IS IT WRONG TO PRAY FOR A CHICKEN?

I really like my chickens! They're all banties and, specifically, Cochin Banties which means they have feathers all the way down their legs. 


Our first batch of chickens (6, I believe) have long since been taken from us either by wild critters or our own dog who thinks of them as playthings. No matter that he's 70# and they weigh no more than three--given the opportunity he'll bat them around and wonder why they don't keep getting up. Someone said they'd get rid of the dog. But my response is that I had the dog before I had the chickens so he comes first. Besides, he's a Lab and part of this is in his DNA. His nature is to track down and retrieve--most often birds.


About a year and a half ago, when my Grandson suggested he'd like to see baby chicks again, we took the plunge and ordered 25 day old chicks from a supplier. They came in the mail! My husband picked them up at the post office.


We successfully raised them for a number of weeks until they were nearly grown when our Lab broke into their housing arrangement killing about half of them. I've never seen my husband more distraught and he gave Jake a wide berth for quite some time. But more than half did survive including Lady Grey, my favorite. Lady Grey isn't pictured here but like Dottie above, she's the same size and build but with soft grey feathers similar to what  you might find on a morning dove.

We've since had a very sturdy facility built to house our "babies" and have been successful at keeping them for over a year and a half with a relatively small attrition rate. The fact is, chickens die all on their own from time to time for no apparent reason. And we've tried to even the odds of getting colors I prefer by finding good homes for extra roosters. My husband carved out a little chicken door complete with ladder for them to walk up and down in the evening to go to bed and in the morning to come out and walk in the 1/4 acre garden. They do a good job of keeping the bug population down in the garden.

We currently have 9 full grown hens who give us 2-4 eggs per day and 3 roosters one of which will be given to a good home in a few days because A. we don't need THREE roosters for that many hens and, B. he's black and I just happen to prefer the lighter colors in our flock unless their feathers (like Dottie's above) are particularly interesting. Our little black rooster and his little black sister are babies raised by our own little hens. They're about 3 mos. old and he's beginning to crow so it's time to ship him off to his own little harem and let our white rooster, Mephitophlez, do the job he shares with Covert, the World's Ugliest Rooster!


In addition, we also have most recently, five babies that have hatched over the last few weeks (4 yellow and one black--yeah--he/she will probably also find a new home when it's grown up).


Every night when they've gone to bed, I check to make sure they're all safely enscounsed and close up all the doors to their shed. I do a head count but the other night Lady Grey came up missing. She may have been missing the night before, but my husband had closed them up while I was out and he doesn't do head counts--chickens are fine with him but not so much his "thing". 


I worried about her and did a brief garden check to see if there was sign of a struggle but to no avail and no matter how hard I searched for her in the shed, she simply wasn't in some hard to see corner and didn't come out in the morning for feed.


Most of the morning I felt bad for losing her trying to figure out what went wrong in all our safety procedures. For the most part, our chickens have heavy cover from hawks. So what could have happened to her was a mystery. I must admit, I did pray for her. Is that wrong when God has so many other things to worry about?


Shortly after noon, I heard some squawking on the north side of the garden and, though this is not uncommon, I decided to investigate. And, sure enough, there was Lady Gray--on the other side of the garden fence in our neighbor's yard! Pacing back and forth, it was clear she knew she was on the other side of the fence and she knew where she should be--back in our garden! 


My husband and I were able to scoop her up and let her fly to safety in our garden where she quickly grabbed a snack and headed for the chicken house to lay an egg!


Did my prayer work? And how had she survived one, possibly two, nights away from safety? I have no idea. But she's home safe and sound now and that's all that matters and my faith in God, though it never wavered, certainly was once again justified!


Peace and love,


Carol

I'M IN IT FOR THE HUGS

I've been wanting to write about this for some time now so here goes!

I grew up in a pretty straight-laced German based family in the NW suburbs of Chicago. Touching one another was not that common and then in only appropriate places. Pecks on the cheek were more common. For example, I was allowed to kiss my mother on her cheek when she tucked me into bed at night. Otherwise, the closest she came to touching me would be when she'd allow me into her lap for comfort. The best was when she would be talking or singing (she had a beautiful voice) and I could hear her voice as I rested my head on her chest. The memories of those soft reverberations are still with me.

In the frequent large family gatherings, touching was simply not done. And, if it was, it had to be in only "appropriate" places. The occasional pat on the back was acceptable. Hugging was rarely performed.

My father was from the deep south (Georgia) where touching, especially in the form of hugs, was another story.  On the rare occasions when we visited his family, I knew to brace myself for the hugs that would accompany greetings or leavings. Those were the only hugs I was familiar with and I dutifully endured them. But as I said, those occasions were years apart.

I was, of course, aware that there were other kinds of touching suitable between married couples. But that kind of touching outside the bounds of marriage was frowned upon and girls who allowed that were thought of as loose. I grew up thinking that it was okay for my parents to touch me in certain ways so as to examine my body for injury or infection. The same kind of touch was okay from a doctor. Otherwise, touches of that nature and more were reserved for my someday husband.

