If I Only Had a Snow Day

I'm not sure five minutes passed in our office today without one of the guys checking up on the weather. They were plotting and planning what would happen if no one could get to work tomorrow. See, I think if I lived far enough away from my office that this could potentially happen to me, I'd get more excited about a day off work. But even if no one else in the entire office can show up, I can. So I did not share in their enthusiasm to watch the skies.

But what if? What if a flake actually fell (we have yet to see the first sign of snow) and enough followed in its snowsteps that work shut down and I got my first snow day since high school? What would I do?

1. Never leave bed. I put this first because I would never actually do it. The only time I've ever stayed in bed for an entire day was when I was deathly ill with the flu. Otherwise I sit around and think of five hundred things that need done around the house and I get up to do them. So I think it would be fun to forget the shower, the hair, the daytime clothes, the responsibilities of adulthood - and actually stay in the fleece sheets all day - watching all the TV that I never get to see because I'm at work.

2. Write all day. I do this sometimes, but not often. I like to hide when no one knows I'm going to be home for a day, and I'll just park in front of the computer and crank out dozens of pages. Sometimes only half are worth keeping - but it's great just to put all the thoughts on paper - or rather, on screen - and feel a sense of accomplishment!

3. Scrapbook all day. I used to be good about scrapping at home. Now it seems that I have to have a day planned with friends before I sit and scrap. But just in case the skies open up and lock me in tomorrow, I headed to Hobby Lobby tonight to cash in on the half price scrapbook album refill pages. It would be a pity to be unable to scrap for lack of pages.

4. Read. A book. A whole book. This is what I did all those growing up years during snow days. That was before I had cable and real responsibilities. A snow day meant reading fiction for hours. And right now I have shelves of fiction just waiting for me to make time to read.

5. Scour for recipes. The other night, just to keep the house warm, I started a baking frenzy that resembled Izzie's muffin marathons on Grey's Anatomy. I made fudge (two kinds) and cookies and brownies and candy. I had to keep washing bowls and spatulas by hand because I didn't have enough dishes to fill up the dishwasher yet but I was out of the staple tools. Now that the cooking is out of my system, it's time to find new recipes.

6. And then there's what I would really do. If, by some miracle, I actually got a snow day all to myself, I know what I'd do. Sleep in, get up, throw on warm up pants and a sweatshirt, go dig a path down the sidewalk and driveway, exercise, clean, cook a couple meals ahead, watch some Oprah, take a nap, blog, and talk on the phone. Such a creature of habit.

At any rate - snow must fall for any of the six to even be an option, so for now, I'll just wait for the first flake.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Last Sunday, Mom called to tell me she read the article I wrote. (This would be when my mind went completely blank…article? What article???) Well it turns out that something I wrote was up for publication that day. When I write for our denomination, I write 9-12 months in advance. When something is accepted, I receive a complimentary copy of my work in print, but it comes several weeks before it actually appears on its appointed day. Usually by then, I’ve completely forgotten.

So just for fun, I found a copy of it this week and read what I wrote. It’s always good to know what I said – just in case someone asks me about it. (Thankfully I looked – today someone stopped me about it, and at least I knew what she was talking about!)

The article was called If Only He Still Wrote on Walls, and began this way: “My college roommate and I used to comment that it would be so nice if God still wrote on walls. We probably were taking an Old Testament class at the time, studying the book of Daniel. In case you’re not familiar with the story, King Belshazzar threw a huge party – a political kind of thing. Everyone was drinking and many were worshiping idols at the same time. Right in the middle of their drinking, idol worshiping party, ‘the fingers of a human hand appeared and wrote on the plaster of the wall, near the lampstand in the royal palace. The king watched the hand as it wrote. His face turned pale and he was so frightened that his knees knocked together and his legs gave way.’ (Daniel 5:5-6)

“I really can’t blame King Belshazzar. While I’ve never hosted or attended a similar party, I do know that if I was minding my own business and a random hand appeared without a body attached and started writing on my wall, I might start to question a few things. I’d start with my sanity and work from there.”

The news was basically that the King was doing a lousy job in his reign and God was about to divide the kingdom and give it away to others. I said, “Perhaps if this is the only sort of news delivered through the writing on the wall method, I’m thankful that God hasn’t written on a wall for me. But still, Jenny and I thought life would be so much easier if God would just spell it out – in a language we spoke. We’d like Him to tell us if we were in the right major…where we should look for jobs…who we should marry. Then we could proceed without doubt.”

I’ve learned – as many people have – how to know when God is delivering a message to me. And lately it seems that God isn’t asking me whether or not I’ve heard Him. He knows good and well that I heard and that I knew it was Him. His question to me is now about whether or not I’m planning to acknowledge what He said. Whether or not I’m planning to treat it as the sacred Word of God from His heart to mine. Whether or not I intend to follow through with the path He’s written for my life – regardless of how impossible it seems some days.

