by word-of-mouth and a practiced hand. Hearty meals were prepared and served to a large brood of hungry young'ns all beaming with just cleaned hands and faces framed by gravel dust earned during hours of hard outdoor play. My roots run deep to Austin, Texas and Jacksonville, Florida where my parents were raised on meat and potatoes, and plenty of bread. I've always teased (tongue in cheek) that one just doesn't get much more southern than that without changing nationalities.

Recently I was drawn into a discussion with my dear friend on the topic of northern vs. southern recipe origins. Her husband had proposed that dumplings are flat uniform dough ribbons submerged in the stock of a hearty stew. She on the other hand defended that what he was in fact describing were noodles and furthermore dumplings were fluffy cloud-like biscuits floating atop said stew. This discussion went on until it was decided they would call on me to settle the issue.

Mind you, I am neither an authority on dumplings nor trained in crisis intervention but when a friend calls... well, I am a southern belle so I will be there for you as quick as a bunny.

As it turns out, Brannon, who hails from southern Alabama won this tete-a-tete. A little research revealed that the dumplings Tedra, a Minnesota native, and I both make are of the northern tradition. Even so, this southern gal has a particular fondness for the light doughy goodness of the recipe which was passed down to me by my Ohio-raised grandmother. Southern or otherwise I'm proud to include the recipe in my family's treasure trove.

2011-03-29T14:54:00.002-05:00

My mother read to me. Every day after dinner. She read to all of us, together around the table, poised eagerly on the edges of our seats. In my mind the pictures formed. The scenes played out in vivid colors. Richer colors than life. The cinematography was amazing. Really, in my mind that is. She read everything and her voice made the words come to life. Her voice made all the difference. I love her voice.
I read now to my children though not as faithfully as she did. They tell me it's boring yet they sit and listen and at the end of a chapter they want more. More boringness. More of my voice. I hope it makes a difference.

2011-03-12T15:39:00.001-06:00

no matter how I try
I cannot shake
this piece
of gum
from the bottom
of my shoe

2011-03-06T06:11:00.001-06:00

I left
because
you
would not stay
away

Dream

2011-03-05T17:54:00.002-06:00

Of whom does an infant dream?
tucked within, suspended warm
the muffled soundtrack of life
Mothers heart beat and her own
a world whose foreshadowing was heard
before ears were fully formed

Of what does an infant dream?
Of faces unknown
Of flavors untasted
Of colors unseen
Of places untraveled
Of love?

And how does he form his dream?
this child of merely days
thoughts without language
memories conjured in the dark
with eyes sealed shut
sensations buffered in a fluid haze

2011-03-02T21:56:00.003-06:00

My favorite line of The Symphony of Alpha Chi Omega is

"to see and appreciate all that is noble in another, be her badge what it may...".

This line reverberates in my soul in such a powerful way. It takes such strength of character for one to always be aware and grateful of the positive traits of others. To be undeterred by labels or status; to simply see people for who they are, focusing on the good in them. Kindness, acceptance, even more; faith in another human being is the greatest gift one can give. Even greater than love.

Sunday Morning

2011-02-27T14:43:00.000-06:00

cold metal doors
spread wide like open arms
hollow halls
vacant faces hide closed minds
pleasantry, a masquerade
an empty greeting
echoes a strangers call
darkened room
a welcome reprieve

1977

2011-02-25T18:49:00.002-06:00

eyes dark beneath a formidable sky
shadows creep
breath shallow silent
fluid seeps
on the belly slipping
carefully, calculated
quickly
swiftly slithering away on the sly

2011-02-23T20:21:00.001-06:00

I realized (again) there are so many things I never learned from you. Questions un-asked. Ideas not yet discussed.
I remember the urgency when I asked you to help me understand Romans 7. I remember too feeling all that mattered was that you knew how very much I love you. That you understood how you're love for me impacted my life.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, you were frustrated that you had woke, alive. You spoke words of encouragement... Another way of saying goodbye.

