Remember when we were young and how you thought of Christmas? Just thinking about it in September when school would start, imagining all of the things to come in the fall. We had Halloween to keep us occupied, distracted by the costumes and mountains of candy. Followed shortly by Thanksgiving and all of that turkey. But when Thanksgiving ended, and if you were lucky the first snowfall came, our minds turned to Christmas. For me, it was going to my Grandma's house in the Tri-Cities. There were always at least 15 people there around the table - the adults making us kids wait until AFTER dinner to open presents. We usually had our tradition on Christmas Eve - with an early dinner in the mid afternoon. My grandma would plan every detail with balanced perfection ensuring each dish was ready at the exact moment the clock struck 3. If dinner was at 3, it was AT 3. Not 2:45 not 3:15. 3. We would all sit around taking turns tearing the shiny wrapping off our gifts - the coolest part being that it went from youngest to oldest and I was the youngest one of the bunch. It would take at least 3 hours to get through all of the presents and was followed up by each adult opening a box of chocolate covered cherries - my grandmothers tradition. She would make popcorn balls and homemade fudge; at least 3 different types of desserts. If we felt like it, we would stay in and play with our newly found treasures and the adults would visit and have coffee and hot toddy's. Sometimes, we went to the movies where my grandma would bring some of the popcorn balls and fudge and hand them out to the employees who had to unfortunately work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Christmas Day.
Do you recall the feeling? The one where you lay there all night, trying so hard to sleep so that morning will finally come?? You finally find the will to close your eyes and drift off to strange dreams... it only seems to last a moment and then you wake up!! Sit up in bed! It's 6am!! You can't throw back the covers fast enough. You are running down the stairs (down the hall, up the stairs) - you skid around the corner and there it is. The angels sing their hallelujah chorus and you see it then. The tree, the presents, the toys. Your eyes flit to the half eaten plate of cookies you left for Santa the night before. Oh my goodness..He was here. You can hardly contain yourself. I know I couldn't. I couldn't WAIT to see what was in my stocking. I couldn't wait to tear the paper off the presents and discover what was waiting inside.
I was thinking about all of this yesterday. I have to admit, I was feeling really forlorn. I so miss going to my grandmas, seeing all the presents, going to the movies, running down the hall Christmas morning... more than all that, I just miss the feeling. Anxious, excited and this oh so deep feeling of joy... it was overwhelming and comforting at the same time. I thought about how I would spend every holiday with my cousin Kari - and we would sit together every Christmas - and how it's been more than 2 years since I've actually seen her. (We talk all the time of course, but it's not the same) I realized that now it's my job. It's my responsibility to create this same feeling for my kids. That my mom's house is now the grandmas house and the family members are my sister in laws and brother in laws.. and WE were the ones sitting around drinking coffee and hot toddy's (sorta..haha) while the kids played with their new treasures. It's kind of hard to be a grown up isn't it? I still wish in some small way that Christmas was the same as it was. I know now that it can't be the same... but it can still be good and it can be the best for my kids.
That's worth it to me. I want them to grow up and feel the same nostalgia that I do when I reminisce on Christmas Past. And I think that Kari and I should still sit together every Christmas and holiday that we can... there is no reason that we can't, right!? We just have to be the ones to start and make the traditions. Both of my grandmas were amazing women. The grandma that Kari and I share surely instilled some of her traditions in both of us. Now it's up to us to make it happen. Heck, I'm actually attempting to cook, so I know she's proud of me for that!!! (and Grandma, I didn't even make anyone sick!!!)
I know now that Christmas is about so much more than gifts... it's about family. It's about Jesus' birth. It's about traditions and giving. It's so many things all wrapped into one special, joyous, elation. And whatever your traditions may be, we can all agree on the "feeling" of Christmas I'm sure.
Wishing everyone out there a very Merry Christmas. I hope you will find that little bit of Christmas feeling under the tree this year.