One night this week I sat on my bed, reading my Bible and devotion book, writing in the never ending journals, and I said right out loud to God, “Okay, I need something very specific here. You’re going to have to be loud and obvious.” In other words – I needed Him to write on the wall.

The verse in my devotion book took me to Deuteronomy. I typically credit Deuteronomy with being one of the lesser highlighting-worthy books – but this week I think God’s pointed out three or four things from that book, so maybe He’s out to prove there’s treasures hidden all over! I read the verse, thought it was nice and started to close my Bible. But I felt nudged to read through the whole area surrounding that verse.

Here’s what I read (alongside what He threw into my heart thoughts as I read). “Now what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach.” Even though you insist on making it more difficult than it needs to be. “It is not up in heaven that you have to ask, ‘Who will ascend into heaven to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?’ Nor is it beyond the sea, so that you have to ask, ‘Who will cross the sea to get it and proclaim it to us so that we may obey it?’ No, the word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it.” You know what I told you and still you fight Me on it and insist it’s too far-fetched. Too impossible. But what you need to know is already in your heart. And that is all you need at this moment.

“See, I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction. For I command you today to love the Lord your God, to walk in his ways, and to keep his commands, decrees and laws; then you will live and increase and the Lord your God will bless you in the land you are entering to possess.” I told you what I want from you, and I haven’t changed My mind. If you do what you’re supposed to, these blessings are yours.

“But if your heart turns away and you are not obedient, and if you are drawn away to bow down to other gods and worship them, I declare to you this day that you will certainly be destroyed. You will not live long in the land you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.” You know what your other gods are and if you follow them, then you’ll have a set of consequences of your own.

“This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life, and he will give you many years in the land he swore to give to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” You have a choice too – and I’m hoping you choose the right one. But it’s up to you. (The non-italics parts are from Deuteronomy 30:11-20).

So maybe He doesn’t scribble legibly on a wall. But He speaks clearly and truly wants a full and rich life for each of us. I guess the outcome of His wall-writing (through whatever method) is up to the decisions we make in response to His calling.

Hair Disaster Photos

Well of course they post in reverse order! :) Regarding the hair color disaster, here was the second attempt at fixing...the stage where I was Ronald McDonald's love child wannabe. My observation during this stage was that guys seemed to like it and women looked at me like I was a tramp.

This was the first color...the one that sent Marie running to Wal Mart for a new box of color to try. Clearly I was not amused. :)

Gray Gray Go Away

Despite argument from a couple of my younger friends (who seem to enjoy picking on me about my age) - I am not old.

But I am gray.

This gray business led to a rather unfortunate chain of events last May - some of you know about that. I was preparing for my class reunion and wanted to not be gray, so I dyed my hair what was supposed to be a lovely shade of auburn. It came out decidedly orange. I tried to fix it and ended up looking like Ronald McDonald's love child. Finally I had it professionally fixed and walked away with the lovely shade of auburn I intended to have the first time. The pictures of this chain of events are priceless, yet frightening.

I've been waiting for my coloring lady to let me know when she could work me in, because the grays were having a reunion of their own atop my head. Yesterday at lunch, I took one look in the mirror at home and decided it could wait no more.

So last night, for the first time since the great disaster of 2006, I box-dyed my hair again. Fortunately, this time it worked as it was supposed to. I'm not orange. I'm not red.

But you know what else? Also not gray.

Maybe if I get really brave, I'll post the orange and red pictures.

Charles Dickens Day

I told you I was going to try to do a better job at the holiday informing...and since I wasn't at work Sunday, I missed Create A Vacuum Day. I thought I better not miss another holiday in the same week!!!

Today is Charles Dickens Day. Wasn't sure exactly what that meant, so I did a little research - turns out today is his birthday. (Don't you know I'll be informing you of Bekah Day when it arrives, then!)

So for you Charles Dickens fans - today is a day of celebration. Have some cake and ice cream - and an extra helping for him, since I'm fairly sure that he can't have any.

IN my research, the particular site I was on said today was also Laura Ingalls Wilder's birthday. Phats is laughing already - I can tell. I know, I know, the Little House on the Prairie obsession has gone on too long. Really I'm not nearly as obsessed with it as I used to be. In fact, I never see it anymore. I think it's only aired when I'm at work. And I can't rattle off the titles like I used to be able to do. AND - you should be so proud - I still haven't purchased a season of it to own.

But anyway, you can celebrate Charles' birthday if you want. I'll have some cake for Laura.

And I'll report back next week for the next big holiday. Hint - that one is a major one, so let this be a reminder to those of you who have chocolate/flower purchasing obligations! You have one week!

My Attempt at Extra Effort

I may not own a jersey - although I do now have a Colts shirt! - but I can do my nails to support the team! I wanted to do horseshoes on all nails, but they're hard to draw - especially when I was using my left hand!

Here's a closeup. Hey - I never said I didn't have chubby fingers.

Super Bowl!!

I have received many skeptical comments about my participation in this year's Super Bowl. Don't get me wrong. I almost always go to a party. But that's mostly because I can talk, eat, and take pictures for my scrapbook. Why miss such an opportunity?