2011-02-21T22:02:00.001-06:00

I lament; my mind is cement.

starfruit

2011-02-20T04:55:00.002-06:00

in the tree
meticulously placed
tiny plastic bags
hanging
poorly planned decor?
ecological sabotage?
no
a good use for
a bad thing
I wait
to pick
before they drop
lovely starfruit
delicious and
un-marred

life support

2011-02-18T13:24:00.003-06:00

laying still I can hear
the rhythm of my heart
(whistles and chimes)
my steady breathing
In. Out. Perfect.
above my head
dripping
never ending
gentle whirring
the right then the left
puffs of air against my calves
you leave me breathless
tears against my cheeks
cannot be checked, wiped
Do you notice?
instructed
informed
rarely asked
I had no clue, no choice
it's for my own good they say
technological wonder
(medieval torture)

2011-02-17T13:04:00.000-06:00

I always miss
the most beautiful days.
I don't like to go out
when I'm alone.
I don't like
to face the world
when you are not with me

much has changed

2011-02-16T19:57:00.000-06:00

we rule these halls
clamoring, changing, locks clanging
shoving past to our three minutes of freedom
air rushes in as prison doors break
for a time
laughter, greetings, excited news
drifts along the breezeway
wafts down the stairs
across the plaza a new generation
awaits

2011-02-15T06:54:00.001-06:00

I like the contrast
black on white, white on black
silhouettes, shadows
grays blending away visual noise
the brightness of your eyes, a soft reflection
the pallor of your cheek angles down to the shapeless ghost at the edge of your jaw
secrets to explore
sunlight casting this way or that
always with part in hiding
textures and depth
a perfect photograph

wedding day

2011-02-14T20:38:00.001-06:00

On the verge

Self-awareness tossed aside

Identity cast out with reckless abandon

Who you are is a shadow

A forgotten role

Decision

Emotional flight

The future is all you think about

Yet not at all on your mind

Stuttered steps

Meeting in the middle never felt so one-sided.

seed

2011-02-13T20:30:00.000-06:00

searching/seeking
your own beam of light
sifting through the chaos
secluded
wrapped in protection
a shell, a hint of possibility

pushing against the pressure
drawing on ... fresh ideas
satisfaction
fulfillment
quenching the desire for
comfort
experience
growth

on the first day....

2011-02-12T20:27:00.000-06:00

Missing you

I'm not ashamed to laugh
big, deep, from-the-belly chuckles
out loud
listening to my ipod, a line on tv
you would laugh too
I would glance over--you would glance too
knowing just exactly why
the line was funny, sure
but for you and I it's more than that
our hearts are bound
our glances hint at shared thought
you know why I smile, laugh, sigh.
you would sigh too
I laugh when I'm alone, when I'm missing you.

My 365

2011-02-12T20:22:00.000-06:00

Recently I saw an inspiring blog post by Paige Baker (someone whom I only "know" through twitter and the blogger world). She was describing how she planned to embark on a 365 day adventure in art/writing through daily exercise (outlet) of creative energy. Genius. You can read her work here

Inspired as I was by this idea I decided to follow suit and here you will find my daily poetry and/or musings. Writing can be painfully ugly at times. Sometimes the heart has but one line. At other times there is much to express. The process is entirely motivated by the idea that in order to write well one must, well, write.

Encourage, criticize, enjoy.

Lora

my father, my friend

2007-01-11T10:08:00.002-06:00

you have not left me, my father, my heart is your citadel.
your voice is an echo in my mind
your words a reminder to my conscience
time cannot steal you away, you will not be lost in sleep
death cannot sever our ties, age will not weaken the bond
behind my eyes your face is love to me
my skin has not forgotten the warmth of your embrace
friend of my heart even now I am not alone, you are here in the well of my memory

untitled poem

2006-09-15T08:57:00.001-05:00

As I was unpacking some boxes yesterday I came across an old notebook with some of my writings. I wrote this poem some time ago... probably around the time that Spencer was born. I was going through a phase where I was unsure of what I wanted to "do" and I had been contemplating writing as a career. It was around this same time that I took an online class about writing children's books which I enjoyed very much. This particualar poem is about Spring... my favorite season! Critique if you must... it is very much in draft form... comments welcome!