Much love~
T♥
This is my personal journal of thoughts, intuitions and discernment. A committee of sorts that is the very core of me. This is a VIP tour inside my brain. Enter at your own risk. My name is Tera. I'm in my 30's, a mom of two, I have a life and things I'm accountable for... but I'm still just a girl in spirit. I might be just like you...Welcome to T and the Committee.
12.25.2010
12.14.2010
Take your time...
How many of us put off things until "tomorrow"... Me, I am the ultimate procrastinator on one hand...and other times, I have to get it done NOW. This happens spontaneously, and those around me, including myself are never quite prepared for the personality that surfaces! I've often wondered if I have two or more different personalities. I've learned in the last couple of years that it really isn't my personality, it's my ability to pick up other people's characteristics just by being near them. This happens with moods also. If I'm not taking special care to pay attention, I will wind up in a mood that was not mine to begin with. I can watch a movie where people are speaking in southern accents and halfway through you would be convinced I was born in Louisiana as I start to speak in my best southern drawl. Why? Because it's fun and moreover, because I absorb everything. This can be so confusing. And it is sure to cause my loved ones to stop and wonder exactly where T went and if she's coming back any time soon.
For example - we have been remodeling our house. New carpet, windows, etc. Oh! How exciting you say!!! No. This means that things will be chaotic and messy (for those of you contemplating the idea). I was going along fine, so excited about my new carpet and windows - enjoying the thought of a new look to come home to and relax in. I don't know what happened. Perhaps, it was the moment I actually looked around and realized that my once clean house was a MESS. M-E-S-S. That is all I could see. My eyes darted around like a crazed animal at all of the piles of this and that on every piece of flat-topped furniture. I swear they looked back at me like "it's not our fault, YOU put us here!!" I don't know what came over me, but needless to say I kind of freaked out. It all seemed so overwhelming and impossible. I thought of all the things I have to do in a day and there was surely no time left to return these odds and ends to their rightful residencies.
Another prime example of my madness, would be when someone else loads the dishwasher. You would think (as stated above) as busy as I am (yes but not really) and how there is not enough time in the day (there is but I can't find it) to get everything accomplished that I would be grateful someone else chipped in to help. For some reason, I had to look inside the dishwasher. You see, there were still dishes in the sink, and the brave soul who did load it, informed me that there was no room left in the dishwasher and those dishes would not fit. As soon as peered inside I turned into an officer of the dishwasher loading police and analyzed the lack of proper use of space. It was clear that no math had been done to calculate how to align the glasses on the top rack and equate the area on the bottom rack to fit each pot, pan and plate efficiently. You are asking yourself, what happened next? Well of course I reloaded it! I mean, who could live with themselves not utilizing the dishwasher at its top performance?
And I wonder why I have no time left in my day... I am certain the reason I am unable to find this extra time is because I have used it to appease my alter ego's inability to relax and let things be.
How often do we put off spending time with a friend or placing a phone call to someone, because we simply cannot afford the time? Or you are watching a TV show and your kids come in to talk and you shhh them because you are tired and can't muster the energy to listen. Your family member asks you to lunch and you don't go, because you; haven't washed your hair, have too much laundry, house is a mess, have to make dinner... etc.
We must take our time. We never know when the last opportunity to do something presents itself. Those who have lost a child will tell you to soak in every minute of it; they would give anything to be able to rewind. Those who have lost siblings or parents will tell you to jump up and go to that lunch date - don't miss the chance to be with someone you love.
Do you think life lasts forever? Are you putting off making that phone call to tell someone you love them, because, ah well, you will do it tomorrow? Don't wait. Do it now. Make it count. Make an impression. Don't freak out about a mess that is easily cleaned up. Don't reload the dishwasher to optimize space - use the time you would have spent reloading it to do something worthwhile.
I hereby swear to take my own advice. I will stumble in my quest. But I promise to try. Do you?
Savor your life. Don't like the taste? Season it with something else. Add a few fresh ingredients and don't forget to breathe. Take your time. Enjoy.