But this year, since the Colts participated, so did I. Mom bought me a shirt...my very first ever sports shirt! She called me from the store to see if I wanted long or short sleeves. Since I'm never cold, I told her short. And then it was -700 degrees that day, so I had to put long sleeves under it. Good grief.

The party I went to was a lot of fun - but the people weren't really sports fans! And I know NOTHING about football. So finally, at nearly halftime, I said to this one guy in the room, "Hey - are you a Colts fan?" He said he was, and I said, "Okay, well I'm going to need you to react just a little bit bigger so I know when to clap."

I think I became the personal project of two or three there. I didn't mean to actually learn about football. I just meant to get a clapping cue. But they tried to teach me about downs and yards and all that jazz.

But let it be known, I was the only one at the party that showed up in a team shirt....and of course, the nails to match!

Sunday, February 4, 2007

It’s been a while since I had a good cooking story. And it could be that after you read this, you’ll say, “It’s still been a while since you had a good cooking story.” But I would like to tell you the tale of the hummus.

I have some friends (a married couple) who have an annual movie marathon party at their house. They invite me every year, but so far, I’ve been unable to go. They asked early this time, and I wasn’t busy, so I put the party on my calendar. This year, the theme was Indiana Jones. They planned to watch all the movies…of which I’d seen none. They wanted to theme all the food around his travels. Well of course it’s too much to ask for Mr. Jones to have stayed in normal cities like Chicago or Los Angeles. No….he had to travel the world and stay in places that eat things while said things are still alive.

Allow me to first say that I’m a good cook. I mean, I don’t like to toot my own horn, and I certainly have had my share of culinary disasters, but I love to cook, and I’ve developed a decent amount of skill. But I took one look at the list of country options on the food list for the party and knew I was in big trouble. So I told my friends – why don’t you just tell me what I should make, since I don’t even know what people in these countries eat?

Hummus.

That was my assignment. It seemed vaguely familiar – as though I’d seen an episode of Rachael Ray when hummus was on the menu. That scared me. I watch Rachael Ray all the time – but more out of fascination of what she can do in thirty minutes than actual interest in making what she makes.

I hopped on the Food Network website and found a few hummus recipes. But they called for something called tahini. To me, that’s a bikini in Tahiti. WHAT IS TAHINI? I’VE NEVER HEARD OF IT! So I went to someone at work and asked her. Well she didn’t know either, but she informed me of someone else that I know who loves hummus. So I wrote to her. She not only told me about hummus, but she sent me a recipe – which called for the famous tahini. So I wrote back to ask about that. She explained it a little and I felt ready to make hummus.

Problem #1 – I own zero necessary ingredients. So, once payday hit, I went around town gathering ingredients. Extra Virgin Olive Oil (I learned all about EVOO from Rachael) - $3.99. 2 cans of garbanzo beans (ick!) - $.47 each. Lemon juice (my jar was about 6 years too old, so I bought new) - $.99. Water – well, as long as the pipes didn’t freeze, that, I had. Salt – check. 4 garlic cloves – no thank you. I’ll use the lovely powder I have in my spice rack. Pita bread to dip in it - $1.24. Carrots to dip in it - $69. Celery to dip in it - $.99. Tahini – DOES NOT EXIST IN MY COUNTY.

I tried Wal-Mart first. No luck. (Big shock.) So I headed to the local supermarket around 9 p.m. in search of tahini. As I walked out the door of my house, I also realized I’d loaded the garlic powder into my new (and fabulous) spice rack, so I no longer had the jar to tell me how much powder equaled a clove. So the first item of business at the supermarket was to ransack the spice aisle until I found a jar that would give me the measurement. With that located, I looked for tahini. No luck.

So I went to the checkout. Mind you, I was the only customer in the store at that hour. Two employees were chatting at the register, so I asked them if they’d heard of tahini. Blank stares. Yeah, I feel that pain. They were so sweet, though, and got out their own personal cell phones and started calling friends AT HOME to look it up online to find out more about it so they could see if they carried it in stock. Now that is service. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. No tahini.

I gave up and went home, determined that the next day would be better. I got up early (we are now to party day) and drove across town to a bigger supermarket. Guess what? No tahini. So I went to the deli and said to the nice lady behind the counter, “Do you sell hummus?” She pointed to a little tub in the corner. THAT is hummus? It was so little! I thought I better buy two. ($5.98).

Determined to use at least ONE of the previously purchased ingredients, I went home and brushed EVOO on the pita bread and toasted the chips in the oven. There. That felt slightly homemade.

Party time came, and I dug the hummus tubs out of my overnight bag. I handed them to Chris and he said to me, “Hey, you cheated! This is a homemade food party.”

Need I explain the glare he received???

So…$14.82 later, I learned something about myself. I hate hummus. The pita bread wasn’t bad, but the hummus – ICK.

I think I’ll stick to spinach dip from now on. I’m much more familiar with things centered around sour cream.

