Sunday, November 26, 2006

Thanksgiving, Volume Two has arrived!! Before I get to it…I hope all of you had a great weekend filled with more than just turkey and pumpkin pie!! And not to make anyone panic or anything…but did you know Christmas is less than a month away??

I better get back to being thankful before someone shoots me. J

15. Christmas lights. One of my favorite things to do every year is drive around looking at all the Christmas light displays. Christmas lights are my favorite. This weekend I got an extra helping of them, because I spent the weekend in Frankenmuth, Michigan – a full fledged Christmas city. Lights EVERYWHERE!! And as I drove back home this evening, I fully enjoyed looking around at all the homes whose walls have been fully decked!

16. Reconnecting with old friends. Between my class reunion, randomness, and the amazing linking from My Space and Blogger, I’ve found all sorts of people from years gone by. It has been great to catch up with them and hear what is happening in their lives. One day I even came to work to find an email in my inbox from a foreign exchange student I knew back in 1990! Somehow she found me at work and wrote to me. I haven’t talked to her in a dozen years, I imagine. That was a great surprise!

17. Garages. My house only has a one car garage, so back in the day when I had a roommate, we had a week on/week off system so that both of us got equal time in the garage. I loved it during the weeks that I had the garage. Not such a fan in the weeks when I got to park on the street. Why did it always seem to snow the most those weeks? Anyway, as I drove past my neighbor’s defrosting car last week on my way to work, I realized how thankful I am now to have sole dibs on the garage. Every day. No matter the weather.

18. Ice cream. I’m an ice cream junkie. Dairy Queen and I are friends. Arby’s jamocha shake and I are friends. Ivanhoes and I are friends. In fact, I just had a bowl of ice cream (in a cone shaped bowl, no less) right before I sat down to write. You can believe there is an entire shelf in my freezer devoted to ice cream. My favorite flavor? Moose tracks. And I’ve found that it’s very affordable in Aldi-land. (See #1 on the list).

19. Color. It may seem like a dumb thing to be thankful for, but I just love color! As I shopped in Frankenmuth this weekend, I was just blown away by all the color in the Christmas decorations. Absolutely beautiful!! It’s one of those great little perks that God threw in for us. He so didn’t have to – but I’m so glad He did.

20. Food chopper. I feel like I’ve made 483 batches of broccoli salad this week. I love that salad, but chopping broccoli takes forever. Thankfully, food choppers were invented, and I’ve got a great one!! It’s also great when I have to tackle the onions. I still cry – but not as much as when I had to chop them by hand! If you don’t have one – RUN to the store and buy one!

21. Hugs. I’m a hug girl. Love them. Usually. I remember a guy that I went to church with MANY years ago…and he liked to hug. He was probably 10 years older than I was and I’m not sure he was entirely on the same page with the rest of the world…bless his heart. Anyway, I never got away from church without a hug from him, and when he hugged me, he’d smack my back like he was burping a baby. Not quite enjoyable, but I’m sure there are worse things in life. So that type of hug excluded, I love a good hug!!

22. Study Bibles. I think it’s Billy Graham that says you should get a new Bible every year so that you see things from a fresh perspective. Well, I can’t afford a new one quite that often, and I like to “live in” mine for a bit longer than that, but every now and then I like a new Bible. I just got one, in fact. With all this overtime we’ve had to work, I decided I would splurge and treat myself. If I have to stay, I might as well get something fun with the money, right? This one is an Archaeological study Bible, and it has all sorts of great pictures and notes about life in Bible times. I’m learning so much!

23. Electricity. Last week I came home form work to find that my garage door wouldn’t work. I figured I had a dead battery in the opener, so I parked in the driveway and went inside. Once inside, I found that many things were dead: my lights, my heat, my TV, my microwave. There went dinner plans, the TV shows I usually have on after work, the chance to do laundry…well the chance to do much of anything, given that it was mostly dark. I ran around lighting candles, and I realized how much I depend on my electricity! Fortunately, whatever was causing the issue was fixed in a couple of hours.

24. Candles. Speaking of candles…I love them. The four years of deprivation induced by life on the college campus has given me a whole new appreciation for them that has yet to go away. I love the smell of them, the glow of them, even the way they heat my house in the winter!! Yay for candles!!

25. Washers and dryers. I’m so thankful that God placed me in this era and not in Little House on the Prairie days. Though it’s one of my favorite shows, I don’t think I would have been cut out for the days of covered wagons, no air conditioning, and washing clothes by hand on a washboard!! I’m not only thankful that I have a washer and dryer in this house, but I’m thankful that they exist at all!

26. Cell phones. I know it seems absolutely shallow, but I am thankful for them. Driving home on the interstate in the dark, I felt much safer, knowing I could call for help if I needed to do so. And to be able to call my Mom from the middle of a store when I had a question – that was great! I love my cell phone!

27. Discipline. And by that, I mean the God-variety. This past year has been a huge year of discipline from God to me. I’ve gone through a lot of learning and much of it hasn’t been fun, but to look back at it from this side makes it absolutely worth the pain that happened during it. And what a relief to know that God still thinks there’s hope enough for the future to continue the discipline! If He were to stop, I’d be in big trouble!

28. God’s mercy. And finally, I’m just thankful for God and His love and His mercy. I visited a church this morning while I was out on the road, and one great thing about that was the ability to just focus on God. I didn’t know anyone at the church, so I couldn’t be distracted by people. While many churches were probably plunging into Christmas programs and music and sermons, this church was still all about Thanksgiving and it gave me a chance to tell God again just how thankful I am for all He’s done.

No More Stitches!!

This morning I tricked Braeya into climbing into her cat carrier for what I hope is the final time. When I woke up, she was sacked out at the foot of the bed and I found her favorite toy just inches away from my feet. I confiscated it and when I was ready to take her back to the vet for "suture removal," I said, "Hey, Braeya, wanna play a game??" She chased me through the house and straight into the carrier where I tossed the little piece of fuzz she loves so much.

She remembered the vet because she refused to come out of her carrier once we got there. The vet pulled her out and asked me to hold her down while she snipped. I'm sorry...what? I'm the fainter girl! Actually I've never fainted in my life, but the mere thought of those stitches sliding out in my presence made me want to consider it as a new activity.

The worst part (for me) was as I held her down, I completely lost sight of reality - I forgot there was a vet in the room and I started stupid talking like I do at home. See here's the thing. I hate baby talk. This whole "goochy goochy goo" business that parents do makes me want to barf. But I remember this one episode of Friends where Rachel was talking to Ben, I think, and her voice went up two octaves and she said, "You're so cute...yes you are...yes you are," and then she said in the same stupid voice, "Why am I talking like this? I don't know...No I don't!" So I started talking to Kaegan like that just to be silly, and now I talk to both of them that way. Typically I only do it when I'm alone or when my parents are around (because they think it's funny). But there I was at the vet's today, holding her down and avoiding any contact with scissors meeting stitches saying, "You're my good good girl, yes you are! Mommy loves you!" Oh good grief.

When I started talking about myself in the third person, I turned red and shut up. There's got to be therapy for this sort of thing.

Decking the Halls Has Begun

Typically I'm very against decorating for Christmas before Thanksgiving has had its moment in the spotlight. But I'm not hosting Thanksgiving at my house this year, so no one will be here to know!! And I'm desperate to get the whole house decorated completely before the weekend is over.

So today, my attic threw up into my bedroom. Literally 90% of my attic has turned out to be boxes of Christmas stuff. Trees...decorations...wreaths...ornaments...lights...dishes...you name it. It's crazy! I locked the cats downstairs (because all I'd need is a cat lost in the recesses of the attic) and began to drag out boxes and bags. I'm not really sure where I'm going to sleep tonight, actually, because of all the stuff.

But the decorating madness has begun. So far I have one room mostly done. I do my rooms in themes, and my dining room is halfway through an Americana makeover anyway. So I decided to just carry it out by making that the Americana Christmas room. I have the tree up and decorated in red, gold, and silver. I can't officially finish that room until the rest of the house is done, since the dining room table becomes the common collection ground for most other Christmas decorating transition material. But at least I can go to bed with one tree completed.

Now if only I can learn to keep Braeya out of it. Kaegan remembers from years gone by. He pauses to sniff and occasionally chew on a branch, but he remembers that is his limit. Braeya...well...what she's going to come up with remains to be seen. It could be an intersting year.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

This morning in a sermon illustration, our pastor asked us when we were last grateful for plumbing and sewage systems. I leaned over to my friend Laura and said, “Probably the last time it stopped working.” I hate to say that, but it’s true. It’s like the only time I realize how effortlessly I breathe is when my nose is stopped up. I just don’t notice things until they’re gone. I forget to be thankful.

I looked back through the last three years’ worth of columns and realized I’ve never written about Thanksgiving. It gets lost in the Christmas shuffle. So this year…28 things that make me thankful. Some big, some little. All wonderful. One for each year of my life. I’ll give you half the list this week and half next week – just so you don’t have to take a nap in the middle.