At 21, I married a man who was also from the deep south, Mississippi to be exact. I never had any problem with him touching me in any way he wanted--after our vows were spoken--or at least pretty close to that time! But I'd have to steel myself for visits to his part of the world where hugs were more common-placed and I'd be expected to endure them on a more frequent basis. Still, touching of certain parts of the body were strictly reserved for my husband.

I remember a visit early in our marriage traveling in the summer in an un-air-conditioned car (which was pretty common back in the early '60s. My fair skin, hidden away in the Northern cloudier climes was not accustomed to the sun and I burned easily through the car windows and when getting out of the car to stretch my legs. The parts of my body that burned included my arms and upper chest.

When we arrived at my husband's home, his step-mother immediately saw my pain and being a nurse and mother came out of the house armed with a pain relieving salve. Instead of handing me the lotion to put on myself, she grabbed me to put it on my upper chest--a place reserved for touching by only my husband! Mortified, I suddenly inexplicably found myself in the school yard across the street crying and trembling when my husband caught up with me! That's how unaccustomed I was to being touched.

Today's society is far more relaxed (thank goodness!). Everyone everywhere seems to greet one another with hugs (which is actually less germ laden than a handshake!). Of course, we're still careful about inappropriate touching but hugs seem to be the norm rather than the exception and I've grown to love them. I gladly accept them and offer them freely to those I care about. There is just something so wonderful about that human contact that soothes the soul. I can't get enough of them and I'm so glad I've changed to accept them freely.

Hugs today are shared not only between men and women on a non-romantic but nonetheless caring basis, but also between two women and two men with no thought of any untoward connotations. I love it! I really think this is what life is all about. Literally reaching out and touching another human allows that human to feel accepted and loved on so many different and appropriate levels.

So if we ever meet, dear reader, remember--I'm in it for the hugs! and feel free to share one of yours with me!

Peace and love,

Carol

ON PAINTING

On a recent visit to my son's place in Vancouver, WA, I told him I'd be willing to help paint his house but to be forewarned, I was a very messy painter!  I knew this was true--I've done my share of painting!--but the view was further reinforced just the other day.


You see, I'm on a remodeling kick of my own. Don't know if it was inspired by my son who must get his house ready for the market or if it was just because "it's time"! We've been in this house for five years and the wallpaper (which I'm sure wasn't new when we bought the place) is beginning to fade. Besides, there's sheet flooring in the bathrooms and since they're small anyway, we figure it's a good time to upgrade to ceramic tile. 


But you know how it is. You can't do just one thing to a room because it makes the rest of the room look shabby. And if you're going to do the floors and have any ideas of doing anything else, you'd best do the "anything else" first as the floors are the last thing you want to do. Thus, I've literally been on a tear the last couple of weeks.


Tearing off the wallpaper, tearing out the shower doors (which I happen to hate!), tearing down the register in the ceiling because it's yellowed with age, etc., etc., etc.  Now, finally, it's time to paint. The only problem is, I haven't completely decided on what color!


Well--not totally. I basically want a white bathroom with gold accents but a little dab of color here and there wouldn't hurt. Since I'd done some faux painting in my kitchen when we remodeled it a few years ago, I thought I'd attempt that in the bathroom. The base color is easy, the rest is still, at this writing, pretty unresolved. Oh well, I digress. I could at least put on the primer and paint the ceiling--all white--and even the base coat--also white. So now the adventure begins!


None of the bathrooms in this house are very large which explains why we can afford to put ceramic tile in them both at the same time.  But, bathrooms are still bathrooms with barely an unconflicted wall or space. In other words, there's something to work around on every wall! But, honestly, to paint this small room really shouldn't take that long--maybe an hour at best?!


I've been smart enough to don my "paint clothes" as I've approached the job. Still, for me, getting more paint on the wall than on me is a challenge! Climbing on stools and ladders and maneuvering them in the small bathroom space is also a challenge. I didn't think much about wearing gloves while I put on primer but I've learned that even my hands aren't safe! The thing about primer is that it's made to stick to the wall--so, of course, it stuck to my hands.


Before this job, for one of the few times in my life I had fingernails that looked good enough to warrant pretty polish--even a trip to a nail salon. I said good-bye to them two weeks ago! 


And speaking of getting into the nooks and crannies (was I?), and stepping up on step stools placed in the bathtub -- well, the problem with step stools placed in the bathtub is that you have to get up and down them to refill the paint roller. Being naturally lazy and thinking always to save time and effort, I figured the job would go faster if I simply balanced the paint tray in my left arm while applying the paint with my right. It was working pretty well, too--at least for a minute. Then, while concentrating on getting the paint as far into that upper crack as possible, I began to feel something wet dripping down my side. 


To my horror, in the natural movement of my stretch, I'd tipped the tray towards me and it was running down my side into the bathtub covering the lower have of my shirt, the entire front side of my shorts (soaking through to my stomach and upper thigh), and doing a pretty good job of covering the step stool! (Note to self: buy new step stool for kitchen--this one's trashed! the paint job didn't take!).