Missin My Girl

Six years ago today, my phone rang at work. It was before the days of caller ID, so there was no way I could know that the voice on the other end would belong to my roommate. And there was absolutely no way I could have been prepared for her news.

She said to me, "Bekah, Carol died."

I wasn't sure what that meant. I asked.

"Baby Carol. She died this afternoon."

No - see, that just couldn't be. I just saw her a few days ago. The Super Bowl party. I sat in the living room and held her. She was fine. She screamed because I wasn't her Mom, but that wasn't unusual. And besides...today was her six month birthday. She couldn't be dead...it was a birthday of sorts.

Carol wasn't my daughter. She wasn't even my flesh and blood. But sitting through nineteen hours of labor with her parents and videotaping her entrance into the world made her mine in that special place of my heart...that place that "aunts" know about.

I wasn't ready to say goodbye to her when I'd only just said hello. I wasn't ready to give up Monday nights hanging out with her and her Mom while her Dad went to class. I wasn't ready to stop trying to get her to like me even though I wasn't her Mom.

But God had other plans for our baby girl. He needed her, evidently. I still don't understand why, but I've come to learn to just trust Him on those things.

Even so...I miss her. I play with her little sister and baby brother and wonder what life would be like with a six year old in the mix. I keep her picture up all over my house and office. I think of her often and miss her terribly.

Baby Carol...I haven't forgotten you. I miss you today and all days.

Not Dead Yet

Today is January 31st. This means I have officially - and may I add, successfully - completed my first month of the "covenants and commitments" I made for the new year.

It has been one weird month. Weird to want a snack and opt for a graham cracker over 3 chocolate chip cookies and a side of M&Ms. Weird to have leftovers for five days because I actually eat only one helping at each meal. Weird to have wheat toast in the morning instead of the traditional white bread. Weird to have only one floofy coffee drink a week instead of four - and for the one to be lowfat and sugar free. Weird to not call it a day until I've exercised and flossed. Weird to be adamant that some portion of my weekend be spent cleaning the house thoroughly.

But it's been one good month, too. Marie was right (ick!). Praying through the armor of God each day DOES impact my attitude in a good way. Reading - and actually studying my faith verse (and surrounding text) each night is teaching me much more than my marathon fly-through of the Bible in a year. It's nice to not have to suck in SO much to zip my jeans. (Still, God bless the person who invented stretch.) Granted the scales only show a lack of five pounds, but this working out thing - it is doing weird and wonderful things that I like. Makes it easier to stomach one serving at a meal and only a graham cracker for a snack.

There's more - but I've rattled on enough. Accountability has been good. It's much easier to remember to order a salad over fries when I know on Sunday I'm going to be asked what kind of choices I made. And it pushes me to actually pick up the phone and call someone when I know she's going to say "Did you make contacts with people as God prompted you to do it?"

What is it they say? Thirty days makes a habit? Well, I don't know I'm to habit stage yet, but at least it's not such a gargantuan effort.

And so far -the elliptical has not ACTUALLY killed me.

Holiday Alert!

Tomorrow is National Popcorn Day.

I'd feel terrible if people didn't get an opportunity to celebrate because I failed to inform them of the opportunity!!! Popcorn, caramel corn, toffee popcorn, kettle corn, chocolate covered popcorn, cheesy popcorn...is there a bad kind out there?

Perhaps the day was invented to allow people a reason to finish the stale crumbs of those massive triple combo tins they received at Christmas. You know what I mean. You're employed. It wouldn't be Christmas if our office didn't receive about three of those by the close of the food-giving season.

I'm going to try to stay on top of these holidays. I have a new calendar that reminds me of such important things...but I didn't get the calendar out until this week, so I've already missed Trivia Day (probably would haven't done so great anyway), Bean Day (what's the point?), Bubble Bath Day (rats!), Peculiar People Day (probably celebrate that one every day), Dress Up Your Feet Day (it was a Sunday, so chances are I caught that one by default), Penguin Awareness Day (I am aware of penguins), National Hugging Day (also a Sunday, so I'm sure I covered that one during greeting time in the morning service), Measure Your Feet Day (WHY? They're huge enough by sight alone), Opposite Day (still pondering this one), and Kazoo Day (thankfully). I'll try to do a better job in February.

But until then - Happy National Popcorn Day! Wonder if anyone gets the day off for this?

Sunday, January 28, 2007

The sermon was hardly into its second paragraph this morning before I was squirming in my pew. I knew before he even started preaching that something was meant for me today, because I was distracted all over the place – one of Satan’s favorite tactics for stealing my attention when there are words meant (if only in part) for me. And once I realized where the sermon was going, I knew why it was for me. Hence the squirming.

It really started last Monday. Before I’d even gotten out of bed to face the week, I was scribbling away in my journal an area of struggle that had intensified over the weekend. I desperately wanted to go one direction but was fairly certain God intended me to stay on course in the opposite direction. I opened my Joyce Meyer devotional book (Starting/Ending Your Day Right) and read these words of hers: Ask God to put into your spirit what He wants you to know. Ask Him to show you things to come and what you are supposed to do. He will give you direction, and you will have much to praise Him for today.