1. Aldi’s. I’ve been told I have a pathetic grocery budget – which is probably true. I love to cook and bake, but I couldn’t make my tiny allowance stretch without Aldi’s – even if I do have to keep a quarter on reserve for my cart and ferret out my own boxes to hold my groceries.

2. Digital cameras. Being the picture lover that I am, I appreciate being able to immediately redo the shot until I get the perfect angle and lighting. It came in extra handy when trying to do a photo shoot alone while holding a sleeping baby the other day. The end result was worth every single redo.

3. Blankets and pillows. Whether I’m snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie on a Sunday afternoon or snuggling into the middle of the bed at night to read a magazine, I love being sandwiched between pillows and blankets. It probably takes me twice as long as it should to make my bed every day just because I have all the pillows and blankets to deal with. But nothing beats being toasty and comfy on cold nights!

4. Straightening products. If you don’t know me very well, let me just introduce you to a little known and mostly useless fact about myself: my hair has ATTITUDE. It has significant wave. Too straight to have the adorable curl that my “niece” Hannah has – and much too wavy to be the adorable straight that most people can achieve with a flat iron. And while I’ve learned to love my hair, I have learned to love it more in the last two weeks. My niece, Cassie, told me about Herbal Essences new “Dangerously Straight” line – shampoo, conditioner, mousse, hairspray – the whole nine yards. I don’t like forking out 3 bucks a bottle, particularly, but the 20 minute reduction in flat ironing each morning has made it more than worth it.

5. Kaegan and Braeya. I know – some of you think I really am becoming the crazy cat lady. And maybe I am. But hey…they’re the ones who greet me at the door when I come home. And alongside making me crazy (and this month, broke!) they make me laugh after a rough day at work. They don’t seem to mind when I cry over silly things. And though they can’t really hug, a big purr and a nose nuzzle can definitely make a sad moment glad.

6. Dad’s healthy recovery. He’s had more than his share of surgeries during these last couple of years – and I’m just really glad he’s still here. Who else would I pick on without getting into trouble? Who else would help me turn my house (and the neighborhood) upside down when Braeya came up missing? Who else would play me a song on the radio just because? I may be 28, but I think there’s some Daddy’s Little Girl still in me.

7. Stamps. One of my friends was over here this afternoon and while borrowing my computer, looked through the open closet door and said, “What’s all that?” I didn’t even think twice before answering, “Oh those are all my stamps for card making and scrapbooking.” I’ve never seen eyes get so wide so fast. I know – you don’t all understand the rubber stamp frenzy. But I love my stamps – and I’m thankful that I was able to use my years of selling them to build a great collection.

8. Books. I feel guilty even putting more on my Christmas list when there are so many on my shelves that I haven’t read yet. Books are great – and someday I’d love to have a library just like the one on Beauty and the Beast. Clear to the ceiling – with ladders and a fireplace and a big comfy chair.

9. Music. Savannah was in the car with me tonight when I went to church and the first thing she wanted was the music to be turned off. What a silent ride to church!! I mean it was nice to talk – usually there’s no one to talk to in the car. But there was nothing in the background. I love my music – when I get ready in the morning…when I work…when I drive around…how did people make it before the days of music at the press of a button?

10. Dollar bin fabric. I have a whole new sack of it just waiting in the upstairs closet. Time for new curtains and seat covers in the dining room. I love curtains and just would not be able to afford them if it weren’t for the great treasures I find in the dollar bin. And if I’m going to be entirely fair, I should be thankful for a Mom who can help me sew in a straight line – which sometimes proves challenging for me.

11. Hair dye. I am now a shade of mocha. It’s a lot better than the shade of white I was becoming right at the very front of my head. I’m too young to be gray!!! And while I aspire to never be the shade of neon orange that I accidentally was earlier this year, I’m so thankful that I at least have the option to not grow visibly old before my time!!

12. People who clean out their closets. It’s always good to get new clothes. It’s even better when you don’t have to pay full price for them!! I’m thankful that God has kept me well supplied with friends my size who love to shop – and can afford it! And then I’m thankful for their rummage sales that keep me well stocked with new-to-me things!

13. Roses. My favorite flower. And this week I got one! What a fun surprise to return to work and find a rose on my desk. Sarah (from my office) knew I was having a rough day and thought she would brighten it up for me. Thank you, Sarah!! You are a blessing…and the rose is right here, still smelling and looking great!

14. Surprise notes from friends. My friend, Julie Crandall, stopped by my house this afternoon and handed me a little scrap of paper she’d drawn on. A little “I’m glad you’re my friend” poem, complete with pictures. I put it right up on the entertainment center to remind me that I have the best friends – so many of them!

Happy Thanksgiving to you all – I hope this week is filled with moments where you’re aware of those things you take for granted. Be thankful for them…they are gifts.

Braeya and Bekah

The night that Braeya came home from the vet, I decided to take advantage of her lethargy and have a photo shoot with her. I tried to have one with Kaegan too, but I think I'm definitely going to have to catch him in the right mood. He was way too fidgety for the camera.

Liam Takes a Nap

I watched my "nephew" Liam this afternoon for just a little bit. It was my first time ever to have him since he was born, actually. Not sure how he got to be so old before the inaugural sitting job occurred, but at any rate, I finally got him for a while.

He had a very pleasant attitude today and we had a great time playing and eating prunes (that would be him - NOT me) and watching a little Food Network TV. He finally gave up and fell asleep...something I could have told him a half hour earlier he should be doing. I just had to have a picture...and it turned out pretty great considering I had to take it myself!!

Nervous Nellies and Christmas Cards

Ahh...a Friday night at home. How rare. Is it scary that I enjoyed it? I'm too young to wish for Friday nights at home. :)

I came home to discover no electricity running through my property. I couldn't tell how long it had been off. The ice cubes were still frozen, but the temp in the house was beginning to match that. Amazing how an hour or so without electricity can push back the plans for the whole night. It's hard to clean in the dark, hard to watch TV without one, and hard to heat up dinner without any functioning kitchen appliances. Just before I resorted to roasting marshmallows over a candle, the electricity came back on. Thank goodness.

Nevertheless (great word, isn't it?), my evening plan was thrown off, so I switched to working on Christmas cards. I finished making them all last weekend and I now have about the first thirty signed and addressed. Repeat that about three more times and I'll be done! :)

In other news (aka - HELP, AMY!!) I'm not sure about this whole stitch business with Miss Braeya. I've been checking them every day because the paper says I need to. I like to follow rules. Mostly I count them to make sure they're all still there. Braeya likes to play with string. Just this morning I found a string from a shirt. A necessary string. One that holds up part of the shirt. As soon as I locate the shirt, that furball is going to be in big trouble for ripping off the string. Anyway, so she still has all four, but I think she's been messing with this one area because it seems to be a little red. (I've informed her of the paper's instructions to not overlick the wound - but she isn't known for her following directions skills.) She's not bleeding and she doesn't seem to be in pain. I don't want to drag her back to the vet unnecessarily because she's going to be mad enough when she finds out she has to go back for stitch removal. I can't imagine adding a "for kicks" visit in the middle. How worried about this should I be????

If I look at it too long, it makes me crazy - plus she really detests being stretched out for inspection. I guess I can't blame her there. Any advice??

Maybe I should return to the world of Christmas cards. THAT I can handle.

Braeya Convalesces

I had a picture of the stitches, but given that it's taken me two days to warm up to them - I didn't want to be accused of freaking out anyone who has a stitch aversion. So instead, here she is convalescing on her makeshift bed on the couch. Why is it that couch beds always make you feel more on the mend???

Dad...Playing "Here is the Church??"

I took this picture of Dad last week when I went to visit. This is the plaid button down - and the jammie pants were...green plaid, maybe?

He was talking and just randomly clapped, so I asked him to re-enact it for a picture. It looks much more like he's playing "here is the church" to me - but whatever.

Stitches and Staples

Update on Dad: His staples came out Monday and he continues to recover nicely, yet slowly. He gets tired very easily and probably does too much most of the time. The doctor confirmed once more that there is no sign of cancer anywhere now! YAY God! Keep praying for him - he really appreciates your prayers!!!

Update on Braeya: She came home at lunchtime today - in a very good mood. She was happy to be back in her own world, and Kaegan was only mildly amused to see her return. Braeya's whole belly is shaved and she has a pretty big incision - I think I've seen smaller C-section scars on A Baby Story. She has bright pink stitches and wants to show them off. Makes me crazy and gives me the shivers. I take her back the day after Thanksgiving to have the stitches removed. Anyone want to guess how long it will take to convince her to get back in that carrier?? Not to mention how long I'll need to recover if I have to sit with her when they do it. I barely lived through the booster shots.

Where is Kaegan?