Life's first bloom is velvet green
when winter's echo showers bring.

Upon the mosses sunlight sleeps
and wakes with fog as late frosts weep.

Subtle hues, sweet blossoms mirth
quietly celebrate a new days birth.

Melted brooks fall forth and froth
light wings of wind bend branches soft.

Nature's eager children sing
as caution holds them smiling.

From her perch a wise one watches
moom and stars reflected, breathless.

Shifting shadows hint of dawn
young spring awakes with day breaks yawn.

Palm

2006-07-27T21:18:00.001-05:00

She's still standing
after all the wreckage.
The massive rains and record winds.
All around her the sand is tossed and contorted
into shapes we hardly recognize
but we recognize her.
This island is still our island,
this beach is still the one where we laughed and played.
She's still there,
her branches stretch like long fingers towards heaven
and she gives Him praise.
It wasn't because of her strength
nor because she was better than the others.
She simply fulfilled the calling that God had given her,
in that moment when the winds were wild
and the rain was unrelenting
she learned how to bend.
Her leaves are a little tattered,
her shade doesn't cover quite as much ground
but even in her weakend state I have leaned on her
and rested.

Friendship

2006-05-31T09:58:00.000-05:00

I am always very sentimental this time of year. Perhaps it is the observance of Memorial Day but for whatever reason I find myself looking back at the people that God has placed in my life and thanking Him for them.

Kate Blandford:
You have been there for me time after time! You know me better than anyone... the best and the worst of my very emotional life! I am so thankful for your sweet spirit and your example to me as a Godly mother and wife.

April Wines:
I want you to know how much I value your intellect. You have an uncanny wit about you that has always been refreshing to me. I love the unique way you can relate to my quirky Asian artisan side. You never miss a beat... when I vent you listen, you are non-judgemental and loving in your willingness to offer your ear to soothe my rantings.

Danielle Davitt:
I admire how grounded you are. You were always careful to take care of yourself and you have developed into a beautiful mother and (soon-to-be) wife. You accepted me for who I am and welcomed me with open arms at a very vulnerable time in my life. For this you will always have my love!

Gloria Bishop:
I will always treasure the way you have stood firm in your beliefs. You have taught me, admonished me, even rebuked me without apology for those things that God burdened you to share. Yet in my weakest moments you did not back away but stood close to hold me (even from as far away as Ohio) and to calm my grieving spirit with your words of encouragement.

Donna Cary:
You have been there through the fire with me. You know what it is to choke back your pride and humbly endure for the sake of the prize. You have given me courage to make the hard choices for my career and when all else failed you laughed (and cried) with me about how awful the whole journey has been!

Katie Barth:
I am amazed by you. You have a perfect blend of compassion, confidence, and unwavering integrity. This is what makes you the wonderful nurse that you are! I cannot help but admire you as a mentor and love you as a friend. I am ever grateful to God for the common ground that we have found.

I have been blessed!

haiku

2006-05-28T23:04:00.001-05:00

You wait in the grass
for the warm summer nightfall
to be silent and unseen

two sides of me

2006-03-28T09:07:00.000-06:00

please evaluate
standard deviation
arterial blood gases
IV push rate
z-score
cranial nerves
tissue type
don't be late
list them out... spell them out
don't forget this will be on the test.

please perform
7 on your team
a. fib
my pain is a 10
code blue
keep your cool.

Scrapping

2006-03-22T23:21:00.000-06:00

Ok, I don't know why I never attempted scrapbooking before because I am having a blast with it! Luckily I have a lot of the tools I need from my stock of "stuff" from when I used to do so much stamping and card-making. So with a few basic supplies and a recent copy of Simple Scrapbooks Magazine (for troubleshooting those quirky blank areas on my pages) I am off to a great start! I made a title page for the album with a great full frame pic of the kids and I documented our recent trip to Ripley's Believe It or Not! museum in a two page spread. I had a lot of fun and felt a real sense of pride in what I had made at the end of the day! Of course I got a little help from Kate... where would I be without her! So now that I know I can do this and actually enjoy it I need to schedule some girl-time with Mom and Tashina! I can't go without giving a little credit to my sweet cousin, Cheryl, for helping me see that this could be fun even if I am a bit of a perfectionist!