I tried that – but the struggle didn’t lessen any. So that night, when I sat down with Joyce, part 2, I got a real lecture: It is not your job to give God guidance, counsel, or direction. It is your job to listen to God and let Him tell you what is going on and what you are to do about it – leaving the rest to Him to work out according to His knowledge and will, not yours. God is God – and you are not. You need to recognize that truth and simply trust yourself to Him, because He is greater than you are in every way. You are created in His image, but He is still above and beyond you. His thoughts and ways are higher than yours. So listen to God…be obedient to Him, and He will teach you His ways.

Point taken.

Tuesday arrived and I went for my weekly lunch-hour visit at the prayer chapel. I didn’t hide from God the struggle that was still raging in me – there’s no point in that anyway. I remembered that years ago, when I was reading Elisabeth Elliot’s book Passion and Purity, there was a phrase that went like this: God gives us material for sacrifice. And there I sat, on the front pew of that chapel, staring at a very sturdy altar. God was nudging me, and I knew it. Get over there and offer this struggle as a sacrifice. So I “got” over there and started offering. Should have done it three days earlier!

Feeling that my faith-walk for the year would now be back on a fast track, since that was out of the way, I sailed into Wednesday with high hopes. That day, I was reading updates on Josh Buck (if you’ve not heard about Josh, you should go to www.greenhouseministries.org and read the whole story – and pray for him!). His friends added parts of his first spoken thoughts since his accident the week before. Among his first words: If you’re going to believe this faith, you can’t just believe in a little bit of it; you have got to believe the whole thing.

If a man my age, who is suddenly facing the possibility of permanent paralysis can say those words and mean them, then I have no excuse not to do the same. And God pointed to those words and informed me that I was trying to pick and choose my way through my faith.

God punctuated Josh’s one-sentence sermon by the words in my God Calling devotional: You pray for faith, and you are told to do so…Do not want to see the road ahead. Just go one step at a time. I very rarely grant the long vista to my disciples, especially in personal affairs, for one step at a time is the best way to cultivate faith. You are in uncharted waters. But the Lord of all seas is with you, the Controller of all storms is with you…It was when the disciples gave up effort after a night of fruitless fishing that I came, and the nets brake with the overabundance of supply.
I scratched out the parts of my prayer where I was asking for long term information and instead narrowed my focus to the step ahead.

Well, that brings me to last night, when Joyce Meyer’s devotional struck again: God wants to take care of you, and He can do a much better job of it if you will avoid a problem called independence, which is really self-care. The desire to take care of yourself is based on fear. You are afraid of what might happen if you entrust yourself totally to God and He doesn’t come through for you. The root problem of independence is you trust yourself more than you trust God. People love to have a backup plan. You may ask God to get involved in your life, but if He doesn’t respond as quickly as you’d like, you take control back into your own hands.

I’m the queen of the backup plan. In fact, the entire experience in the prayer chapel on Tuesday was the sacrifice of a backup plan. Plan A (a.k.a. God’ plan) seems to be standing still, so I was anxious to get to Plan B (appropriately – Bekah’s plan).

And so this morning, I sat in church, while Pastor Brian spoke about Samuel hearing the voice of the Lord – and how many calls it took for him to understand it was God speaking. And Pastor Brian asked us how many times God had called to us to follow Him. I didn’t want to tell him it was about 437 just this week. I just squirmed.

So even though Plan A doesn’t make any sense right now, I’ve learned that I’m not calling the shots, I’m not meant to see the long range plan, I better not have a backup plan, and if I do have one, I better sacrifice it immediately. What I can do is ask God to show me the next step and to live this faith to the fullest. Not just a little bit.

How to Spend $34

I enjoy spending money. I don't do much of it, but I enjoy it. Here are some of my favorite ways to spend $34.

* 34 Whopper Juniors at Burger King. Not all at once.

* 9 fluffy coffee drinks. Not all at once.

* 54 Polar Teas. (Replacing the Polar Pops.)

* 68 items of clothing at a really good yard sale. (A rare find that that many 50 cent items would be worth having.)

* 7 items at Fashion Bug. (Assuming I hit a good sale and have coupons.)

* 2 CD's at my local Christian bookstore (BIG gamble that the ones I want are actually in stock...another story for another day when I've calmed down.)

* 7 books on the sale table.

You get the idea.

Wanna hear how I actually spent $34 today?

It was the fastest departure of said amount that I've ever encountered in my pet-mothering years.

I took Kaegan to the vet. Last week I noticed that he'd ripped about a quarter size piece of fur off his belly and was scratching and licking his skin until it was red and raw. I warned him that if he didn't stop, he'd have to go to the vet. I thought that was threat enough.