Last night I fully expected to come home to an elated Kaegan - enjoying his 24 hour (or so) break from his sister. What I came home to was some strange cat in his fur.

He met me at the door, followed me around, sat in my lap while I played online, gave me tons of nuzzles, and promptly crawled in bed and stayed there. I just shook my head and said to him, "Why don't you do this when your sister is home? Don't let her scare you!!!" She is such an outgoing personality compared to his reserved (and usually skittish) nature. Apparently she must scare him to death even though she's just about half his size.

So I think it will be very interesting to see what happens when she comes home today. Hopefully she'll be so out of it that he'll have a chance to ease back into life with her and maybe lay down the law about who is in charge.

I'm just going to guess no on that, though.

Bob Barker Would Be Proud

Help control the pet population - have your pet spayed or neutered, right?

I am doing my part. I dropped Braeya off at the vet this morning for her snippy snip snip. She is not amused.

Friday evening, I decided to take her with me to visit Dad - so that he could have company and so she wouldn't always associate the cat carrier with the vet. Apparently I was too late and she already views it as the ambulance. She would NOT get in. So I left it in the dining room all weekend, hoping she'd start to play in it and this morning's episode would be much more painless.

Then I got the bright idea to just throw food in it to bribe her to go in...but I forgot she had to fast prior to surgery. So much for that idea.

I'm not even kidding you - I was picking up the food bowls at 5:45 last night before going to church and even as I hid them on top of the hot water heater, those two scoundrels were scoping out the house looking for food. It's not like either one of them is particularly starving. They could live on their own fat cells for a month.

By this morning, they were following me around like the Pied Piper - apparently thinking the morning routine would somehow include food or water. Braeya went so far as to throw her body against the shower door hoping for a drink. I told her that I appreciated her effort but that would not open the door, nor would it convince me to open it.

I packed up the car with everything BUT her and then lured her into the carrier with a jingle ball. I felt like a horrible Mom - tricking her into playing a fake game. By the time we got to the vet, she was firmly planted in that carrier and the poor little nurse person had to extract her carefully. Braeya made those baby blues extra wide and looked at me like "I can't believe you're leaving me here, Mom."

I couldn't take it. I had to call MY Mom just to be reassured that I was doing the right thing. Why I called her, I'm not sure. She doesn't even like cats. But she does know about being a Mom. I got the "Sometimes you have to do what's best for them even when it hurts" speech. It was a good one.

So I've done my part to help control the pet population. Now I just hope she lives through it.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

A couple of weeks ago I posted pictures of myself in all the flower girl and bridesmaid dresses from my long-running career as a wedding participant. Someone left me a comment asking what exactly should be done with all the dresses of yore. I think her collection is doing the same thing as mine: making sure one end of the guest room closet serves a purpose. The sad part is I would imagine that I have close to $500 in four bridesmaid dresses living a life shrouded in dry cleaner bags. I probably don’t even own $500 worth of clothes in my regular closet!! Something is wrong with that picture.

So in honor of that comment, and for the owners of bridesmaid dresses everywhere – here is my list of ten possibilities for bridesmaid dresses of the past.

1. Have a girls night fashion show where every girl sports the worst dress she ever had to wear in a wedding. While selecting the dress you plan to wear, you might want to eliminate all dresses chosen by brides who could be present at the fashion show – unless you were hoping to simultaneously end a friendship.

2. Be a bridesmaid for Halloween. I actually did that one year. I was a fourth grader and reused the flower girl dress I’d worn in my sister’s wedding when I was a second grader. Clearly, two years later, it was more like a miniskirt than an evening gown – but it got the point across. And for you – depending on the decade of the dress, it could actually win you a prize for the scariest costume!

3. If you’re still in the decade of your life where you do at least one wedding a year, try to peer pressure all future brides into using the same dress (and color) that you’ve already had to wear for another wedding. I’m sure she’ll understand that though she’s had her heart set on black dresses from the time she was four, coral would be a much better color.

4. Nothing brings about a case of cold hard reality better than trying to stuff yourself into a dress you bought for a wedding eight years ago. I recommend trying on such dresses on a weekly basis following wedding participation. As soon as it begins to feel tight, you’ll know it’s time to diet!

5. And along that same line, never throw away the dress because you never know when that couple might decide to throw a 50th anniversary party and want the original wedding participants to attend dressed in the original garb. So you better still own it and you certainly better be able to fit into it. How embarrassing would that be? The bride (who can easily slip into her own gown...) stands across the room and points to you and says “See that girl whose dress is only zipped up to her waist? That was my maid of honor.” Or worse: “See that girl wearing a dry cleaner bag and carrying her dress?”

6. You just never know when you might give birth to quintuplet girls and you’ll need matching Christmas dresses for all of them. Of course with the price of diapers and formula (because face it, chicky, with FIVE, you will NOT be nursing), you will not be able to afford cute little Christmas dresses. You better hope you remember the days of Home Ec!! Get out the scissors and start making baby dresses!!

7. Perhaps as a side business, you’ll take up jewelry making – a very popular hobby these days – and you can transform the dresses into jewelry pouches to add to your sales. Of course even if you can get 25 pouches out of the dress, you’ll still have to raise the price of your jewelry by $5 to break even on what you initially paid for the material.

8. Never again can you say you can’t go to a ritzy office party because you have nothing to wear. HONEY! You have a whole selection right there!! You even have a whole collection of jewelry to match – because you know those brides were good girls and gave you jewelry as the surprise gift for being in the weddings! Who knows – you might even still have gloves or a hat or a bouquet of flowers to match!

9. Dress doesn’t fit and no hope that it ever will? No worries! Whack it off at the knee and use the extra material to widen it…and lookie there!! Festive new nighttime apparel. Still doesn’t fit? Cut it open down the front and make it into a robe. And you might call Nutrisystem while you’re at it.

10. And finally – you can always make a lasting memory by piecing all the dresses into a quilt. And then when you’re really old and you’ve forgotten everything about your life, you and your girlfriends can sit around in the nursing homes and guess which squares came from which wedding.

So there you go. Now you can’t say that you don’t know what to do with the dresses. I can’t help it if you don’t like the ideas. But you can’t say I didn’t try.

WHAT?!?! No Suit Jacket?

I knew Dad was feeling better when called me Thursday night to see if I could bring my less-than-functioning leaf blower over to their house. He wanted to see if the neighbor could fix it. I figured if he was up to directing from the sidelines, he was definitely inching his way to wellness.

We Freelans don't inch very well. Well, we do for the first three inches. Then we try to move straight into yards. When I showed up at their house Friday night after work, still sporting my power suit, leaf blower in hand, the patient's chair was empty. I walked in and said, "HEY! Isn't someone supposed to be convalescing in here?" Apparently he felt well enough to go out to his studio and do some work. When I called Saturday morning to check on him, he said, "I think I might have tried to do too much yesterday." Ya think??

I told Mom that at least now I know where I get it. Whenever I'm sick, the moment I have the tiniest ounce of energy, I feel that I must use it. It's kind of like the moment I receive a gift card...I treat it as though it has a 30 minute expiration time! :)

So today Dad went to church. I asked if he wore his jammie pants. No...he wore dress pants and a button down shirt. I said, "WHAT!?! No suit jacket?" He was quick to assure me that he did wear one this morning but tonight he thought he might just take one along with him. It's more comfortable without actually wearing it.

I think that is the best idea he's had yet. I'm about to leave for church. I think I'll wear my jammies and take along my dress clothes. MUCH more comfortable that way.

I Sit Corrected

My parents do not have the internet, so they can't read any of this fun stuff that I post about them. I feel it is unfair that they can't see what I'm saying (although I also feel it's unfair that they're minus the internet...), so I've been sending them copies of it all.

And after my last post, Mom has informed me that perhaps I misled you. ACTUALLY I knew exactly what I was talking about but this particular change in wording happened in support of the "I'll spare you the details" section. So now, consider yourself UNspared of one detail in order to correct the misleading information.

Dad's blood clot was not as you might normally think of a blood clot - as in somehwere in a vein, artery, vessel or other blood transporting word that I'm missing due to lack of recent use on Grey's Anatomy. It was actually a blockage in his catheter - and causing quite a problem. (In my own defense - I was quite sure I heard him describe it to someone as a blood clot. But maybe from the fetal position on the floor with my hands over my ears while screaming MAMA, I lost something in the translation.)

Consider this the printed retraction!! Maybe THIS is why I did not pursue a medical degree. Clearly I'm not qualified.

Slow Goin'

I usually have to work until 8 on Tuesday nights, but I was miraculously set free last night at five!!! You've never seen such celebration in an office as three women who were just given three free hours!!! Screaming, hugging...dare I say a little bit of fancy footwork too????

Anyway, so with my free time, I was able to go visit Dad. He WAS out of the gown - and into the most interesting combo of a plaid button down shirt and different plaid pajama pants. Because he's sick, I didn't call in the What Not to Wear crew. However, if upon full recovery, I see this particular combo again - he and I might have to have a little chat.