The thing is, even though this is all "washable" paint, no matter how hard I try to scrub I simply can't reach every area that's been painted--on me! So when I go some place these days, people invariably point out some patch I've missed and say "Oh--I see what color you're using!" Now, the paint is white, and I'm white, but there's still a big contrast to my skin!


And did I mention my hair?! At my advanced age I discovered a few years ago that it was alright to give up coloring my hair because the color I was buying (a pale blond) was just about the color it was coming out--a pale gray! I can now add that it's been "frosted" with white paint--and that doesn't come off in the first washing either!


So, to my son who occasionaly reads this, you were very wise in rejecting my offer to help you paint your house and I was being very truthful. I am a messy painter! 


Having said that I wonder how much of the green paint I can keep out of my hair when I begin the faux painting! And can I claim it as a new trend in highlighting?! Somehow I doubt it! Oh well, at least it will make me ready for Christmas!


In Love and Peace!


Carol

HOW TO KEEP A CLEAN HOUSE (CONT'D)

So, what to do, what to do? About keeping a clean house?


You'd think that now that I'm retired, I'd have the answer, wouldn't you? But the very notion that I'm retired tends to conjure up all the options of what's available to me--and cleaning house is not high on the list! After all, I'm retired--I should be able to do whatever I want with my time, right? And I can assure you that cleaning house has never been high on my list of enjoyable activities.


I really have tried and from time to time I actually achieve a semblance of my goal. I've set up a cleaning schedule and try to stick to it. But things get in the way. For example, at the moment, I'm trying to remodel/redecorate my bathroom. I've got all the old wallpaper off, patched holes, even tore out a major cabinet (with the help of my husband, of course). I've sanded, scraped, brushed and scrubbed to the point where it's nearly ready to be put back together. This sort of thing doesn't happen in a 2 hour period of time!


I also belong to an exclusive organization whose meetings I need to attend at least three to four times a week to maintain my mental and emotional health. The meetings are only an hour--that's not the problem! Getting to the meetings takes a half hour and while I'm out of the house is the perfect opportunity to shop--collect more stuff!--so that one hour meeting easily stretches into a three hour block of time! When I finally get back home, there are any one of a myriad of tasks I'd rather perform than general housekeeping--besides--I have to put away that new stuff!


I guess what I'm saying is that unless you're a natural born clean and neat freak who periodically moves so that you can routinely review your stuff, keeping a neat and clean house is just not going to happen--except in those sporadic moments when the urge to clean and declutter becomes so strong that you act upon it. Things do stay nice for a while--even for some time--like three or four days; maybe you can even stretch it out for a week or two!


But slowly, the clutter creeps back into your life once again. At least that's been my experience. 


I'm working on it, though. Redecorating/remodeling the bathroom is a start. And I'm bugging my husband to work on his part--nag, nag, nag! But unless I want to get rid of him (which I don't--well, maybe occasionally, but generally not!) and all but just a very few of my animals, I guess I'm stuck!


Anyone who needs expertise can go to www.flylady.com--she's got some good tips. I've tried it but it takes a lot of self-discipline and obviously I'm short on that. Concepts are simple but so hard to carry out. Having company come for a visit also helps motivate me to put things in order. And I really do try to vacuum at least once in a while--sometimes that's even once a week! But that's a chore and I am "retired" and I'd rather blog!--and feed my chickens which I need to do!


Thanks for reading!


Peace and love,


Carol




 

HOW TO KEEP A HOUSE CLEAN (CONT'D)

As I was saying.....about housekeeping. 


I think unless you're born a natural neat freak, it's very hard for the average person to really keep house in the manner in which they'd like to become accustomed. It takes time, effort, even a passion. Once I'd learned from The Feminine Mystique (Betty Friedan) that housekeeping required the intelligence of the average nine year old child, I was kinda turned off. Besides, there were just too many other things I could use my better brain to work on!


I did occasionally hire someone to come in and clean for us. The problem with that is that you need to clean the house before they come so they can clean it! You know what I mean. How can you expect a stranger to come in and dust when all the surfaces to be dusted are full of stuff?  So, for me at least, that's the main issue--all the "stuff"! Cleaning itself is not all that difficult and can be rewarding--but what about all that clutter--all that stuff?!


There are entire organizations devoted to helping people organize their stuff so I'm guessing this is a big problem! Articles abound on the internet, in magazines, even on TV--check out H&GTV or any of the other self-help sites.  We live in an age of information and if you want to know something it's out there.


For me, the second time in my life when I had a truly clean house was when we were trying to move out of it! I think this is the subtle secret of some people. Those people whose jobs demand that they move periodically, regardless of whether it's on their dime or the someone else's, just never have the opportunity to settle and let their stuff collect! 


We were in our last house over 28 yrs.! Can you imagine all the "stuff" we'd accumulated?! Even after hiring full-sized dumpsters and refilling them on more than one occasion we still had more stuff than would fit into our next house even though it was virtually the same size! The only real difference I could see is that the new house didn't really have a useable attic--another haven for stuff one doesn't know what to do with but can't part with.