See, I took him to the vet when he was three months old. He lost his claws. I took him to the vet when he was six months old. He lost his manhood. I took him to the vet about two months after that for a rather annoying projectile pooping issue. The receptionist failed to suggest that I also bring a sample (which would have been oh so easy, yet gross, to collect), so they had to do a kitty-colonoscopy to dig out a sample. He hated me for quite a while after that. I figured with said experiences behind him, he'd be receptive to straightening up on his own.

I was wrong.

Quite frankly, I was worried I wouldn't even be able to catch him and put him in the carrier to get him to the vet. He knows that little box can't lead to anything good. But despite my worries, I donned my thickest winter coat and gloves, held him tight and got him in the carrier. He literally howled all the way to the vet. I cried all the way to the vet.

Once inside they weighed him (in the carrier) and the vet and I waited while Mr. Kaegan worked up the nerve to exit the carrier. I held him down, and the vet pulled up one of Kaegan's hind legs, rubbed the raw spot, and said, "He probably just irritated it. I'll give you some salve." Those two sentences cost me $34. I forked out another $7 for the salve - which I can only hope gets remotely near the sore. So much easier to apply when there are two people to one cat.

This is why Alaska is NOT for me

Those of you who know me well know that I hate driving in the winter. My Dad, bless his heart, insisted upon chauffeuring me around in the winter when I was in high school and even college. He'd drive to campus and take me places. I never fought him very hard because I was so scared of snow and ice. But now I wish I'd have insisted a little more that I learn to drive on this stuff, because here I am now, a full grown adult, and I still hate snow and ice. And even more than my own disdain of driving on it...I'm always worried I'll wipe out someone ELSE with my own stupidity and lack of ability. So when it gets really bad, I stay home.

Sunday morning, I woke up about 5:30 - which is normally a good reason to just flop over in bed and go back to sleep for 2 more hours - but I remembered that we had a snow forecast, so I got up just to see if there was snow. No snow. WOO HOO!!!! I flopped back into bed and slept until about 8. Got up - SNOW. Everywhere. About four inches of it. Might as well be four feet, where I'm concerned.

I decided to at least start getting ready for church and see how things progressed. I was still in my jammies, with one half of my hair straightened and the other half sticking straight up in a clip (reminiscient of Boo in Monsters Inc.) when my doorbell rang. No one ever rings my doorbell - ESPECIALLY at 8:30 on a Sunday morning. It was my Dad. No, he had not come to take me to church. He was on HIS way to sing at an early church service and had stopped to use my phone to call Mom to warn her the roads hadn't been touched. As he left, he said to me, "They're bad, if you want to stay home."

Let me just say - when Dad gives permission to skip church - those must be some nasty old roads.

Even with his blessing, though, I could not feel good about missing church. I knew if it were a work day, the idea of skipping wouldn't even be considered. If I could make it to work, I could make it to church. Besides...I had to get out sometime to return movies - and if I could do that - I had better get to church. Turning in my tithe was more valuable than acquiring a late fee.

I'd just worked up my nerve to go when I heard a last chorus of a song from my Dad's radio program, which was playing downstairs..."But just think of stepping on shore and finding it Heaven." GREAT. Why did he have to play THAT one today?

Even so, I climbed in the car and began my own rousing rendition of Jesus, Take the Wheel - and I meant every word. I got as far as Wal Mart and said, "I can't do this. I just can't." So I pulled into Wal-Mart to turn around, but they hadn't cleared their lot yet. So I slid and bounced all around my turn-around attempt and as I sat by the road, waiting to pull out, I said, "Well if I can do that, I can drive on the road." So I got back on the path and drove like a 90 year old woman all the way to church. I prayed for green lights and no cars. I got most of my wishes.

But boy - what a meltdown when I got to church! I walked straight to the bathroom and started bawling. One of our pastors even told his wife to give me a hug because he thought I could use one.

THIS is why, despite the number of men living in Alaska, I cannot move there. If I uproot at all, it's going to have to be to the south.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

It’s been a thankful sort of week for me. Friday, I posted a blog about how thankful I am for all the things my parents taught me…a surge of thankfulness brought on after I watched George O’Malley say goodbye to his father Thursday night on Grey’s Anatomy.

But even before that reminder hit, I had a thankful sort of week. Good things happened – and I even found a few hiding in the hard parts.

* I eagerly climbed on the scales (don’t ever look for that phrase again) Monday morning to see how much I’d lost – and the number remained firm from the Monday before. I started to get mad and head to the kitchen for a cookie, but I reminded myself that it’s not all about the pounds. As the week went on, I found myself not sucking in quite so hard to button my clothes. So even though the pink Princess scales may be firmly fixed, I think things are changing – and that is good news.

* My visit to the dentist was uneventful – which never happens in Bekahland. I got a gentle hygienist, the Today Show was running an hour-long special on the highs and lows of the Golden Globes, and I have no cavities. AND I weaseled my way out of the fluoride treatment and a lecture on flossing. That might possibly be my best visit to date!