He had kind of a rough day yesterday. I'll spare you the details (I was not spared) - but long story short, he had a blood clot that caused quite a bit of pain. He made one extra trip to the doctor to have that issue resolved, and he said after that, he was feeling much better. Much, of course, is a relative term.

He was sitting up in the chair and eating eggs and pudding (not together, thankfully). Moving is hard, but he's giving it his best shot!!! He loved the pictures that I posted - so for those of you giving me a rough time about it - he knows and approves. And he was well enough to be able to assist Mom with directions about how to put wood in the fire. That right there told me that he was on the mend.

Please continue to pray for him as he deals with pain and catheters and all that fun stuff!!! (And pray for Mom - that she'll learn how to put wood on the fire!! JUST KIDDING, MOM!!!)

Good News!

Hey everybody!!! I just wanted to let you know that Dad's test results came back in a GREAT way. (Hate to use the words positive and negative - because here, positive means negative and negative means positive and WHO HAS TIME TO FIGURE THAT OUT??)

But the news is that the cancer is not in his lymph nodes, so there is no further treatment necessary!!! We are very thankful!

Continue to keep him in your prayers as he has quite a little road of recovery ahead of him. And pray for my Mom too - that she'll get her rest and be a great nurse!!

As Promised....

And here it is!! The picture I promised you! Dad always has such a sense of humor. (He's sticking out his tongue - in case you can't see it well.) I think he should wear the hat all the time. I think it adds so much. This was his pre-op picture. The nurse was there to take him away to surgery and I just could not resist capturing the moment. What would he do without a daughter whose camera is part of her being??

Much more somber after surgery. This picture was taken shortly after I convinced him (or started the convincing, anyway) that the oxygen hose needed to go.

Quaker Haven Retreat

This weekend, I spoke at a women's retreat at Quaker Haven Camp. I think the last time I was there, I was a sophomore in college - so I was really excited to go back and catch up on all the changes!!!! Saturday night, before our final session, we managed to build a fire. By "we," I mean I carried kindling and took pictures and those much more qualified than I actually participated in the fire building. But we got to roast hot dogs and marshmallows!!!

I had my first experience with air hockey. I did okay as long as it was a one puck game. Once we made it a two puck game - I was in big trouble. But as you can see - I did so love to focus!!!


This is not the retreat house where we stayed - but I did a little photo shoot all around the grounds at the places I'd stayed before. This one was my "home" during the times I worked the Pastor's Short Course camp - my college years participation at Quaker Haven!!!

Home Again, Home Again - Forget the Jiggety Jig Right Now

One more post for the day - Dad is home! Yay!! :) I only talked to Mom briefly - and quite frankly, we were talking more about free turkeys than Dad (although I can see how the two would be related....) so I didn't get many - or any - details.

Tomorrow is the day he gets the final test results, so I'll let you know what I know when I know!!!

Thanks for praying!!

Goodbye to Pediatrics

Morning!! Just wanted to post a quick note that if all goes well, Dad should be coming home this afternoon around 1. I forgot to mention earlier that he was put on the pediatric unit at the hospital - a fact I found most amusing. So today he says goodbye to clown border and whatever else they keep on that unit - and he comes home to his own chair and his own phone and his own jammies (which better NOT have the split down the back) and his own everything!!!

I thought about taking the cats over to visit - at least Braeya (she tolerates travel better than Kaegan) but I thought perhaps my mother would not appreciate that, so I guess I'll leave them home and just send pictures. :)

He really appreciates everyone's prayers - and will continue to appreciate them as he goes through his recovery!

Sunday, November 5, 2006

Ahhh…the eternal rat race I so lovingly call my life.

Funny how I can just get back from a retreat…a weekend away…and already feel behind. In fact, as I sit here writing to you, I have a living room and dining room full of suitcases, bags, and sacks, waiting to be unloaded, and right now it’s looking like (with the exception of things I need before then) Wednesday is going to be the best time to undertake that project.

I don’t know how people who are married and have kids do it – because I’m single and behind. This whole year has been full of such fun adventures, and certainly my scrapbook has much to show for it (or it would if I had time to scrap them) yet my basic life is in a state of upheaval.

Last week I found myself digging through my cedar chest looking for a shirt to wear to work – because I don’t have my winter clothes out yet. I haven’t had a Saturday at home to do the great seasonal laundry swap, and I refuse to be so busy that I require a vacation day to do my laundry. I might be facing the replacement of an entire yard of grass if I don’t make it outside sometime soon to rake my leaves. I console myself with the news that at least now that they’re all on the ground, dead, and shriveled up, they should fit much more compactly (is that a word?) into my trash bags!

We won’t even talk about the last time I dusted or swept my house – because it would mortify my mother, and let the record show, she did raise me better than that.

So the combination of digging for seasonally appropriate clothing, the inscription of my name on top of my coffee table, and the realization that I now have an entire THATCH of gray hair sitting at the front of my head (because I’ve been too busy to call for a redye), has driven me to admit that I am too busy and I must learn to eliminate and say no. NOW.

Some of you might remember that a couple of years ago, I took a month-long “sabbatical.” Other than church and work – activities I could not miss – I didn’t do anything for a month except stay home and read or write or clean or cook…all catching up.

Enter my plan for next year.

Oh how nice it would be to take a year-long sabbatical from it all. Hide away in a hole and read and write for a whole year. Sadly, I don’t think my mortgage company is going to recognize that as an acceptable means of payment for 12 straight months. So I’m going with plan B.

I haven’t really formulated plan B yet, but it occurred to me (probably via God) that back in the Bible times, they had built in – by God – a Sabbath year of rest. See, He knew we crazy humans would overextend ourselves and our land. So He made a way to rest. He told Moses that every seventh year, the land had to rest. They weren’t supposed to plant crops or work in the vineyards. That, in turn, gave them a year off – because that kind of work created their jobs. So it was an all around break for everyone.

I like it. I think everyone should have a Sabbath year of rest. This seems like the perfect year for me to do it – because this is my seventh year of work in the same job, my seventh year out of college (we will not even talk about that) – my seventh year living in this house…do you see a pattern?

My goal is to create a way for me to cut down on the things I’m involved in and to take stock of what I do. It’s great to be involved, but when you’re involved in 112 things, you can’t do any of them well, because you’re running around trying to accomplish everything.

What I really want is a year of Jubilee. That was one of God’s plans too – and it came every fifty years. That year, they not only got to rest, but they got to wipe out all their debt and slaves were set free and no one charged interest and…boy I sure could use one of those right now! Again – I don’t think the mortgage company is going to buy into that, really.

The holidays are coming up, and I suppose it’s pointless to tell anyone to take a rest right before the busiest season on earth. I know it’s pointless to tell me that. But maybe you should think about taking a year of Sabbath rest – or even a week of it. Just don’t go anywhere. Because the unpacking will require another whole year of rest!

Not Really Back in the Game - But at Least Off the Oxygen!

Hello hello hello!! I have returned from the land of women's retreats - much against my will. For being the girl who never liked to travel or be away from home, I find that I do it a lot more often these days - and not only that - I actually love it!

I stopped to see Dad for a few minutes in between coming home from the retreat and heading out to a birthday party. What a busy day! But I wanted to give an update to you. He is doing much better than I thought he would be. He tends to not handle surgeries - medical procedures of any kind, really - very well. We Freelans like to complicate things wherever we can, and he chooses that arena.

But when I went into the room today, he was able to tell me how many fingers I was holding up (my standing form of determining wellness) and was not slurring his speech anymore. When I talked to him on the phone Friday just a couple of hours after surgery, he kind of sounded like Barney Fife in that one episode where he was looking out for Mrs. Mendelbright and he drank too much of her outdated cider. Today he was coherent. (Dad - not Barney. Barney's dead.)

He was, however, on oxygen when I went in. I hated to, you know, make him feel worse or anything, but that just kind of made him look like a for-real sick person, so I asked why he had it. He said when he tried to take it off, his nose plugged up. Someone else who was there suggested that maybe if he would take it out and leave it out for an hour or so, his nose would recuperate. He immediately took it off and that alone made him look well enough to go home.

These boys - they just don't think about appearances like we girls do - so I was glad I could help him recover in appearance. Next I'm going to work on nixing the gown in favor of real clothes.

If all goes well (in his words - "if there are no significant setbacks") - he should get to go home tomorrow. He really appreciates everyone's prayers, and boy do I have a fantastic picture of him for you - just as soon as I get it developed. It will be worth the wait. Dad as you've never seen him. :D

Dad Update

Dad is out of surgery.

Everything went well and there were no surprises.

We are waiting for final tests results (which will be in on Tuesday) but there is no reason to think that it has spread.

Dad's Surgery - TOMORROW

I realized yesterday at lunch when I sat down to watch Andy Griffith while I ate a hot dog that it was the first time my TV had been on since SUNDAY. I haven't been home at all this week!! Hence - no posts.