♥T
For example - we have been remodeling our house. New carpet, windows, etc. Oh! How exciting you say!!! No. This means that things will be chaotic and messy (for those of you contemplating the idea). I was going along fine, so excited about my new carpet and windows - enjoying the thought of a new look to come home to and relax in. I don't know what happened. Perhaps, it was the moment I actually looked around and realized that my once clean house was a MESS. M-E-S-S. That is all I could see. My eyes darted around like a crazed animal at all of the piles of this and that on every piece of flat-topped furniture. I swear they looked back at me like "it's not our fault, YOU put us here!!" I don't know what came over me, but needless to say I kind of freaked out. It all seemed so overwhelming and impossible. I thought of all the things I have to do in a day and there was surely no time left to return these odds and ends to their rightful residencies.
Another prime example of my madness, would be when someone else loads the dishwasher. You would think (as stated above) as busy as I am (yes but not really) and how there is not enough time in the day (there is but I can't find it) to get everything accomplished that I would be grateful someone else chipped in to help. For some reason, I had to look inside the dishwasher. You see, there were still dishes in the sink, and the brave soul who did load it, informed me that there was no room left in the dishwasher and those dishes would not fit. As soon as peered inside I turned into an officer of the dishwasher loading police and analyzed the lack of proper use of space. It was clear that no math had been done to calculate how to align the glasses on the top rack and equate the area on the bottom rack to fit each pot, pan and plate efficiently. You are asking yourself, what happened next? Well of course I reloaded it! I mean, who could live with themselves not utilizing the dishwasher at its top performance?
And I wonder why I have no time left in my day... I am certain the reason I am unable to find this extra time is because I have used it to appease my alter ego's inability to relax and let things be.
How often do we put off spending time with a friend or placing a phone call to someone, because we simply cannot afford the time? Or you are watching a TV show and your kids come in to talk and you shhh them because you are tired and can't muster the energy to listen. Your family member asks you to lunch and you don't go, because you; haven't washed your hair, have too much laundry, house is a mess, have to make dinner... etc.
We must take our time. We never know when the last opportunity to do something presents itself. Those who have lost a child will tell you to soak in every minute of it; they would give anything to be able to rewind. Those who have lost siblings or parents will tell you to jump up and go to that lunch date - don't miss the chance to be with someone you love.
Do you think life lasts forever? Are you putting off making that phone call to tell someone you love them, because, ah well, you will do it tomorrow? Don't wait. Do it now. Make it count. Make an impression. Don't freak out about a mess that is easily cleaned up. Don't reload the dishwasher to optimize space - use the time you would have spent reloading it to do something worthwhile.
I hereby swear to take my own advice. I will stumble in my quest. But I promise to try. Do you?
Savor your life. Don't like the taste? Season it with something else. Add a few fresh ingredients and don't forget to breathe. Take your time. Enjoy.
♥T
12.01.2010
Black Friday, indeed
Seriously, who invented Black Friday? I know there are some of you out there that marvel at the idea of waking up at the crack of dawn and venturing out to the various retail outlets to find the best deal and the perfect gift. Sounds fun to some people; and to each his own...I'm fine with the novelty and the opportunity to spend time with your good friends or family, maybe getting a bite to eat together on the way home.. sounds like the holidays to me and a really fun tradition for many.
Let's flash forward to the outrageous news reels all over television showing people trampling each other to get through the door. The man screaming for help as each person passed him by, their eyes only on the coveted door buster prize. Or how about the footage of some customers at a well known store seething at the foot of a pile of 9 dollar crock pots like a bunch of hungry wolves? The workers clinging to each other, fearing this may be their last day alive. Maybe the woman who has a meltdown at the checkout line because she's so selfishly tried to cut in front of everyone else and is told she needs to go to the back of the line to wait, and she freaks out so badly, I was sure it was an episode of COPS.
But it wasn't COPS. This was the spirit of the holiday season. (As seen on TV) Makes my stomach churn at the thought of people so desperate, so lifeless. Makes my skin crawl the way the media portrays the mayhem and we all watch eyes glued to the screens in our living rooms, unable to look away. Some spirit.