But just clearing out stuff wasn't the total answer. I had to clear out people! By the time of this last move, the kids had moved out so it was just my husband and me living in a 2400 sq. ft. house trying to move to another 2400 sq. ft. house but with all the accumulations of 40 yrs. of marriage and two kids! Now if that isn't a challenge I don't know what is!


More than half the stuff we owned was already moved into our new house and we still weren't ready to put our old house on the market! Something had to be done and we did it. The only solution I could see was for my husband to move into the new house while I stayed behind to clean up and manage the old one.


And I finally did it! There I was living by myself, in this big house and I was finally able to achieve not only a clean house, but an organized one as well. All but two of the cats moved down with my husband and all I had to do was go to work during the day and take care of the house. 


My routine was such that I would get ready for work in the morning, pick up and put everything away (some times that was the night before I went to bed), do a quick scooping of the litterpans, maybe run a quick vacuum or dust mop over the floors and leave the house with nothing in the house but the cats and the bare minimum of furniture. The house was spotless! And available for showing at any time of the day or night. I didn't care if people looked into the closets--they were neat and organized! (After all, all the stuff was in the new house!) I even overheard and got compliments from prospective buyers about how neat and clean the house was! I'd finally achieved the ultimate goal: a clean and neat house!


Of course, the part that was me wasn't really living there but that was besides the point! It could be done; it can be done! As long as I was living by myself, had a minimum of pets and nothing else to do but to make sure the house stayed clean and neat--I could do this!


Well it's that time again to go feed and check on my little chicks. Tomorrow I'll try to wrap this up with more conclusions!


Peace and love!


Carol

HOW TO KEEP A HOUSE CLEAN (CONT'D)

ON KEEPING A HOUSE CLEAN (OR CLEANING HOUSE!)

LOVE this picture! Kinda how I feel some times.

Sorry I haven't posted in a bit but have been off my feed with a chest cold of sorts that threw me off my routine. Feeling better now, thank you!

Now back to cleaning house! I've known people to work off a good mad by cleaning--actually have done it a time or two myself. But I'm more likely to dive into the chocolate (or something else!) or the computer. Putting things in order is more task than I want to devote brain cells to at the time. Actual cleaning, however, is another thing. It's a good release of energy. But most of housekeeping, for me, is being organized. And therein lies the rub!

When I was a young mother, organizing things wasn't so hard. We didn't have that much to organize. I remember going to the local Ace Hardware store (a form of entertainment to us back then) and coming home with bags and bags of "stuff" only to have it completely disappear within the confines of our house--a sure sign that what we bought was more along the line of everyday necessities rather than superfluous to our needs. But then there came the day...........

I distinctly remember getting a phone call from my husband while I was working a week end job at a real estate office. "I've found the perfect place to shop!", he excitedly told me. "And it doesn't cost anything!" Turns out, he'd found the village dump! Here he could shop to his heart's content often discovering perfectly good items discarded by others higher up on the food chain than we were. Of course, some items weren't "perfectly good"--but good enough so that with a little effort on his part they could be brought up to speed for our purposes.

And so began his "collections". I never said a whole lot because most of it went into his garage--a territory I rarely set foot in. That, and I figured, he had a right to do with his time what he chooses; a right to make his own decisions without my interfering.

Meanwhile, I got into crafts. And we all know we need "stuff" to produce crafts. It didn't hurt that my mother was also a crafter whose favorite place to shop was the local hobby store. From there she'd buy large bags of merchandise they'd packaged together and sell at a good price to help move in newer merchandise. She might not know exactly what came in those bags but she was sure at least some of it would be useful "down the road".

And heaven forefend that one should need something while in the middle of a craft project always in the middle of the night after the stores had closed! That more than justified buying and storing a little bit of everything in the store to have on hand just in case that would be the one thing necessary to complete the craft! And so began my "collections". 

Both my husband and I, while not raised during the Great Depression, were children of parents who were. One didn't throw out anything that could possibly have some kind of life or useful purpose left in it, "just in case" one fell on hard times and couldn't afford anything better.


Add into this mix children, pets (I've never known a cat to clean out its own litter pan and the invention of the automatic litter pans is a euphemism at best!), time demands consistently required to perform activities outside the house and it's a wonder anyone can maintain a clean surface for any real length of time!


I'll continue to explore this more tomorrow (the chickens need to be let out and I'm anxious to check on the new baby recently hatched). Now that I'm feeling better and getting a bit more sleep at night, I should be able to devote more unclouded brain cells to this subject!


Peace and love,


Carol

HOW DO YOU KEEP A HOUSE CLEAN?

This topic was suggested (inadvertently) by my oldest son the other day. It was the question he asked before he went back home. I've thought about it a lot since Monday when I saw him last.


There have been two times in my life when I've been able to keep a clean and organized house. Both times it took a lot of effort on my part and once, I realize now, was because I was living by myself.