Sweet Baby Ray

2006-03-01T15:05:00.000-06:00

It isn't hard to see where Spencer gets his good looks!

Hoops

2006-02-28T23:07:00.000-06:00

One thing is certain about nursing school there are going to be a few "hoops" you'll have to jump through. As an LPN completing an ASN program the lineup of hoops seems more like a downward spiral than a progression towards some expected end. Still I dare to hope that some day... Well, you know.

This past week (if I may vent) included one particularly treacherous challenge for me. It came in the form of a test, a mock "NCLEX" of sorts that was to allow me to show that I hold some promise as a nursing student bridging into the 3rd semester. I had scheduled this test over a month ago but upon arriving at the facility I was informed that I was not scheduled and furthermore the test had taken place 2 hours earlier. I was mortified. I was standing there with only 2 hours sleep after a 12 hour shift at the hospital feeling frustrated and (I'll be honest) a little hot-headed.

Take slow deep breaths.

So I'm told to wait for 30 minutes until the proctor gets back from lunch to see if I can still take the exam. "You did know you were supposed to schedule it ahead of time?" She returns, sooner than expected, and yes I can take it if I want to. I'm told I have to make 800 to pass. I nod and begin. An hour later I stare at the screen where all I can see are the numbers 7-1-9. This can't be real.

I cried and I thought about giving up and then I called my husband and my friends and told them I was crying and thinking about giving up. When I had finally regained some measure of dignity and set my mind on a plan for remediation I heard the phone ring.

"I told you wrong, you only needed 700. You passed." I was too exhausted to be elated.

Three days later I cleaned out my purse and found my appointment card with the date and time clearly written just as I had remembered it.

They make the hoops, we jump through them. That's just the way it is.

"Sway"

2006-02-28T22:40:00.001-06:00

The way you walk reminds me of
a pendulum
one foot in front of the other
you keep moving but never get anywhere.
Even in the dark, from 100 yards away I could tell it was
you.
You always turn, a smile for a friend.
Nurture.
Nudge.
I know you're happy when you wrinkle your nose.
You might be walking away but I know you'll always swing back.
That's just you, that's your way.

Lovers Holiday

2006-02-15T10:49:00.000-06:00

So Valentines Day isn't always perfect. In fact my friend Katie wrote the following that really tells it like it is:

"Its Valentines Day. A romantic, holiday - a lovers holiday, right? I sometimes think this holiday is more trouble than its worth! Now don't get me wrong. If [my husband] were to forget about this holiday, or blow it off, I'd be crushed. But therein lies the problem. If you're married to a helpless romantic, its the perfect day. But if you're not, you wonder if your husband will even remember to do anything. And do you dare mention it to him because if you do, then did he just do something because you told him to? Well, that totally spoils it then, doesn't it?

"[H]ere is the only way that I can think of to keep the holiday from being a total fight fest. Buy a card ...don't make such a fuss about not wanting to do it. Just sit down, write down how much you love your spouse and how much they mean to you, sign it, seal it and deliver it. Trust me, this speaks volumes to us."

Beautiful.

For Chris

2006-02-14T00:32:00.000-06:00

lashes rest against soft petal cheeks
warms lips
cold nose
roused by your breath on the curl of my ear
welcome to a new day
sweet valentine

Daddy's Little Girl

2006-02-13T08:29:00.000-06:00

This past Saturday evening the PTA threw the bash of the year... a Father/Daughter Dance just in time for Valentine's Day! Abigail was as pleased as could be to don a pretty dress and twirl around the dance floor with her Daddy and friends from her class. The smash event included a version of the "newly-wed game" specially geared for Dad and his girl. Abby's favorite activity was by far the limbo which she performed with graceful ease!