I dread this dark day every year. Ironic in itself that it's the day after we all are supposed to give thanks (I'm so thankful, now move aside jerk, I want that freakin' TV and the 9$ crock pot!!) That is hilarious. Sad. I think it's tragic that this is what occurs because of a few material items on sale. Sure, I love a good bargain. But I'm not going to step on the face of my neighbor for it!
Have all of these people forgotten what this time of year is really about? Have they forgotten that the reason we give presents to each other, is because we are in symbolic celebration of Jesus' birth? Christmas is about love and celebration. Family and friends. Giving, not receiving. Just like He gives to us everyday. Has anyone taken a moment to look around at all of the blessings we have received? The warm beds we sleep in. The food on our table. Our children. Our family. The glorious way the sun rises in the East in the morning and the breathtaking sight it leaves on us in the West every night?
Like I said before, it's wonderful to spend this day the way it was really intended. Shopping the deals, trying to find something really special for those we love, checking out the holiday decorations, those oh so amazing lights and reeling in the holidays.
But to those who have forgotten what Christmas is all about... Take a moment and do something kind for someone else. Count all the beautiful blessings He has given you. And most all all remember. Remember what this time of year is all about. I can guarantee you that He- for whom this Season is all about- has not, even for a second, forgotten you.
Happy Birthday, Jesus
May He continue to bless each and every one of you
Much love~
T♥
Let's flash forward to the outrageous news reels all over television showing people trampling each other to get through the door. The man screaming for help as each person passed him by, their eyes only on the coveted door buster prize. Or how about the footage of some customers at a well known store seething at the foot of a pile of 9 dollar crock pots like a bunch of hungry wolves? The workers clinging to each other, fearing this may be their last day alive. Maybe the woman who has a meltdown at the checkout line because she's so selfishly tried to cut in front of everyone else and is told she needs to go to the back of the line to wait, and she freaks out so badly, I was sure it was an episode of COPS.
But it wasn't COPS. This was the spirit of the holiday season. (As seen on TV) Makes my stomach churn at the thought of people so desperate, so lifeless. Makes my skin crawl the way the media portrays the mayhem and we all watch eyes glued to the screens in our living rooms, unable to look away. Some spirit.
I dread this dark day every year. Ironic in itself that it's the day after we all are supposed to give thanks (I'm so thankful, now move aside jerk, I want that freakin' TV and the 9$ crock pot!!) That is hilarious. Sad. I think it's tragic that this is what occurs because of a few material items on sale. Sure, I love a good bargain. But I'm not going to step on the face of my neighbor for it!
Have all of these people forgotten what this time of year is really about? Have they forgotten that the reason we give presents to each other, is because we are in symbolic celebration of Jesus' birth? Christmas is about love and celebration. Family and friends. Giving, not receiving. Just like He gives to us everyday. Has anyone taken a moment to look around at all of the blessings we have received? The warm beds we sleep in. The food on our table. Our children. Our family. The glorious way the sun rises in the East in the morning and the breathtaking sight it leaves on us in the West every night?
Like I said before, it's wonderful to spend this day the way it was really intended. Shopping the deals, trying to find something really special for those we love, checking out the holiday decorations, those oh so amazing lights and reeling in the holidays.
But to those who have forgotten what Christmas is all about... Take a moment and do something kind for someone else. Count all the beautiful blessings He has given you. And most all all remember. Remember what this time of year is all about. I can guarantee you that He- for whom this Season is all about- has not, even for a second, forgotten you.
Happy Birthday, Jesus
May He continue to bless each and every one of you
Much love~
T♥
11.22.2010
The little team that could....
It was July when the team started... made up of 11-14 year old girls, 6th, 7th and 8th graders. The weather was warm with little rain and the practices started during the summer- the girls learning the basics of the game, running their legs off, learning the different positions and plays that make up the game of soccer.
The younger girls learned to quickly follow their elders around the field, and a sort of team leadership was formed. It was a month or two before any games would be played, and the girls easily fell into the routine a few days a week, practicing on a mediocre field in a little town by the sea. It was then that team Pacifica was born.