I've always admired people who live in clean and organized (as in decluttered) homes. And I want to slap them when I come into their place and they say, "please excuse the mess" when, looking around, I'd give my eye teeth to have the kind of "mess" they're talking about! What mess, I think? I wish I had this kind of mess at my house!


I've yet to fully understand how other people do it--keep their houses like the ones you see in Better Homes and Gardens. I have done it in the past but the circumstances, I've found, have to be just right.


The first time I was able to keep a tidy home I had one young child and was a stay-at-home Mom.  I decided to set up a rigid schedule. Although I can't remember exactly what that schedule was (after all it was 40 yrs. ago!) I think it went something like: Mondays--overall clean-up from the week end; Tuesday concentrate on dusting; Wednesday-light housekeeping, putting things away; Thursday - clean the bathrooms --we had 1-1/2; Friday - mop the floors and vacuum again in preparation for the week end. At the time, we had a roughly 1100 sq. ft. house.


I adhered to that schedule so rigidly that if a friend wanted to do something--go for a walk or out shopping during any one of those times I was supposed to be cleaning I'd turn her down because I knew if I deviated from that schedule even just slightly I might never go back to it. Like an addict desperately trying to stay clean, I knew the state of the house depended on my adhering strictly to that schedule.


Even after our second son was born and we moved into a much larger (as in twice as large) house, I was pretty much able to maintain that schedule. After all, I reasoned, my husband worked to support us every day and keeping the house in order was my job.


Then I went back to work and I tried to turn into "superMom"! I went back to work not because we needed the money to pay the bills but because I wanted to.  This was my choice; my luxury; my freedom from the mundane. The responsibilities to the house and my family never changed. I just had to squeeze in all my household duties into smaller time slots to allow for the hours I got to work outside the home. Working outside the home was a privilege I was allowed and could only be done if my household duties were not effected by it.


I remember getting up even earlier in the morning to bake fresh cookies for everyone's lunches and still get everyone and myself off to work in time! It was a frenetic pace but I was able to maintain it for quite some time partially because I was working as a temp and would have extra days off between assignments.


It never occurred to me to ask for much help. I just had two jobs now instead of one--both of them "part-time" jobs. And my two sons and husband fully accepted this as their due. It never occurred to my husband to offer to help. Dinner was still ready for him when he came home. Breakfast was served and lunches made before he left. His laundry automatically appeared clean and folded in his dresser drawers and hung up in his closet.  His part was to go to work and produce a paycheck, keep the lawn mowed (or snow cleared although I helped with that as well), and be the general handyman around the house. Things stayed like that for a number of years.


And then came the day when I was tired and feeling overwhelmed and things began to slide. Even as the boys got older, little was said about their responsibilities in maintaining a clean and presentable house. It was always my job--after all, I was the Mom. Even when my job became full time and I literally put more time into working outside the home than my husband did (he was a teacher), the responsibilities were rarely shared.


More on this tomorrow--or the next time I contribute! My chickens need feeding and I need to get on with the rest of my day!


Peace and Love,


Carol

LABOR DAY AND OTHER PONDERINGS

Today is Labor Day and for a good many U.S. citizens it means a day off. But when you're retired and have animals, days "off" is kind of a misnomer! The chickens, dogs, cats, goats and ponies--and, oh yes!--the donkey, don't know about days off for humans--for that matter neither do our human stomachs. All these stomachs still need to be fed! And every living thing just mentioned depends on human action to make it happen!


Even if I don't cook today (but I will!) some effort will have to be made on someone's part to put nourishment into my body! So what's a day off mean, anyway?


To me, it means an opportunity to do something out of my ordinary schedule. Maybe I'll "play" today instead of "work". But how do we differentiate play from work? One person's work might be another person's play! 


I'm retired so I have more choices than I did when I worked. When I worked in an office I was expected to show up at a specific time and my life was ruled by schedules. Days off meant I didn't have to report to the office but it still meant I was probably going to do something with my time--maybe the biggest difference is whether or not I'm productive.


There's no question that being retired means a person no longer has to be productive. Some times that's a good thing! There's something to be said for relaxing and clearing one's mind. And that, in itself, can lead to being ultimately more productive. I've found this to be true, especially lately.


Lately, my husband and I have had the opportunity to shake up our schedules. We've done some traveling and relaxing and I believe it has had a positive influence on how I face my life. I find I have renewed energy and optimism to continue on.  I'm able to set some positive goals and maybe even lay down a foundation and a path by which to achieve them. So perhaps as much as anything, vacations and changes of venue allow us to give pause to reflect.


My husband and I just celebrated 45 yrs. of marriage--an endurance accomplishment if nothing else! A lot has happened in our lives and in our world in the past 45 yrs. and the world doesn't stop spinning just because we've reached this point. 


I look forward to celebrating 50 yrs. in the future and that gives me a goal to work towards during the next five years! Speaking of which, I'd better get going. Goals aren't accomplished overnight and even though it's Labor Day--I've still got to feed those chickens!


Love and peace!