Anyway, TOMORROW is my Dad's surgery. It will be at noon (we think) and should last about two hours. The "we think" part is because it was originally scheduled for 2 p.m., but it got moved up after they had a cancellation. So who knows - maybe sooner again!!

Dad really appreciates all of you who are praying for him and the rest of us do as well!! Please pray for Mom too, as she will have lots on her plate in the days to come!!

I am working on a way for an update to be posted on my blog when Dad comes out of surgery - so feel free to check back!!!

The Wedding Sagas in Picture Form - Keep Scrolling!

I found pictures of all the weddings I wrote about in my October 15th post. I had to post them all separately because my computer has attitude tonight. Please pay special attention to the questionable hairstyles being sported in some weddings. My two flower girl pictures are separated from the rest by my regular Sunday post - so keep scrolling!!!

The Wedding/Obstacle Course

This was the wedding where I was the coordinater and so gracefully fell through the hole hiding under the aisle runner. Can you tell through my gritted teeth how much my feet hurt?

The Wedding/Homewrecking

I was Lynnette's maid of honor in my favorite bridesmaid dress of all time. This one had a tiny sheer train on the back of the dress - LOVED it. This was the wedding where I was the accidental homewrecker.

The Ready Made Family Wedding

You do not even want to know how many bobby pins were in my hair for this updo. I think it was fifty-some. Anyway, this wedding was the one where the mother of the bride tried to fix me up with the brother of the groom - a newly divorced, father of one. This picture was an attempted remake of a picture taken of my sister Julie at my sister Lori's wedding. Julie was in her bridesmaid dress and cowboy boots. Here I was in my purple dress and white tennis shoes. Problem was - the shoes didn't make it into the picture. Thank goodness digital cameras have arrived now!!

The Wedding Where NOTHING Went Wrong

This was the one flawless wedding - at least as far as I can remember. This was when my college roommate, Amy, got married. The gloves were the worst part. They were "one size fits all" but they fit skinny arms much more comfortably than fat ones. On me they felt like those gloves people have to wear when they have - what is it - circulation problems? Again - not sure about the hair....

Bridesmaid Round One

Here was my first round of being a bridesmaid. I loved the dress, but it was a nightmare for me. (Just to refresh - this was the one that the store measured me wrong for and then the dress was too small and then the zipper broke and then the whole trip was a disaster. Nevertheless, it was a great wedding and I was very happy to be part of it! (Speaking of disaster - check out the hair!!)

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Happy Halloween two days early!! I was halfway through writing this to you when I got out my stash-o-printed columns and realized I’d written the SAME THING last year. I need new material.

So…as you may or may not remember, Halloween is a holiday I love, but it’s one I do not participate in using traditional methods. I love the candy, and I love the excuse for a party. Unfortunately, my budget loves neither. I cannot afford to buy a trunkload of candy that may or may not be picked up by the begging anklebiters of the community. And I certainly cannot afford to eat said leftovers.

Let me tell you why. Friday, I was invited to go to a costume party that our secretary was having at her house. She even offered to provide the complete costume for me – since I have so few lying around the house. I was going to go as a Princess (of course…what else?) and she had a dress and shoes and jewelry and help for my hair and the whole nine yards. I arrived at her house about an hour and a half before the party started, and while the hot rollers heated, she helped me into the dress.

Except I was too fat to fit into it. Now there is nothing worse than getting to the end of the world’s worst day, being comforted in knowing that you get to be a Princess for the night, and then finding out WOOPS! Congratulations – you are too fat to be a Princess. Correction. There is one thing worse. Coming home after such a tragedy, kicking off your shoes, and stepping (in socks) in a fresh pile of cat puke.

So as I said, I certainly cannot afford to eat leftover candy. Or any candy, for that matter.

In the meantime, I’ve decided that this year has to be better than last year’s Halloween. I’m borrowing selected details from a special edition of my column that I sent to only some people. I’ve edited it to eliminate disgusting details – but perhaps you can enjoy the rest of it:

I’ve never cared for doctors, primarily because every time I go, I have a “that would only happen to you” experience. Like when I went to a clinic with strep throat and got the gamut of questions ranging from “What did your grandparents die of?” to “Are you sexually active?” It’s a sore throat, people. Let’s try to stay focused, shall we? Or the time I went to the dentist and was sedated…but the sedation didn’t sedate.

So for me to even make a doctor appointment was a rather significant occasion in my life. And had I not been worrying that I was dying, I’d never have picked up the phone. See, in Bekah-land, you’re either 100% healthy, or you’re dying. Why would there ever be a middle ground of treatable illness? I figured I’d walk in the office, he’d take one look at me, and say, “I’m sorry, but you have about four hours to live. Please say your goodbyes.” The three week wait to get in to see the doctor, as a result, was pure torture.

The night before my appointment was Halloween and I spent the evening hiding from Trick-or-Treaters, per my annual custom. I spent extra time in Bible study and prayer, hoping it would calm me for my visit. Well, the particular thing I was working on that night parked me in John chapter 14. Perhaps this will ring a bell: “In my Father’s house are many mansions. I’ll be coming back tomorrow to get you.” Oh…perhaps I went a little off text there at the end.

Several weeks before that, the house down at the end of the block had a significant party that lasted until the wee hours. The banner hanging from the porch the next day marked it the “Josiah-palooza.” I don’t know Josiah, but his palooza resurfaced that night in the form of a Halloween extravaganza. So at midnight, I tossed and turned in bed, mulling over “if it were not so…I would have told you…I go to prepare a place…” with Josiah’s latest palooza as my background music.

After a few precious hours of sleep, I sat in the waiting room surrounded by sickies and fellow hypochondriacs. A woman old enough to know better came out of the rooms in the back and handed a piece of paper to her friend while loudly asking, “Do you want to see a picture of what they took out of me?” I crossed my eyes and went back to answering questions on my form. “Do you smoke?” Circle yes. “For how long?” Ever since I walked in the door of this office. “Do you drink?” Pen in: Do you provide complimentary ones? I’ll give it a shot. Literally. (KIDDING, Mom and Dad!)

A nurse with the personality of a ceramic toad came to the door and called my name. I made my way to the back with her where she instructed me to step on the scales. I don’t believe in scales. I jokingly said, “Do I have to?” She gave me a rather annoyed look and said, “Well you don’t have to.” Good grief, woman!! I got on the scales and closed my eyes tightly to avoid the news we all already know – too fat to be a Princess!

She left me in a room with an announcement that the doctor would be with me shortly. I learned that shortly is 23 minutes. 23 l-o-n-g minutes filled with zero reading material. When shortly was over and the doctor arrived, he extended his hand and introduced himself. I immediately crinkled into a meltdown and said, “Hi, I’m Rebekah and you’re going to wish you’d called in sick today.” I cried the rest of the way through the appointment until he announced to me that he didn’t think I was dying.

My favorite part was the end of the appointment. I’d had to don a lovely Charmin evening gown, and when the consultation was over, I had no idea if the doctor or Ms. Ceramic Toad would be back in for any reason. Was I supposed to get dressed and leave? Or wait for instructions? I scrambled back into my clothes in a Riverdance-esque fashion and cautiously opened the door. I stuck my head out into the hall and made eye contact with the first scrubs-sporting person I saw. “Can I leave?” I felt like a kid fleeing time out!

So until my next near death experience – I’m not going back to any doctors. And no more reading John 14 on Halloween!! OR eating candy!

The French Braid Gone Bad Wedding

This was my sister's wedding - where I sported the French braid held securely by a rubber band meant for braces. But look at me being a good little helper - picking up all the flower petal mess I'd made after the wedding was over.

Wedding #1

My October 15th post was all about the weddings I've been in - and I found some pictures of them! I thought I'd post them in a couple of posts - but it appears my computer would like each to have its own separate post. I'll be here forever!

If you want to catch up with the full stories, just go to the Sunday, October 15 post, and you'll find them.

Anyway - here is my very first wedding - this was when the ring bearer, shown with me here, made fun of my imaginary dog, Lassie.

Goodbyes

I got an email today from my brother-in-law that had news I didn't quite expect to read just today. Back on October 11, I posted a blog about catching up with the Littlefields. When I was out in Kansas, I had a chance to visit with my former pastor and his wife. And this week, he died. I still can't believe it when I look at that picture. It was taken one month ago today. Though he's been ill for some time and on dialysis for quite a while, he seemed stronger than I envisioned he might. He carried on a good conversation and prayed over us before we left that day. He scratched out their email address on a scrap piece of paper and gave it to me.

And he only had a month left. So hard to think about. When I remember him, I can still hear his warm and loving voice over the speakers in our church. He sent cassette tape greetings on ahead in the weeks prior to his arrival at our church. He wanted to let us know how excited he was to meet all of us. He wanted us to know his voice. He loved his people - and we were blessed to have him lead us.