The days grew longer and summer ended. School started and practices became 3 days a week, with the first game on a Saturday, and all other games to be played every Saturday through September-October. These girls somehow found a balance between school work and other coinciding sports and their time spent on the grass, running drills and passing, practicing to make perfect. While other teams might have called it quits due to the regular rain of the now fall season, not this team. They didn't know the meaning of "rained out". Practices took place as usual and there were many a mud-soaked girl by the time 6:30pm rolled around.
The first couple of games were blessed with the appearance of sunshine as if it were a reward for their dedication. But the rains came again, and one Saturday game in particular would resonate in the minds of those girls for the rest of the season. It was pouring. So much that kicking the ball would only lend it a few feet. The water beads pelted their faces, and immersed the ground into a lake making the idea of running seem treacherous. There were many injuries that day, one player being hurt enough that she wouldn't play again that season, though she still stood on the sidelines to support her team. They still managed to win that game despite the awful conditions. It would take more than rain to stop these girls. This team was made up of more than players, it was made up of hearts.
They finished the regular season undefeated, earning themselves a place in the Recreational Cup in Vancouver. The city. This was the big time. This is what they had worked for. Practices became daily and the weather turned cold. But they kept their eyes on the prize. The Cup.
The games took place outdoors on the coldest weekend of the season (November 20 & 21) and probably the muddiest field in the area. These girls covered head to toe in dirt by the time the first set of games were completed. These weren't just girls anymore. I think they became warriors.
The next day was the semi-final to determine who would play later for first and second place. The weather became cruel, submerging the team in less than 40 degree weather, followed by.... snow. Yes, snow. As they fought for their place in the final game, they each gave a piece of themselves in sacrifice. All of them in some kind of physical pain, be it from injuries on the field or due to the fact their hands and feet were so cold they became excruciatingly sore. Just thinking about the courage of these young girls as they literally weathered the storm for their place is inspiring.
They won and moved on to the final game...frozen and tired, but loving it and each other enough to try again. While they didn't take home the first place title, these girls were first place champions, playing through the snow once more to finish in second place, and amazing all of us who have watched them from the very first practice.
There are those who are great athletes. You might be the best mid-fielder or the fastest forward, maybe you are the star quarterback of the football team or the designated hitter on the baseball team. Team Pacifica was made up of all of these kinds of talents... but the best part about them was they were a team. They stuck it out together - through it all.
When it comes to what really matters take a lesson from the "little soccer team that could" and you'll realize that being the best has little to do with skill and everything to do with heart.
With much love and dedication to the coaches for their time and effort -
To Team Pacifica for your heart -
To fellow team member and my daughter Abby- I couldn't be more proud of you. You are amazing. I'm inspired by you.♥
Remember what matters, my lovelies
T♥
11.16.2010
I don't have to be happy all the time... right?
I was sitting here thinking about creating a new post. I love writing and it makes me feel better if I'm having an off day... Today is one of those days...I don't feel particularly happy or sad... just kind of blah. I thought "well, I don't have anything uplifting to write about"... and there it was. I should write about exactly that! Warning...this will make little sense.
I like to think that I see the best in people. The up side of things. The glass half full...all the time. That simply just does not happen. I'm human... flawed in all my glory...it's kind of exhausting to be upbeat all the time isn't it? I'm so intuitive that when someone is feeling down, or has something on their mind, I can sense it. I find myself accommodating that person before I even think about myself. Then I wonder why I'm in a bad mood. Turns out, it wasn't my mood to start with! Super!
Have you ever been having a superb day, and then someone crosses your path and totally shuts it down? What is wrong with people that when you ask them how they are they say something negative? Maybe they are just being honest. I mean, we did ask them....and they are just answering, right?
When we say "how are you?" do we really want to know? I think that phrase is so over used. There are times that I really mean it, and I DO want to know. Then there are the times that I'm just making conversation, and I'm looking for "great and you?"... I'd even settle for "okay..."