Carol

CHANGING A VENUE AND CHANGING A MIND

The kids are back in school. In my area, that means an additional 50,000 students are back in town to attend the university here. That means a big change in traffic.

And today is an especially big day because it's the first game of the season. So that means hotels will raise their prices and the restaurants will be crowded. Except for that very special time during the game when the town goes peaceful and us "locals" can get out and about--unless we're interested in the game.

Personally, I hate crowds and since the stadium will hold 80,000 people--I'll avoid that area at all costs. It will be a hectic morning for me as we're taking care of a neighbors animals and they will need to be fed before I can fix our own breakfast which today we'll share with our son and grandson. Lemon chocolate chip muffins are on the menu--I like to fix special things when Benjamin comes over. Found out a while back that waffles and pancakes don't impress him nearly as much as homemade muffins and coffee cakes. Who knew?!

And then I want to go to a meeting. And then I want to go to the Tractor Supply store--not a favorite with college kids on game day so it should be fairly "safe"! One of our goats has gotten a little thin and I've been told a nutritional supplement they carry might help her out. Since I've been giving it to her I do think she's picked up a bit of weight.

And then back home. Not sure what I'll do with the rest of the day but since Sabu took over my meditation chair this morning forcing me to choose another spot, it would appear the day may well be filled with changes. Right now, I'm beginning to think maybe I'll tear out the cabinets in my bathroom. I've been threatening to do this for a while--maybe today's the day?

Changing my meditation venue forced me to focus my attention on something else. My eyes rested on the pictures of my beautiful granddaughters and to the right of them, a picture of my handsome grandson. These three wonderful human beings who were not even in my life 15 years ago when I was diagnosed with cancer.

Cancer at age 51 at a time when I'd seriously thought of ending my life. Then my Higher Power stepped in and gave me the opportunity to seriously think about that! Talk about turning things over! That definitely did the trick! Thinking about taking ones own life is one thing; letting something else take it is quite another!

Honestly, at that point, I felt empty but with all the serious thinking I knew I had to do, all I could think of was "ok--what do I do next?".

I never felt I was fighting the cancer--just felt like I was going with the flow of treatment. I got to experience being bald! Losing my hair was quite the trip! Maybe I looked at it differently than some people because I knew it would came back but it was kind of fun--and cold during the coming winter in NW Chicagoland!

Eventually the chemo was over and my hair grew back but I'd found a wonderful peacefulness through it all and realized I might have something to live for after all even though neither of my sons were married at the time and the thought of grandchildren was still very far off.

So, this morning, I have to thank Sabu for taking my chair and allowing me to change and see a different picture this morning. And remember how grateful I am that I've been allowed to live another 15 years and who knows how much longer? But meanwhile, I've experienced the grandchildren I never would have seen had I ended my life 15 yrs. ago.

Peace and love,

Carol

ON BEING PRESIDENTIAL

Yesterday was the bowling debut of our leagues' 2009-2010 season. I am both president of the league and captain of my team--mainly because no one else wants to do it.

I really don't know that much about bowling. I used to know how to keep score but these days electronic screens and computers take that job off my hands although I can still follow along--helps keep my mind active.

We were setting averages and handicaps yesterday. Means nothing to me. As captain, the main job is entering the scores and separating the copies to give to the secretary. Since this was our first day, there were no handicaps and I thought the secretary would figure it out--which she did. But many others more capable than me were figuring out their own handicaps as a courtesy to our secretary and to lessen her burden. I had no such thoughts although if I'd given some thought and done my research I could have done that too. Laziness and inattention on my part but you'd think as president of the league that would have been the least I could do.

The other night, my husband and I watched the Frost/Nixon Interview--not sure if that's the name of the movie but you get the idea. Interesting that such an event was first made into a play and then adapted to a movie and got quite a bit of acclaim.

President Nixon was of my time. The interviews took place in 1974 when our youngest child was nearly one yr. old and our oldest just turned five. I vaguely remember them. I remember realizing that this was history--a president resigning--and trying to figure out just what his problem was or, more accurately, what his persecutors' problem was. I thought the movie would clarify that for me. It didn't. In the end I feel the same way now as I did then. That Nixon was persecuted beyond justification for his wrongdoing and that he did nothing more or less than what others did before and after him.

The actual interview was justifiably notable because it brought about the confession and admission of guilt that the PEOPLE were looking for and that they never got before the man left office. David Frost, at the time, was a playboy talk show host from Britain/Australia who was known more for his fluff than for in-depth interviews.

That he could get Nixon to agree to such an interview was pretty surprising. That he had no idea what he was up against became abundantly clear during the first three interviews. Nixon was a pro and he knew how to protect and present himself to the media and had no intention of losing any more face to his public. He'd had a lot of experience in losing face in the media and he'd learned some valuable lessons.

But he also appreciated a competent adversary; a good fight. And had told Frost on several occasions to not pull any punches. Frost's inexperience at such a thing became evident in the first three interviews but by the fourth one, he'd finally learned his lesson and got the confession from the man known as "tricky Dickie" that no one else had been able to extract. Although Frost was on the verge of losing everything financially and professionally that he'd worked hard to attain, the final interview not only assured that he recovered all that but all that and more. I noted that in the additional features included on the cd, he is now known as "Sir" David Frost.