I knew when I walked out of his house that day, that my goodbye to him was likely a forever goodbye. I don't get to Kansas often. But what a treasure it now is to me to have had that hour with him last month. To see him serving faithfully in what were his last days. To be blessed by his prayer one more time. And to be able to say goodbye.

Naomi, I'm praying for you!

Sunday, October 22, 2006

What’s in a name?

Depending on the name – the answer might be uncontrollable twitching.

I was listening to the radio this week while I was at work and they had a whole hour long call in show about names. The people calling in told about their own names or the names of their children – what they meant, how they came to be “the name” and how they felt about them now. It was kind of interesting to hear the stories of how names came to be. Many were chosen because of the meaning behind the names or because of others who had that name before.

So this whole program sent me down a long trail of thought. See, I don’t have kids yet, so I’ve still got the luxury of thinking about what I’d like to name these children someday – if I ever have any. When I was little, it was easy. My best friend and I both had notebooks where we kept lists of names we really liked. By the time we quit keeping the notebook list, mine had gotten so long, it could have been a “name the baby” book by itself. But back then things were so simple. I would write down names just because I liked the sound of them or because I thought they fit well with the last name of that week’s crush.

And back then, I truly hated weird names. My name is not altogether weird, but the spelling was highly unusual back then. Today, I actually know more Rebekah’s than Rebecca’s. But back then, no one I knew would spell my name the way mine was spelled. So I spent the majority of my life saying, “Actually it’s R-e-b-e-k-a-h.” And then I’d politely listen while the person on the other end of my conversation commented on its uniqueness and wondered where my parents got it. So I vowed I would never name my kid anything weird.

And then I started working in Financial Aid. In this respect, it’s much like a teaching job, I imagine. You start to encounter a lot of people who make you roll your eyes – or cross your eyes – or gouge out your eyes. And suddenly, a name alone can send you into convulsions that seem to never end. And in the process, said name – a perfectly good name – is ruined forever. There are now dozens and dozens of names I can never use because of those who have gone before, proudly carrying those names into the X list of Bekah’s planning.

So now that I’ve marked off 80% of possible names to avoid twitching, I have to deal with the next issue, which is longevity. I cringed when Julia Roberts named her kids Hazel and Phineas. I wanted to say “Why don’t you just put them in the nursing home now?” These older names that are coming back have a beauty all their own, but I just can’t sit and rock my baby girl and say “Oh, my beautiful Ava” and not think of my one great aunt that was about 112 before I ever met her! And on the flip side of that, I’d love to hold a baby Brittany, but when she’s in line for dentures, I just can’t see the name fitting anymore.


I’ve also recently learned the travesty of name-stealing. This was new to me. But all my friends have all their baby names picked out. And apparently it is in very poor taste to take a name already selected by a friend. Who knew? And even worse, they don’t tell their names, so that no one steals them, but then if you announce your name for a baby you already have cooking, they say, “Oh that was our name!!” WELL HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW!! (By the way, I’ve never had this happen to me, since I have no children – I’ve just heard stories. Just to clarify.)

I don’t know whether or not you’ve ever seen the movie “Where the Heart is” (GREAT movie!) but the nurse in the hospital named her kids Brownie, Praline, Cherry, and Baby Ruth. I’m starting to see the wisdom in that. It would solve so many problems.

So all of this to say…I am now back to square one on names. The ones in my childhood list are gone. They’ve either been ruined by someone I encountered in my job, they have a definite age marker, or they’ve been put on layaway by my friends. So this leaves me with no choice but to pick something totally weird and when the kids complain, I’ll just say, “Sorry you have to keep explaining it – I totally feel your pain. You’ll get over it.”

Having said that, Braeya was one of my girl names. I had picked it out and had it on this famous “layaway list” for my someday baby girl. But when I got my little Braeya, I had decided I wasn’t having kids after all. So rather than waste a perfectly good name, I used it for her.

Now I’ve decided it would be nice to have kids someday. But we’re going to have to stick with boys – because those are the names I still have.

Still My Girl!

Cassie

Cassie's next substate game was a tough fight - and in the end, their team lost. But what an incredible season!! Almost forty wins and only one loss. She did a great job and I'm amazingly proud of her!! I'm so glad I got to watch her play some games in this best season yet.

That's My Girl!

I can't be there to cheer in person, but I can cheer in my heart!!

There's my girl - serving her heart out!

I just listened to the first game of substate and the Rangers won in two games!! The annoying announcer was gone and in her place was a very nice man who did his job well AND threw in some pretty impressive compliments about Cassie and her friend Megan. They play one more game later tonight, but I just wanted to cheer about this last game. GREAT WORK, CASSIE!!! I love you!!

Go Rangers!!

(I tried to upload a couple of pictures but apparently, despite two restarts, my computer is not in the mood today. I'll try again tomorrow!)

Tomorrow, my niece's volleyball team goes to substate. This is the first year they've gotten this far - at least since she's been a part of the team. I'm so excited for her!! They are 37-0 right now, so win or lose, they've had an amazing season.

This past Tuesday night, when they played in regionals, I was able to listen to the game because it was carried on a radio station that broadcasts on the web. Let me just tell you about that for a minute. Tuesdays never end in my world. Tuesdays are the days of forever overtime and dinner that doesn't start until about 10 p.m. So it was a refreshing diversion for me to be able to stay awake amid the mounds of paperwork. But I'll let you in on a little secret in case you don't know me that well: even though I'm not a diehard sports fan, I can get very into games. Attitudinally into games. I suddenly mistake them for Wal-Mart, and I get ugly. So there I sat, running reports and stapling papers, randomly yelling at my computer.

The announcer (who needed fired, but I don't think you can fire volunteers) kept interspersing her own opinionated commentary into the game. I'm new to volleyball, and I'm a visual person. And other than my niece and her best friend, the names were all new to me as well. Do you know how hard it is to keep terms and names straight when you can't see any of it and some ding dong is sitting there saying things like "Well that just doesn't seem right...uh...oh wait - what are they doing? Oh!" GOOD GRIEF, WOMAN!! KEEP YOUR MIND ON THE JOB!! Whew. Okay, I'm back now.

Prior to this particular season, in my world, dig is what you do to a hole to plant a flower, spike is a really adorable hairstyle on the two year olds at church, a sub is someone to make fun of when he or she tries to run a classroom belonging to someone else, serve is what you do on a church committee or when you work at Applebees, and set is a complete collection of dishes. So needless to say, while I parked at the desk trying to translate all these words into their true game meaning AND trying to remember which last names went with which teams, I did not have time for her unsolicited thought pattern.

I'll be back at the desk tomorrow to listen to the substate game. I hope someone else covers the radio crowd. And...GO RANGERS!! HAVE A GREAT GAME!!! Cassie, no matter the score, I'm so proud of you!!

Braeya the Blogger

Braeya the Blogger

It didn't take long for Braeya to adjust to life here. She has made herself most at home. And, I might add - most underfoot. Since it has been five years since I had a kitten in the house, I forgot how they tend to get right in between your feet while you walk and leave you feeling so guilty when you accidently kick them and they tumble away...a little ball of fur.

Braeya, however, has decided that she needs to be a part of everything that goes on here:

If I have dinner, she needs dinner. And not Fancy Feast on a plate either. She wants pork chops or pizza or chips or whatever it is that I'm having.

If I go to bed, she needs to go to bed - exactly in the same spot I'm trying to use to sleep. In fact, when I wake up in the morning, I have to check for her before I stretch just so I don't accidentally kick her off the bed.

If I watch TV, she curls up in my lap and watches with me. She's probably the only diehard Grey's Anatomy cat on the block!

If I go out to mow, she stands at the back door, propped up on her hind feet, watching my every move and crying because she's not allowed to come out and join me.

If I take a shower, she sits on the toilet lid and waits (rather impatiently) for me to be done so she can jump in and lick the drain.

If I scrapbook, she runs away with the glue sticks and the paper scraps and then once she's properly lost her treasuer under the washer or behind some piece of furniture, she comes back for more.

And every single time I sit down to blog, you guessed it. She has to help. Sometimes she stands on the keyboard and causes me to create interesting words (so far, no obscenities), but most of the time she just plops in front of the screen and follows the mouse arrow. Do you know how hard it is to read blogs with a cat hoarding the screen?

Nevertheless, I would not trade her for anything - even when she scares her brother and unplugs my internet connection and leaves wads of white fur on my purple bedspread! Because when that purr starts and she looks up with those big blue eyes - it's all over!

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Driving home from Sarah’s wedding yesterday, I found myself reliving some wedding memories from over the years. I’ve been in a lot of weddings – serving in various capacities – but one thing that remains pretty constant for me throughout them is the lack of boredom. There’s always something, it seems, in a Bekah-wedding.