The word "love" is the only word I can think of that is more overused than that. Everyone loves everything. I love that color. I love your sweater. I love shoes. Then we wonder why we don't believe it when someone says "I love you". Maybe because they just said... oh I don't know...let's say they said they "love cheese" and then they say they "love you" and you wonder if you are higher quality than cheese? Maybe you are equal to cheese? Better than cheddar? Less than Swiss?
Today I will ponder exactly what kind of cheese I am. What sandwich do I belong in? Who is my bread and what kind? The lettuce? Who makes up the exact amount of mayo and mustard mixed together? And please slice it diagonal, that is the only proper way....
*Sigh*...welcome to my world...chew on that.
Much "cheese" my lovelies~
T♥
I like to think that I see the best in people. The up side of things. The glass half full...all the time. That simply just does not happen. I'm human... flawed in all my glory...it's kind of exhausting to be upbeat all the time isn't it? I'm so intuitive that when someone is feeling down, or has something on their mind, I can sense it. I find myself accommodating that person before I even think about myself. Then I wonder why I'm in a bad mood. Turns out, it wasn't my mood to start with! Super!
Have you ever been having a superb day, and then someone crosses your path and totally shuts it down? What is wrong with people that when you ask them how they are they say something negative? Maybe they are just being honest. I mean, we did ask them....and they are just answering, right?
When we say "how are you?" do we really want to know? I think that phrase is so over used. There are times that I really mean it, and I DO want to know. Then there are the times that I'm just making conversation, and I'm looking for "great and you?"... I'd even settle for "okay..."
The word "love" is the only word I can think of that is more overused than that. Everyone loves everything. I love that color. I love your sweater. I love shoes. Then we wonder why we don't believe it when someone says "I love you". Maybe because they just said... oh I don't know...let's say they said they "love cheese" and then they say they "love you" and you wonder if you are higher quality than cheese? Maybe you are equal to cheese? Better than cheddar? Less than Swiss?
Today I will ponder exactly what kind of cheese I am. What sandwich do I belong in? Who is my bread and what kind? The lettuce? Who makes up the exact amount of mayo and mustard mixed together? And please slice it diagonal, that is the only proper way....
*Sigh*...welcome to my world...chew on that.
Much "cheese" my lovelies~
T♥
11.06.2010
Check your reflection
There is a man that I know. He once had a vision to create housing for those who couldn't afford it. He took a risk and put everything he had into the project. He was certain it is was for the greater good of everyone. He lost almost everything along the way, but he kept at it and was finally successful. He had accomplished decent, affordable housing for young families as well as a series of townhouses for those who were older. It was a vision he had. One that not many people know about.
He grew up on the Snake River in the summertime, working the farm with his grandparents and attending school where he lived in the neighboring city. He had a tireless, work ethic instilled in him at a young age, a trait that would follow him wherever he went. He had a strict and equally hard-working father, a domestic goddess of a mother who provided dinner to the minute every evening and a fun-loving, bubbly sister who provided much excitement to him and his parents on many occasions. I truly think he was part of some of that excitement, but if you ask him, you will get a smirk and sideways comment to keep you guessing.
He worked throughout his life, first at financial institutions and then finally settling in to a management job for another company. As the years went by he had ideas of more and eventually started a land development company and two others on top of that.
He's known for being stubborn and maybe a little loud at times. He has the ability to command a room with his presence and the intellect to turn a small spark into a large flame. He had a guarded way about him for many years, but when his first grandchild was born something changed and the defenses weakened. He has a love for the now teenage grandson and two granddaughters that is not measurable by simple standards. It's recognized by the daughter that was estranged as a child, always feeling a bit inadequate, as an actual facet of his pride and affection for her.
When he designed and established the development projects, he then also took residence in one of them. He and his family moved from their country home (which he of course designed and helped build) and made the venture to "town". Though not the maintenance manager he quickly became the "go-to guy". He was always there to fix things that were broken, repair things that were damaged, plow the snow in the winter or whatever it was that his neighbors needed. He did all this without compensation, simply because he had the capability to help them and because it was the right thing to do for others...