Color Guard

2006-02-12T19:14:00.000-06:00

I had a proud mommy moment this week as Charles carried the American flag in a traditional color guard ceremony at the annual Blue and Gold Banquet with his boy scout troop. This was an important scouting activity for him and a duty he was required to perform in order to advance with his fellow scouts. He was, as you might have guessed, very excited about the opportunity.
He took his duty VERY seriously holding the American flag just so taking care to maintain a dignified demeanor. Of course when the salute was done and the Pledge of Allegiance had been quoted with heartfelt sincerity he was to be found laughing and eating as much of his favorite potluck dishes as he could.

Warmth

2006-02-08T16:16:00.000-06:00

My Papa and I enjoying hot cocoa and hugs.

To Do:

2006-02-08T12:55:00.000-06:00

I love "to do" lists.

It's crazy, I know, because most people would rather have less to do than more. Still there is something so satisfying about the feel of my pen running along the page as I mark out one more item on my list. I tried (once) to use a PDA to keep track of these things but that delete button just doesn't give me the same measure of finality as a firm quick swipe through my carefully scripted tasks.

Whatever your preferred method, it's good to get things DONE.

Breaking the Silence

2006-02-07T09:05:00.000-06:00

Enough is enough.

It has been almost a year since I last posted. Those of you who know me well know that quiet is just not... Well... ME.

So here it is.... A years worth of blah blah blah.

June 2005. One year has passed and I am finally realizing that I cannot be as strong as I want to be. I find it harder to go to see my sister's grave, easier to look at pictures and laugh about recalled anecdotes. Harder to talk about my feelings, easier to sing again.

July. My Papa has cancer. Surgery and recovery. The future is uncertain but the daily scriptures my mother writes on the whiteboard in his hospital room are the perfect dose of healing for each new trial. Chris is working now as a full time paid firefighter! My heart swells with pride!

August. God works wonders when you least expect it. When Papa was transferred to a telemetry bed across the hospital I walked with him. "Are you a nurse?" I was asked. "Do you want a job?" I had applied a few days earlier, the job was waiting for me to just walk on the floor. Thank you God! Amy and I "face the dragon" together picking up shells and letting the salty water lick at our toes. It will never be the same.

September, October, November... The days move along and the chemotherapy is working a miracle in his body. Slowly the CEA count drops. Slowly the side-effects become worse. Poison becomes a friend, the lesser of two evils. School is back in session and I wonder when it will ever add up to a cap and gown... Persevere. I want you to see me finish Papa, I want to make you proud.

December brings family together. Well wishers from Florida, North Carolina, Texas. We are all feeling better about our life. Happy to be nearer for a while. The semester has ended and more credits are accumulated. I am one step closer to my goal.

January 2006. My resolution this year is to read my Bible daily.

February. My "to do" list is never-ending but I am grateful for small successes, a good night's sleep, the satisfaction of crossing something off my list.

Comforts of Childhood

2005-03-02T09:31:00.000-06:00

The other night as I was cooking dinner my husband wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck. Suddenly from the other side of the room I heard a high pitched squeal followed by laughing shouts of "no kissing, no hugging" Looking over the back of the sofa were the giggly faces of our daughter and sons... thoroughly enjoying our sheepish grins at being CAUGHT!

If life could actually mimick art and this moment were a movie clip we would have instantaneously flashed back to my childhood. This scene is a familiar one played out as I peeked around the corner to tease my Momma and Papa. I cannot express the security I felt to have parents who were madly in love with each other. My heart is full of loving memories of a warm and welcome haven that was our home. My parents created, in the midst of a foreign land, a secure place for us to grow and learn.

I remember sitting together after dinner listening intently as my mother read to us. Whether it was Laura Ingels, Little Women, or Where the Red Fern Grows... we were enraptured by my mothers voice showing the world to us one page at a time. This is where we learned our love for literature, our creativity in writing.

I recall sitting arm in arm with my Papa... his strong hands holding my small ones. The smell of Old Spice still reminds me of daily greetings at the bottom of the stairs, a hug and a bowl of oatmeal for a sleepy head.

We were taught teamwork as we toiled together on Saturdays listening to Karen Carpenter and the Beach Boys until the house sparkled. Later we celebrated with a movie, The Sound of Music or Seven Brides for Seven Brothers... we knew each song by heart, we shamelessly joined in at the top of our lungs.