My first ever wedding involvement (that I remember anyway) was when I was about five, and I was a flower girl for the first time. Mom curled my hair and dressed me up in a frilly pink dress and I walked down the aisle on the arm of a handsomely-clad-in-gray ring bearer. I guess I must have done okay in my role, but all I remember was that at the rehearsal, I ended up crying in the corner of some room because the ring bearer made fun of my imaginary dog, Lassie. I’m just so glad I was neither one of our mothers trying to sort out that mess. How do you explain to your son that he shouldn’t make fun of imaginary dogs? How do you explain to your daughter that having such a pet only lends itself to torture from five year old boys? I’m sure I don’t know.

My next wedding was my grand finale as a flower girl – and this time, the wedding was my sister’s. Mom arranged for me to have my hair French braided at a beauty shop near my grandmother’s house, so my other sister drove me there bright and early on wedding day to be all braided up. The hair lady got clear to the end of my rather long hair and discovered she had no ponytail holders. She did have braces, though, so tightly pinching the end of my hair with one hand, she dug a braces-rubber-band out of her purse with her other hand and somehow managed to get that itty bitty thing around a fat wad of hair. It stayed! But what hair lady starts a French braid without checking first for a rubber band?

I think I was wedding-free for a number of years after that, and I’ve already written a whole column about the weekend out in Delaware for my college roommate, Christina’s, wedding. (You know…my dress was too small, then it broke, then my dinner was served at the reception with the produce sticker still on the baked apple, then my next-day lunch got to be a soggy mess in the bottom of a cooler?)

My second bridesmaid attempt was actually uneventful, but then came the wedding where I was the maid of honor. The groom’s brother, who was engaged, was the best man. Somehow, through a turn of events that I clearly missed, I found myself in the following scenario at the reception. I gathered dutifully with all the other single girls for the catching of the bouquet (a tradition I truly hate) and found myself next to the best man’s fiancée. She wasted no time in reminding me of their engagement as a means of “this is mine to catch,” I believe. I was all too happy to let her have it. Much less pressure on me. Not ten minutes later, as I just minded my own business, she stormed through the maze of tables, glared at me so hard that I actually went to blend in with a whole group of people that I didn’t even know, just so that I could hide from her, and ran out the door. I had no idea what that was about, but I soon found out. As I was leaving, the best man asked me out. I said, “Aren’t you engaged?” He said “Well, not anymore.” Can I just say that the bride and groom’s honeymoon was the longest 2 weeks of my life? I had to know if I had wrecked one home at the start of another. The bride assured me that none of it was my fault – although it did make for a good story! (By the way – we never went out, and today he is happily married to someone else!)

And just to carry on the tradition, at the next wedding where I was a bridesmaid, the groom’s brother (best man, you know) happened to be newly divorced. At the reception, I looked up from my plate to find that he and I were the only two members of the wedding party still at the table, and just then, the bride’s Mom walked up to me. Though I know she thought she was being quiet, she said in a loud voice, “What about him? He’s a nice catch! And you’d have a ready made family.” I could tell by the smirk I could see out of the corner of my eye, that he had not missed the comment! I about crawled under the table.

I decided to give up being a bridesmaid. Too much drama. So I took up wedding coordination for a turn. After the ceremony, when the church was almost empty (thank goodness!), and the band played on, I made my way to the front of the sanctuary to blow out the candles at the back of the platform. The platform at our church is made up of movable pieces, which is great for being able to configure things however you want. It’s bad when the aisle runner covers a gaping hole between two angled pieces. I very gracefully fell straight into it in front of the entire band. How humiliating. To follow it up, at the end of the reception, I sat down with the first food I’d seen all day. I had just shoved a giant bite of delicious lemon cake into my mouth when I heard the emcee say, “The bride and groom want to thank Rebekah for all her hard work today – where is she?” I gave my best chipmunk cheek smile and waved.

So I think that about brings us up to yesterday. The day was pretty uneventful, but about 5 minutes before the party walked down the aisle, an usher pulled me aside and said, “So, I hear you used to date the bride’s brother.” I raised my eyebrows – surprised that this information had made its way to him. I nodded and asked why he brought it up. He said, “Oh, I was going to fix him up with the redhead.” (That would be me.) Just then some people showed up and he had to get back to ushering. A couple of minutes later, Matt walked by, so I yanked him aside. “I hear someone was going to fix you up with a cute redhead??” He just laughed. I asked him what happened and he said, “Well, we were all standing around talking and he said that weddings are a good place to find dates, so he was going to find me one. Just then, you walked by and he said, ‘Hey, what about her?’ So I said, ‘Yeah, she’s my ex-girlfriend.’” And that is just one more for the book of Bekah-weddings. An attempted match-making with my own ex-boyfriend.

Sarah's Wedding

The sanctuary was absolutely beautiful!! I took several pictures for my running "remember this" series of pages in the scrapbook.

Sarah - very calm for every moment of the wedding. Her Mom made her dress - what an amazing talent that I can only admire. Even if I learn to sew in a straight line, I think hems will be my limit.

Me - taking a break from errand running!

Today, my friend Sarah got married. She and I have known each other for about seven years now, and her wedding was everything I always knew it would be. Like me, she has known for years exactly the way she wanted her wedding - and I think every dream came true for her today!

I was so impressed with her calm spirit when, five minutes before the seating of the mothers, the minister discovered he did not have the vows! She very calmly arrived in the hall, fully in her wedding attire, handed off her bouquet, and told us she just needed internet access and she would print off the vows! Fortunately, one of the ministers was running the sound booth (her officiating minister was not from the church where she was married) and he let her into his office to print out the vows. No Bridezilla for us today! She was the picture of cool!

I was her personal attendant and spent the day picking up flowers and cakes, pinning on flowers (without sticking anyone, thankyouverymuch), running messages around, tracking down extra bobby pins, and trying to snap a picture here and there. Here's just a few of the ones I got!

P'stomachs and P'livers

I'm back to rumor quenching. It seems to be my new Friday activity. Last Friday I tried to turn the rumor mill about my dad into a fact mill by letting you know that he does have cancer, but that it's contained and his upcoming surgery should be the end of this episode.

HOWEVER. It has come to our attention that the type of cancer he has is still in rumor form. So today I'm here to set the record straight. Dad has prostate cancer. This is not to be confused with prostrate, which is not a form of cancer, but how angels fall.

Mom called a few days ago to say that she'd heard it was rumored that he had a much more threatening form of cancer...one that also started with a P, but she couldn't remember what it was. I suggested perhaps the p'stomach or the p'lung or even the p'liver, but she didn't think those were right. But alas, this week I heard the rumor myself - and the incorrect story circulating is that he has pancreatic cancer. That is not true.

So I believe I've set it all straight now. If you have questions - feel free to ask. I probably don't know the answer, but I sure can find out for you!

Catching up with the Littlefields

While I was out in Kansas a couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to catch up with Fred and Naomi Littlefield who were my pastors several years ago. I think they came to our church when I was about a fifth grader and stayed until maybe my freshman or sophomore year of high school.

I loved the years that they served at our church. Naomi took me under her wing and helped me adjust in those painfully awkward years. She cheered me on as I took a step to join the church choir, she supported my initiative to start teaching the kids during our midweek service, she loved to see me work in the nursery, and she backed me up when I wanted to join the handbell choir. Where other pastor's wives might have told me I was too young or I needed to do things with kids my age - she pushed me to try new experiences and keep doing the things that inspired my heart.

My freshman year of high school (I think) - my parents took me to a county-wide meeting for the churches in our denomination. I thought the trip odd, because we didn't usually attend those. I sat in the back of the service and scribbled away probably on an old bulletin. Suddenly I realized the man at the front was in the middle of giving away an award and the activities of the person being described sounded remarkably familiar. A moment later, my name was called, and I had to walk to the front of the church to receive a certificate. I had no idea what to say or do - the whole thing was a shock to me!

The award was a leadership award for youth in the denomination. Most of the recipients had been in upper high school or college. I was the youngest one (to that point) to be nominated. And Naomi had nominated me. As she sat in the other services and heard the achievements of the others, she decided I was doing just as much as they were and there was no reason why I shouldn't get that award. I still have the certificate I received that night - and a beautiful memory of a pastor's wife who believed in me.

And Pastor Fred - he was a great preacher. It was under his preaching that I first started taking notes in church (no small feat!) - and I still have much of it hidden away for reference. He had such a loving heart for everyone in his congregation, and I thought the world of him.

I'd not seen either of them since they moved away to pastor another church, and it was so wonderful to get to see them both again. Mom and Jeff and I sat in their living room and Naomi served us the most delicious punch with little flowered napkins - always the hostess she is.

Sunday, October 8, 2006

This is Miss Braeya back in June, the first night I brought her home.

This is Mr. Kaegan last March on his fifth birthday.