* Tuesday’s visit to the prayer chapel during lunch turned out to be a great time. I went in expecting God to say something, and He sure did! I even got goose bumps! I know you can’t base everything on goose bumps, but it sure is nice when they show up every now and then.

* Wednesday, when I felt like the day was a total loss, I found a card in my mailbox…just a note from a friend thanking me for being me. And the words on the card, written by Luci Swindoll, said, “Vision is when you see it and others don’t. Faith is when you do it and others won’t.” What a great reminder to keep on the road of faith!

* Friday, everyone in our office got a free coffee. And by that, I mean free coffee drink of our choice. For me, naturally, it meant a big fluffy drink – sugar free, of course. Remember item one on the list? Anyway, what is it about being offered a free coffee that can suddenly make you feel like the employee of the month? Such a little thing – but so big.

* Yesterday I had a great day of fun scrapbooking with a bunch of scrapaholics. I didn’t turn out pages as fast as I usually do…but I had a wonderful time just enjoying the process. Thinking up designs. Sharing ideas. Trying something different. As I drove to the church where the crop was held, I was talking to Mom on the phone, and she asked if I had any friends going with me. I said no, and then I backed up and said, “Well, except the ones I met through scrapping at that church.” And I realized that is a blessing in itself! These are people I never see outside of scrap days, but they are still friends. And that’s a good thing.

* My elliptical machine is assembled, functional, and killing me. I’m thankful for the extra working-out option, and I’m thankful for friends who were willing to assemble it for me. Furthermore, I’m thankful they were willing to accept a home cooked dinner as payment. (Even more thankful that it was a successful dinner and two new keeper recipes were found!)

* Probably most of all, I’m thankful for the blessing of things not always working out the way I ask God for them to happen. He’s reminded me in a very specific way this week of just where I’d be if He’d said yes to something I wanted. It’s hard to find thankfulness in a no at the moment you hear the no. It’s much easier to see the point of it years down the road. But it’s this new thing I’m learning. I’m trying to be thankful for the no at the moment…not because I understand why it’s happening, but rather because I know there is a reason, and whether or not I ever know what it is, it’s a good one. Because the One making the decisions is completely trustworthy.

Gratefulness

I will admit it. I cried all the way through Grey's Anatomy last night. Part of it was relief that I had an excuse to cry after a particularly soul-confusing day. Part of it was great acting by the cast. And part of it was the reminder of reality. Watching George (whom I love) say goodbye to his dad way before he should have had to do so...well it reminded me that I don't know when my own turn will come.

In those moments, I realize how really grateful for my parents I am. I pick on them. I roll my eyes. I shake my head. I pick fights every now and then. That's what kids do. As I used to tell them, "Should have thought about that before you had me." But for all my picking and eye rolling and argument starting, I love them and don't like to think about the day when I can't pick on them anymore.

This morning, as I listened to Money Matters on the radio, I heard the hosts talking about teaching kids about money. And I remember the day when I was about six and Mom sat me down in the living room and started me on a one dollar a week allowance, all paid in dimes. She taught me to make envelopes (yay! a craft project!) for tithe...and savings...and spending...and vacation...and Christmas. She taught me to divide up my dimes and manage my money all year long. Because she did that, she taught me a great skill that I still use today. (Thankfully work doesn't pay me in dimes.) I've learned that a lot of people my own age are skilled at credit card use, but not at budgeting. I'm grateful she taught me that.

I'm grateful that Dad told me Bible stories every night before I went to bed and that he let me take quizzes (when I was in kindergarten) alongside his high school Bible History students - and I beat some of them. I'm grateful they both taught me to go to church unless I was puking, no matter if I felt like going. I'm grateful they stuck to their convictions even when their choices were unpopular and no one understood them. My convictions are sometimes different from theirs, but at least I know how to stick to my passions.

They taught me to go to work - to be early and stay late. They taught me to treat my possessions well and to love the underdog. They fostered my love of reading and writing and respsected my wish (eventually) to quit playing the piano. They sacrificed so I could go to a college I couldn't afford and even let me take Lloyd (the really old car) when I moved on campus.

Dad loves his grandcats and Mom tolerates them. They have let me grow up and be me. And for all of this - I'm grateful.

Golden Girl vs. Golden Tickets

Well...I watched all four hours of the American Idol auditions and have decided, hands down, that my first pick of the season for WHAT?!?! is definitely the golden girl from Seattle. I even watched her audition twice tonight. I watched it when it aired, and then I played it back at the end for Jessica and Sharon, who showed up just after she sang - or whatever.

And I still have no words. The hair...the shirt...the tennis shoes...the song...I have no words. The worst part is now that song is going to be stuck in my head all night. I do have to say, though, in her defense, that she exited gracefully. I much prefer her composed and dignified departure to the guy from Minneapolis whose farewell speech was more bleeped than not. So for that - good job, Golden Girl.