My dad and I may have had a hard time as I was growing up. Now as an adult, when I take a moment to look at him as a person and not just my dad, I understand. No matter what has happened and how I may have felt then, my dad is probably the least selfish person I know. I am someone who puts others first, I always want to help them, I have a deep compassion for them. My grandma (my dad's mom) would tell me all the time "it's a curse AND a blessing dear". I know that I got some of these traits from my mom. Those of you who know her, absolutely love her..(Mrs. Landin!!!) But in really thinking about it, it's my dad also that would go out of his way, all the time to help other people that either can't themselves (in ALL WAYS) or frankly just didn't know how to start. I saw this constantly when I was a kid and still see it today.
I always wanted to have a close relationship with my dad. I was always jealous of those girls who were so close to their fathers...I'm elated to say that now as an adult, I have realized what a good man my dad is, what an amazing grandfather he is and that one of the characteristics that I'm blessed with, the blessing of helping others, came from him.
I would hope that anyone reading this blog would think about it and take it to heart. Do you think about other people at all? Are you so wrapped up in yourself and your own agenda that you can't see past yourself? When someone you love is having a hard time, is it about them or you? When someone has helped you, do you thank them? When they ask for something in return to you think about what they need or what you need?
I'm not saying forget about yourself. It's so true that we need to take time out for ourselves and take care of ourselves. So many times, we tend to put our requirements on the back burner until everyone else is sated. I tend to be altruistic. That can be painful sometimes, because I can't expect everyone to be that way. Sometimes, people are guarded for whatever reasons, and that is perfectly fine with me.
But there is a difference between being guarded and being selfish. Someone who is guarded isn't purposely inconsiderate. Just like being selfish is never pretty.
To those of you I'm talking to, who forgot about everyone else in your journey: Take a moment and check your reflection.
With warm regard and dedication to my dad -
T♥
11.02.2010
Tis the Season
What is it about this time of year? Somehow, it has the ability to create an overtone to the days and weeks that lead up to Christmas... you find yourself immersed in the beauty of everything. There's that familiar feeling in your stomach that tells you it's close. The crisp fall air in your nose, the leaves changing color as if someone came by and painted over the green they once were with gold, amber and red. When I look out the window I'm amazed at all of these creations. I often wonder what thought process went into making all of it. When God decided to create, say trees for instance, obviously for their oxygen purposes, but then the beauty that went along with it. How they tower over you, and seem to know things. Some of them turning bright with the autumn and seeming to sleep the winter away, their leaves on the ground. The powerful way that a fir tree can ascend to more than 100 feet with ease, teasing a climber to go ahead and dare his way to the top, all the while keeping watch through the cold months, the true keeper of the forest.
The air moves from crisp to frozen, turning the ground to stone. Snow comes next falling quietly over the meadows and roads. If you listen closely, you can hear it gently meet the ground, the sound slightly scolding as if to say "shhhhhhh". When it falls at night, you'll see the reflection of the street lamps on the flakes as they follow the stream of light down. The moon meets it there and the snow replies as if to say it's settling in to stay awhile.
I love going home for Christmas...if I'm lucky it will snow while I'm there. It's nostalgia. If you could bottle it, you could sell it easily. I really think this is what most people are looking for as they start their yearly routines. They are chasing their childhood or trying to create a better one for their children. Stringing lights and decorating the tree, the customary practices. Baking cookies and bread, the accustomed fragrances of pine and apple cider.
It's not about presents, it's the feeling...I think this is what God really intended us to experience while also remembering the real meaning of the season. Giving gifts to each other is just a metaphor for showing love...the way He shows love to us daily. There is this awful commercial I saw on TV, and these shoes are talking and one is telling the other how awful of a friend she is because of the gift she got her. While it's meant to be funny, it takes the commercialization of Christmas to a whole new level. It kind of made me sad. Sure, it's totally normal to laugh when you get that weird gift from your distant relative with all the cats (true story), but it's just rude to bash someone for it...such audacity to suggest that you deserve more.