Kids are awfully cute. This morning I was standing in church, just singing away, when I felt a tap on my elbow. I looked over to see if someone was trying to get in my pew but there was no one there. That was odd. I definitely felt a tap. So I looked down, down, down…way down…and there stood Ben. Four-year-olds are on a much shorter eye level. He’d been sitting a couple of pews back with his mom and decided he wanted to take a break and come up to visit me for a song or two. I rescued him from a nose-picking adventure and we looked at a few pictures of Savannah and Liam that were passed up the rows of pews from their mom to me. Then he was done and ready to go back to his home pew.

Just a little minute – but just a cute one. Ben’s fun. I love it when he comes over with his mom and brother. She and I watch TV and Ben and Isaiah run around the house, chasing the cats and dumping all the toys out of the green laundry basket. Last week when they were over, Ben yelled for me to come upstairs where he parked on my bed to watch Nickelodeon on the little TV. I hurried up there to see if anything was wrong. He was stretched out in the middle of the king size bed, propped up on all the pillows, hands behind his head and his legs crossed with a blanket nearby, just in case. I asked if something was wrong and he just smiled and said with great wonder in his voice – “There was a Hot Wheel on TV!” J

Most of my friends have kids, and I am Aunt Bekah to more non-related kids than I am to my own flesh and blood. I have my own car seat, a stack of toys, books, sidewalk chalk, and crayons…and I have a wish list of other things it might be handy to have around, like a high chair, pack-n-play, and stroller. If it weren’t for the kids and their adventures at my house, my scrapbooks would be half as thick as they are. But I wouldn’t trade any of it.

However, I do have to say, there are times when it’s awkward to only be the aunt and to not have kids of my own. Maybe someday I will have my own – but until then, I have had to find a way to make a place in a world full of talk of potty-training, safe toys, sippy cups, the appropriate order of food introduction, and a host of other conversations. Most things I have an opinion on. And in most of them, I seem to stand alone. But I can’t say anything because I’m not a mom. And for those of you who are non-moms with me, you know the cardinal rule is to keep your mouth shut because if you’re not a mom, you really don’t know what you’re talking about.

This week I emailed my best friend about a very random subject, which led us to talk about her college roommate. Lynnette caught me up on what was happening in Susan’s life and said to me, “She’s a pet mom like us.” My eyes lit up at that statement! Sure, Susan lives three states away and I haven’t talked to her since Lynnette’s wedding. But we have a new thing in common! We’re pet moms!

Lynnette and I began discussing the way pet moms should stick together just like moms of humans do. In fact, we decided to start our own group. You’re familiar with MOPS? (Mothers of Pre-Schoolers?) We’re going to start a MOP group – Mothers of Pets. And in fact, we’re going to call the original group MOHPS – Mothers of Human Pre-Schoolers.

While other moms get together to discuss the enormous unfairness of their kids only wearing shoes for two weeks before outgrowing them, we will discuss the greater unfairness of the loss of one corner of a favorite shoe to a naughty puppy. While MOHPS swap ideas of how to con their HPS’s into eating enough vegetables, we MOP’s will swap strange stories of why a cat will beg pork chop bites and then promptly snub a warm, soft French fry. Moms will carefully think out a plan to determine how much time per day their kids will be allowed to watch TV – and what shows are on the approved list. We will turn the TV on as we leave the house so the poor lil guys have some company while we’re out!

Kids are cute – very cute. And maybe someday Lynnette and I will each join the ranks of MOHPS. But in the meantime, we’re thrilled to have our own group going. A group where we fit in with the faithful few who have, for the time being, limited the parenting skills to the pet arena. So Lynnette, pet-mom of Belle, and I, pet-mom of Kaegan and Braeya, proudly launch our own club!

Rumors

Well I've gotten enough phone calls now to know that the rumor mill is up and running at full speed. So in case you're a wonderer who hasn't wanted to ask, I'll just go ahead and answer your questions for you.

My Dad has cancer. He found out on September 12th and has spent these past few weeks having tests, talking to other people who have walked this road before, and praying about which of the presented options to take.

The bone scan and CAT scan revealed that the cancer is contained - it has not spread to his bones or lymph nodes. For that, we are very thankful! That was an enormous relief to him - and to all of us. After being offered options of surgery, some sort of treatment implantation (this would be why I was a writing major rather than a pre-med major), and radiation, he has decided to go the surgery route.

His surgery is scheduled for November 3rd. He is very optimistic about the success of the surgery and his recovery. He's never requested to keep this news a secret - his opinion is that every person who knows could be another person praying! Because of that, and because I love my Dad and want the biggest possible praying army working for him, I wanted to contribute to the rumor mill. Turn it into a fact mill. And a praying mill.

Sunday, October 1, 2006

Well, this week was huge in Bekahland. Most of you know that I went on vacation and in fact – flew for the first time. If you are one of the ones who didn’t know that, I’ll give you just a moment to reattach your jaw. I know, I know. Bekah flew? Shocking.

I flew out to Kansas to watch my niece play volleyball. She is a junior in high school and this was the first time I’ve ever been able to watch her play any sport. It was a great time – she played three matches (or whatever they’re called) in one night and won all three of them, so that was great to be able to see!

Mom had the distinct pleasure of flying out to Kansas with me to watch Miss Cassie play. The distinct pleasure part was in being able to share my first flying experience. If you were to write her, she may have other words to describe it. I’ll leave that to her.

Before I get to my point for the week, let me just tell you my initial reactions to flying. Not only had I never flown, but I’d also never been in a plane or seen a plane in person (other than from the inside of an airport), so this was my first trip down that shaky fake hallway and into the plane. I was in front of Mom when we boarded the first plane, and the moment I stepped inside, I stopped in my tracks and thought (hopefully not out loud) You’ve got to be stinking kidding me. THIS is a plane? The one on Lost was so much bigger!!! This was just a little two-seats, one-aisle, two-more seats adventure. So I sat down by the window and started praying. I wanted to listen to the stash of music I’d brought to coach me through the experience, but they made us put away all electronic devices.

So instead, I was forced to rely on my memory of music. Somewhere from the recesses of my brain, I pulled out the lyrics to an old Gaither Vocal Band song…Jesus, I believe what You said You’ll do…Jesus, I believe You really love me…Jesus, I believe You really care…Jesus, I believe You died to save me…and at the crossing, You’ll be there...Oooh. No. Time for a different song.

We had the most hysterical flight attendant on that plane. His name was Collin and he did not buy into the traditional “Exits are here, here here,” two finger pointing business that I see mimicked on TV. He just kind of gave us the general rundown of the rules. I was familiar with the way the oxygen masks work, as I vividly remembered the crash scene from Lost when they fell from the ceiling before Oceanic Flight whatever it is fell from the sky. Anyway. At the end of his speech, Collin said, “The bathroom is located at the rear of the plane. It’s tiny, folks. We tried to save space by holding back on paint and wallpaper, but I don’t think it helped. I recommend deciding what you want to do before you go in and then back in or walk in as appropriate and don’t change your mind once you’re in there, because there’s no room to turn around.” He definitely eased my flying jitters!! (Not to mention that he gave me a certificate and a chance to go into the cockpit – after we landed – to meet the pilot and co-pilot.)

On the last flight home, Mom and I sat on the left side of the plane for the first time in this journey, and I was smack in between the wing and that little swirly engine thing. (Another vivid memory of Lost – that first episode where the guy gets sucked into the engine right after the crash. What a bummer! Live through the crash and get sucked into a jet engine two minutes later!) So while I tried to keep my mind and eyes OFF that thought, God took the opportunity to teach me a little lesson.

It was pretty overcast, as we were headed straight into a storm, but a few times, I was able to see the ground clearly. I wondered how many hundreds of miles I was able to see from my vantage point. Little pin-size dots were houses, I knew. Cars were too small to see and roads were like thin threads stretched out everywhere. I’d look at one cluster of houses and then another that from where I sat seemed to be only a foot or two apart. I wondered how many miles separated them really.

I’m in the middle of this 30 day faith growing experiment that God has sent my way, and He is so good to remind me of my faith and how it needs to be grown and stretched. And that day, He showed me how different things look from a new vantage point. Down on earth, so many miles might separate the people in those housing clusters that they might never know each other. To see each other might require great effort and much time. Yet from where I sat, it seemed much easier. The obstacles of roads and mountains and rivers were nothing from my point of view.

And God reminded me that’s how it is with Him. In all these areas of my life that He’s working in right now, I have no idea how He plans to accomplish some tasks. They seem impossible or issue-laden to me. But from where God sits, there’s not a thing in the way that He can’t easily fix. I just have to trust the way He sees things.

Flying was fun. I am not ready to trade in an office job in favor of the drink cart down the narrow aisle. I would fly again – although I’d prefer to wait until my ear unplugs and my head cold clears up. Perhaps that would make it just a tiny bit more comfortable. I had a great time watching Cassie play and would love to see her more! But I have to say that nothing compared to that little lesson that God shared with me on the flight home when I sat between the wing and the engine.