My mother never turned away a stray kitten brought home in a shoe box. She never skipped a beat when we came home with one shoe and one muddy foot after running through the rice pattys chasing lizards. Together she and my Papa taught each of us to ride a bike, patching up 10 skinned knees in turn.

But more than anything they are each the one "who lives and teaches the ways of love."

"Finally Brethren let us love one another, for love is of God."

Smiling Chris and I turn to each other, with a wink and shout we charge across the room to tickle the hecklers hiding behind cushions. I can only hope that my children will feel the same love I have felt.

Aerobatics

2005-02-01T18:55:00.000-06:00

I came to the realization the other day that my little brother is so wicked cool! It's not just the tight haircut or the EGA inked into his left shoulder. We're talking on the phone about this and that when he tells me,

"I'm starting aerobatics"

I was silent for a while (truthfully I was trying to figure out what he meant) when it dawned on me. I've seen Top Gun so the images running through my head are vivid, surreal, and oh so very fasinating.

"That's like flips 'n things?" I asked

"yeh, barrel rolls that kind of thing"

Its not that my chosen career is dull or anything. I'm a nurse in a time when nurses are very marketable. I love what I do but lets be frank... I don't roll a plane around in the sky!

"My roomate is my training partner so that makes it convenient for practicing hand signals." He says this like hand signals are a normal part of life. I'm trying to remember how to spell the alphabet in sign language.

"So is it dangerous?" I ask.

I'm still a little nervous about the idea of him up there alone in a metal tube with flaps.

"Well, if you get into uncontrollable flight you've got to neutralize your controls and it will come out of it on it's own."

Ok... I'll just have to trust him on that.

a poem

2005-01-25T10:09:00.001-06:00

sitting
waiting
dozing
something catches my eye,
pink petals perfectly poised.
sunny lines grace the edges of gently angled leaves
on the other side of glass

quiet
clicking
listening
my eyes closed I hear the fingers fly
agile digits form thoughts and wishes
silent conversations on a flat screen
faceless people

standing
leaning
stretching
my face uplifted I feel a stir of air
the world goes quiet
breathe in
breathe out
take one step up to be carried back to my busy life.

Chinese New Year Celebration

2005-01-24T23:49:00.000-06:00

As the new year settles on us all here in the USA it has still yet to dawn in China/Taiwan.

February 8th, 2005 will mark the dawn of the Lunar New Year and with it comes a host of festivities one can only hope to participate in. So I have planned... to bring the chinese new year to my children. To join my asian/american heritage.

We will be serving traditional Chinese Fondu... known as "Fire Pot" or Huo Guo. For dessert we will have moon cakes, orange slices, and bubble milk tea. The children will get new clothes as will Chris and I, red I should think. Money for a prosperous new year will be tucked into red envelopes and given to the children, our future. We will hang lanterns to light the way for the new year to come. On our door posts we will hang red banners: "May God Bless us in the New Year. ", "The Lord grant us Peace in the New Year." We will light long strings of fire crackers to announce the arrival of a new year, a fresh start.

Breakfast with Sue

2004-09-24T10:36:00.000-05:00

The children had a day off from school today. It had been a while since they visited Sue's grave so we decided to take some flowers out to her. The kids wanted a picnic so we packed some doughnuts, juice, and raisins to eat beneath the tree that shades her resting place. I am continually amazed at how innocent life, and death is for children.

I asked them for some time alone so they sat patiently in the car as I rested my forehead on her marker letting my tears wash the dust from the bronze letters. Charles remarked, "You really are sad about Aunt Sue."

Yes, I am.

"I'm sad too, maybe I could have some time alone" he continued. He is so intuitive. He patted my hand, and I was glad he was there. We ate our breakfast and talked about the things we loved, and missed most about Sue.

"The sleepover we had."
"Baking cookies"
"We made snow angels in winter"
"Aunt Sue made us play-dough, any color we wanted"
"Aunt Sue was nice"

Charles wants to know about her bones and her clothes. I answer as best I can. I remember Papa saying, "Someday she's gonna dance out of there." I smile, not of happiness but of hope.