I still don't understand why so many people hate Richard Nixon. Admittedly he did wrong even making the preposterous statement to the effect that if the President does something, even if it's against the law, then because it's the president doing it, it is no longer against the law!

Still, in my view he did nothing worse than anyone else in his office had ever done (or continues to do)--he just got caught. Note: I'm not saying he shouldn't have been punished. What I think is worth noting is that his transgressions dragged this country down in the media so much (to the detriment of the world's opinion of us) that everyone forgot all the good he did. That he was the president who got us out of Vietnam and ultimately opened relations with China.

In my opinion, many of our other leaders have done far worse and accomplished far less. I really think Nixon acted, for the most part, in the best interests of his country within his capabilities. Of course, this writing over-simplifies the matter. But, this is my blog and this is my opinion.

Like the president of our country who relies on others to take care of the details of his job, I too, rely on my secretary/treasurer to do hers and I bless her for it. But the fact is, if Janetta abscounds with the treasury, as my name is on those checks, I'd be considered as guilty as she would be. It comes with the territory.

Peace and love,

Carol

BOWLING

Today is our first day back to league bowling after having the summer off. Most of us have bowled informally as friends during the summer when it's easy to take off for vacations. Of course, at our age, most of us are retired so we can take off at any time during the regular bowling season. But the love of the game and draw of companionship keeps most of us showing up routinely on Thursdays at 9 AM.

One of our members won't be with us this morning because she has a doctor's appointment. Her family is going with her. Mary is 82 and we're all worried about her. She gets a far off distant look in her eyes that seems to be there more and more often. During the summer, she forgot that we bowled on Wednesdays instead of Thursdays for the first half of the season.

We go out to eat after we bowl (actually the primary reason we get together in the first place is to have someone to go out to eat with!). We've all noticed that no matter how often we tell Mary where we're going, she often repeatedly asks us and how to get there. Some times even after being repeatedly told, she still doesn't show up. Some of us are beginning to fear for her safety and I suspect that's why she has a doctor's appt. this morning.

All the ladies I bowl with on my team are widows; some more than once. Everyone but me is either 80 yrs. old or close to it. Two of the ladies were new last year and are thrilled to have some place to go on Thursdays. It gives them a chance to get out of the house and bond with other women. I was delighted when Rosalie and Jimmie joined our team. I knew they wouldn't be good bowlers in terms of high averages but that isn't what I was looking for in new teammates. In fact, coming in last place at the end of the season has become such a habit, I rather like it down there in the basement! It's cool and comfortable!

But I'm mostly glad that Jimmie and Rosalie joined us because they're so much fun! They make me laugh! Jimmie at 80 will pass out "birth control" pills (in truth an aspirin or vitamin!) in the hopes taking them will improve our scores! Although what that has to do with it is anyone's guess; it's still funny--as in doing anything in desperation to help the team.

Rosalie reminds me of a cheerful bird! Although she's had a number of tragedies in her life, she remains upbeat and usually has a smile on her face! She's such a pleasure to be around and a lesson to us all that cheerfulness certainly attracts more positive feelings than being dour. Sort of like the fly and honey bit.

I miss Frances. She used to bowl on our team but when it was time to sign up last year she bowed out for physical reasons. Rather than disappoint our team and not show up, she didn't feel comfortable about how she would perform until the last minute. Then, when she realized that she could bowl, her spot on our team had been taken and she signed up with the new team that had just formed--and promptly shared in their first place victory!

But Frances is my friend; my buddy; my comforter. I've attended several bowling tournaments with her and we usually room together. Several times she's sensed when I've been down and has spread her care, concern and religious strength all over my aching soul. Words cannot begin to express the gratefulness and love in my heart for this very special lady.

They made me president of the league a few years back because nobody else wanted to do it. I accepted knowing full well it's a figurehead job and that it means I do virtually nothing. Thankfully, the bulk of the responsibility falls to the league secretary/treasurer, Janetta, another good and faithful friend.

I look forward to bowling with all of these ladies this coming year as I consider each and everyone of our 44 members to be my good friends. It doesn't matter to me if I bowl well or not; if we rise about last place or not. It just matters that we all can get together and laugh a bit and share a meal in the space of a few hours every week.

The bottom line is that I'm not really a bowler; I'm just in it for the hugs!

Peace and love,

Carol

MATERIALSM - PART II

Bonsai trees, just looking at them, invoke peace in me! This is just one of the many we viewed on a recent trip.

Materialism--thinking about it and what I would write all day yesterday.

Does materialism go back to Adam and Eve? Was that what started the whole thing? Is that why Eve reached for the "forbidden fruit"? Something nearly beyond her grasp with the seductive name "Forbidden"! How much more do we want something when we're told we can't have it! How much more tempting is it when we're told we can see but not touch!