As for my favorites after week one...well...if only I could remember their names. I'm terrible with names. The competition will probably be to the final three before I know who is who. But by description, I really liked the girl from Minneapolis who had the rough life story. I thought she had a great attitude, she was confident but not ridiculous, and I liked her voice. I also liked the guy from the USS Reagan...for a variety of reasons. :) Tonight my picks were the girl with the brown curly hair whose Dad played in the NFL. I just liked her. I also liked the really really tall girl - because she was sassy. Simon needs some sass up against him every now and then.

So those are my picks for week one. Christina? Phats? Closet fans? Thoughts?

Christina Tagged Me

I never even PLAYED tag when I was little (chubby girls don't run well) but I sure am the tag favorite on blogger! :) It's okay - it's kind of fun. This one is different from the one Phats hit me with before Christmas.

1). What's the most fun work you've ever done, and why? (two sentences max) – Though not a lucrative career, my most fun work was when I used to do child care for the pastors’ camp when I was part of the Quaker church. The denomination held a four day camp for pastors and families at the campgrounds, so I worked mornings and evenings – playing with babies – and then got free housing, free food (GOOD food) and my whole afternoon to play at the beach – AND I got paid!

2A.) Name one thing you did in the past that you no longer do but wish you did. (one sentence max – I used to be fairly good at sign language, and I miss it now that I’ve stopped practicing regularly.

B.) Name one thing you've always wanted to do but keep putting off. (one sentence max) – I have been putting off the attempt of publishing a book…but it’s one of my 25 commitments/covenants this year, so I at least have to try!

3A.) What two things would you most like to learn or be better at, and why? (two sentences max) – Well, I’d like to be better at driving…I hate city driving and winter driving because I’ve never had that much experience at it and I’m just too old to pull a whiny excuse about it now. I also wish I were better at yard stuff…now that I have a house of my own, I need to make it look put together from the outside too.

B.) If you could take a class/workshop/apprentice from anyone in the world living or dead, who would it be and what would you hope to learn? (two more sentences, max) – I would love to study under Beth Moore, both to absorb some of her hunger for the Bible and to learn how to write and relate like she does.

4) A. What three words might your best friends or family use to describe you? – OCD (hopefully in a good way), hospitable, dependable

B. List two words you wish described you – spontaneous, adventuresome

5) What are your top three passions? (can be current or past, work, hobbies, or causes-- three sentences max) – I’m working on developing my relationship with God, trying to discern my next steps on this faith walk He has me on, and growing as a writer.

So there you have it!! If I were going to tag someone else, I'd pick Amy R. and Kristin - and call this five weeks' worth of LBS "question of the night."

A Brand New Season

I try to keep my blog relatively free of commentary regarding my television shows...except when they lead to trips to Paris. It's not that I find it offensive when people discuss their shows...it's just that I quite frankly never think of it.

But tomorrow night...in less than twenty-four hours now...a brand new season of Idol begins. Oh boy - I just lost a couple of you on that one, didn't I? You thought I had some sense to me and now I've admitted I'm just a shallow member of the reality TV world? Technically not true. Idol is my only reality show. I even gave up on the Bachelor after the ridiculousness of one season made me mad. (Couldn't even tell you now which season it was.)

I missed the first season of Idol entirely and only happened upon the hilarious auditions of season two during a channel surf. I stopped surfing and found myself hooked. I was a Clay fan to the bitter end, and though I said I didn't care who won between Mr. Aiken and Mr. Studdard, I lied. I wanted Clay to win.

Here's the thing about the show...I get so stinking opinionated!! There's always the one singer that lasts about eleven rounds too long and the one that is eliminated without warning and certainly without fairness, and the one person that no one else agrees with me about, but I know I'm right anyway. And I take it all as personally as I possibly can. So anyway - I'll try not to drone on and on about it as the weeks pass, but if I get caught up, I might not be able to control that very well.

At any rate, I love the first night every season - I love laughing at the bizarre display of lack of talent. In fact, in my scrapbook from last year's Idol kickoff party (yes, I watch with friends), there is a picture of me face down on the floor trying not to spit out my coffee while a girl tried to go up the down escalator in heels and a dress. Hey, it was a good moment for scrapbook history, if nothing else.

So with all that said, please, my blogging friends, do not abandon me now. It could be a very good season.

Keyboards and Pink Fuzzy Sweaters

It is so GOOD to be blogging from my very own uncomfortable wooden folding chair. After fourteen days of internetlessness (like that word?) at home, my hard drive is feeling better and my faulty keyboard has been found out and discarded. Thank you, Jim, for letting me borrow yours until I can get a replacement! I told my Mom I feel like a smoker who was just handed a pack. Not my finest analogy, but amazingly enough, she laughed.

So now that I'm back in the game, I thought I'd post a couple of pictures...you know...because I can. Here you will see the new pink sweater that caused all the fuzzies (post somewhere below) at work this week. I didn't wear the scarf at work, but I do love it. Very sassy.

And the other picture is just another random Christmas one. Those are my parents...and in the background, the tree that Braeya knocked over. (Obviously picked back up before Christmas Day.)