"I'm holding you to it God!" (June 13, 2004)

Susan wrote, "Never say goodbye."

I won't.

finding... defining, myself

2004-09-23T16:02:00.000-05:00

Too often when I meet new people they like to ask me, "what do you do?" I hate to answer this question because I am a very busy person... I DO many things (sometimes all at the same time). I find it unusual that no one ever asks, "Who are you?" after all that is what they really want to know. "Who are you? How, if at all, can I relate to you?"

(How would we react if someone dared to ask?)

I am a collage... I am many things thrown together. Cutouts from a favorite magazine tacked to a push-pin board.

I think I was spoiled because Papa was always home. It made it easier for him to be since his office was upstairs in the bedroom next to mine. Of course I put in many hours by his side; passing out tracks, visiting prospects, cleaning, painting, remodeling the church... his career was more like a family project. We were partners and he was always there for me.

My mother is so talented... I admire and mimic her in as many ways as possible. I enjoy, and critique music with a trained ear and a grateful heart. (unfortunately I can sing the entire repretoire of elementary Bastian pieces from memory) I can sew by hand or machine, and I will someday finish my quilt. I cook without using a recipe (I always serve a balanced meal). My Momma is my teacher, my mentor.

I am not just a mother, daughter, sister, wife, nurse. Although I am all of these I am limited by none.

There is always space to add new ideas... there are plenty of thumb-tacks.

counting the ways I have missed you

2004-09-11T13:18:00.000-05:00

Not a day goes by that my mind does not move, involuntarily at times, towards the idea that time is so unrelentingly steady in its progression. I want it to stop... I want to take a break from it... to see myself, and my family, once again the way we are frozen in photos.

I have missed you Sue.

In so many ways...

When Spencer stood to pee for the first time... he is such a big boy now.
When Charles lost his front tooth only days before his school picture... he reminds me of you with his sweet grin and selfless generosity.
When Abigail braved the street for the first time on her bike... such a delicate child in such a frightening world.
When I broke a bone for the first time ever and I could not call to tell you we finally had that in common.

Your voice is still on my answering machine... cheerful, laughing, telling me that you love me. I check ever so often to make sure you are still there.

There is a tree in my yard that once provided me with shade to relax in while the children played. It did not leaf out this year... but I can no more cut it down than press delete on my machine.

I miss you.

The sun has set, and rose again sixty times.

I still can't say goodbye.

granny goat

2004-07-31T19:24:00.000-05:00

I was never very inspired to create handmade heirlooms for my children during my pregnancies. It seemed to me that carrying them around in my expanded abdomen was in itself a fabulous act of sheer creativity, though the handywork cannot be credited to me. Now my own little ones are shuffling off to school my friends are finally getting around to doing a little creating of their own. For my part I am content to sit around with needle and yarn twisting and pulling together a little something handmade. Try as I might I could not settle with the idea of blue for boys and pink for girls. Yellow seemed too generic as though I couldn't decide (go figure) And with children due on such dates as October 31st I couldn't possibly go with a seasonal flair. So white it is... pure, simple, elegant, exquisitely perfect! Using alternating stitches I have created a striped effect in a blanket that would be just as suitable for a cozy night as for a dedication ceremony.

beautiful..beneficial

2004-07-29T09:48:00.000-05:00

I'm not advertising for neutrogena though I feel their lip products are by far the best at preventing damage while I garden. This summer I felt a little overwhelmed by my lack of free time so the idea of a veggie garden (usually a thrill for me) was umm... daunting to say the least. So... I planted my veggies in my existing flower beds. I know it's a bit unorthodox but the idea was brilliant once played out. My greebeans are growing next to creeping phlox supported by wrought iron sheperds hooks left over from my sisters wedding in May '03. The tomato plants crowd in groups of 2 and 3 among lavender and marigolds while a zuchinni creeps out from under a large butterfly bush. All in all I am very pleased with the look... a full garden, with promise of fabulous italian and asian cuisine as the fruits of my busy life ripen in the summer sun!