I'm sure at first, with no one to compare herself to, Eve didn't have much to be material about. Was one leaf pretty much the same when it came to covering the body? Or were the ones from certain trees deemed better than others because they were more rare or harder to reach?

And then there came animal skins! What an upgrade! And how much more difficult to acquire?

At first, of course, Eve didn't have a whole lot of competition what with being the only woman on the planet for awhile. But if we're to believe what it says in the Bible, she lived a pretty long time--long enough to produce little girls who would eventually grow up to be big girls and then women. And these women would go on to produce more women, etc., etc., etc.

If, in fact, they all lived hundreds of years, there would certainly come a time when competition would have entered into the picture! And isn't competition part of comparing? Comparing oneself to others? Who was better looking or more attractive to the opposite sex? And what would make one more attractive? Better cover-ups (can you call leafy creations clothes?!)? Of course in Eden, they may have been able to forego a lot of clothing as explorers even in modern day have discovered entire tribes foregoing all but the most basic of body coverings. Still--a little dangle here, a little "glitter" there--who knows?

And what about status in the community? How did one hut stack up to the one next door? And if a person became particularly adapted to building huts that were a little better than the others, was that person now sought out as a builder with a "name"--perhaps one could barter with that person to build one's own hut in trade for food. "You build my hut and I'll see to it you won't have to hunt for your food for a year!" Was that the deal?

What is it about human nature that makes us want "stuff". And when did brand recognition come into play?

I know my kids had it even when I tried to raise them not to. In my world, growing up relatively poor, I was happy to get whatever was either given to me or what I could afford--and that was usually not much! A $15 pair of jeans I could afford. $100 for a pair of jeans was out of the question when $100 could buy me a whole wardrobe! Sure, maybe the quality wasn't that great, but that didn't matter to me. If it lasted a year--I could have saved up another $100 to buy again the following year something new and different and maybe in a different color. To tell me $100 would buy me a single piece of clothing that would last me 5 yrs. didn't compute with me because I like change and don't want to wear anything for that long (although, admittedly, among my favorites are things that I have actually worn that long!).

Anyway, I suppose materialism helps the economy--at least on the grand scale of things if not on an individual basis. Certainly I know that some brands are better than others. I love Sketchers shoes and couldn't wait to get to the outlet store when I discovered one recently! And then I was disappointed in the pair I bought--not because of the workmanship but more because I'd inaccurately judged the style as being one I could wear comfortably. Still--it won't stop me from buying that brand again--they're good shoes not outlandishly priced--I just have to watch the cut of the shoe I buy.

Not sure how much more I'll pursue this but have to stop now and feed my chicks. Three eggs yesterday as opposed to none or one the last few days. The weather down here is cooling off--low 90s as compared to low 100s! And this morning--at 71!--it's almost cool outside! Cooler than it is inside--but not cool enough to warrant turning off the a/c! I know what happens during the day--it gets hotter!

Bless all who read this blog! Please comment if you like it! I like the writing but I'm in it for the hugs!

Peace and love!

Carol

MATERIALISM

At left is the Bonsai tree my husband bought in honor of our 45th wedding anniversary this past week end. Think it's kind of appropriate in many ways. Maybe it will become an heirloom to pass on?

Anyway, yesterday as I was "conversing" via e-mail with my youngest son, the topic of materialism came up. He fears his daughters will grow up to be very materialistic. And I wonder..just where does this all start? Is it something we're born with or something we acquire. The subject interests me because I just finished a book where the main characters were extremely materialistic----BUT not in the very end. In literally, the final pages of the book, it all came down to unselfish love--although having material things did enhance it! The point was that what was truly enduring were the feelings people ultimately had for one another and I wonder if this is true and if so, where and when does materialism start?

Growing up in the Lutheran church, I got a daily dose of Christ's altruistic lifestyle. The message was clear: materialism was bad; altruism was good. Being unselfish and kind--not necessarily loving--never really got that "loving" message--was a good thing. The God I learned of in Lutheran school was not necessarily a loving God or at the very least he was only loving if I was a "good" girl. And part of being good meant being altruistic. It meant putting others before myself. It meant sacrificing for the good of others whether they appreciated it or not. It meant always putting myself last.

These feelings were fostered in my home as well. Being the oldest it was expected that I'd take on certain responsibilities especially as regarding my younger siblings. I was to be their second mom. Their needs would always come before mine.

Materialistically, we didn't have that much--especially by today's standards. Hand-me-downs were the rule of the day and we were grateful for them. Of course, if there was a hand-me-down from my cousins for me, that would mean, ultimately, that it would continue to be passed down eventually to my sister--even though she was 10 yrs. older. We never threw anything away or looked down on something because it wasn't the proper label. We were grateful to have another piece of clothing for our backs or another piece of furniture for our house. We didn't throw things away because one never knew when the next depression would hit or some other disaster would strike and then we'd be even more grateful that we had what we had.

I'd like to explore this topic more in future posts but right now I've run out of my allotted time for my blog and I need to go feed my chickens! But I'll be back tomorrow and think more about this during the day.

Peace and Love,

Carol