Don't forget to look outside your window and acknowledge the gifts we take for granted every day.
What are your traditions?
Much Love
T♥
The air moves from crisp to frozen, turning the ground to stone. Snow comes next falling quietly over the meadows and roads. If you listen closely, you can hear it gently meet the ground, the sound slightly scolding as if to say "shhhhhhh". When it falls at night, you'll see the reflection of the street lamps on the flakes as they follow the stream of light down. The moon meets it there and the snow replies as if to say it's settling in to stay awhile.
I love going home for Christmas...if I'm lucky it will snow while I'm there. It's nostalgia. If you could bottle it, you could sell it easily. I really think this is what most people are looking for as they start their yearly routines. They are chasing their childhood or trying to create a better one for their children. Stringing lights and decorating the tree, the customary practices. Baking cookies and bread, the accustomed fragrances of pine and apple cider.
It's not about presents, it's the feeling...I think this is what God really intended us to experience while also remembering the real meaning of the season. Giving gifts to each other is just a metaphor for showing love...the way He shows love to us daily. There is this awful commercial I saw on TV, and these shoes are talking and one is telling the other how awful of a friend she is because of the gift she got her. While it's meant to be funny, it takes the commercialization of Christmas to a whole new level. It kind of made me sad. Sure, it's totally normal to laugh when you get that weird gift from your distant relative with all the cats (true story), but it's just rude to bash someone for it...such audacity to suggest that you deserve more.
Don't forget to look outside your window and acknowledge the gifts we take for granted every day.
What are your traditions?
Much Love
T♥
11.01.2010
Everything Changes
Every so often I'll be posting lyrics that really get to me. Like they might have been written just for me. Ever feel like that? Today's choice is Everything Changes, by Staind. This is one of several beautifully written songs by this band. This is one of those songs that is kind of part of me, especially. I suppose, music is my therapy. I heard it in Fred Meyer of all places the other day... so random, and I've been thinking about sharing it ever since. I've posted the link to the acoustic version of the song on my Facebook.
It seems appropriate to post the lyrics to songs that are "part of me" - because I truly believe it's the only way to really get to know me. I love all genres from Classical to Christian to Metal. I think it's in my DNA. I play the piano. I write my own songs and lyrics too. Maybe when I get a little braver, I'll share those too.
I hope you find comfort in these or other lyrics I may post in the future. At times, it might be just one line of a song that changes you. Other times, it's the entire thing, instruments and all.
For me, music can draw my true feelings out and help me deal with emotions I might be feeling, whether good or bad. Try it. Let your true feelings surface and see what happens. You will be better for it.
Everything Changes
If you just walked away
What could I really say?
Would it matter anyway?
Would it change how you feel?
I am the mess you chose
The closet you cannot close
The devil in you, i suppose
'Cause the wounds never heal
But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel
Sometimes the things I say
In moments of disarray
Succumbing to the games we play
To make sure that it's real
But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel
When it's just me and you
Who knows what we could do
If we can just make it through
The toughest part of the day
But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could
Learn how to feel
Then we could
Stay here together
And we could
Conquer the world
If we could
Say that forever
Is more than just a word
If you just walked away
What could I really say?
And would it matter anyway?
It wouldn't change how you feel
It seems appropriate to post the lyrics to songs that are "part of me" - because I truly believe it's the only way to really get to know me. I love all genres from Classical to Christian to Metal. I think it's in my DNA. I play the piano. I write my own songs and lyrics too. Maybe when I get a little braver, I'll share those too.
I hope you find comfort in these or other lyrics I may post in the future. At times, it might be just one line of a song that changes you. Other times, it's the entire thing, instruments and all.
For me, music can draw my true feelings out and help me deal with emotions I might be feeling, whether good or bad. Try it. Let your true feelings surface and see what happens. You will be better for it.
Everything Changes
If you just walked away
What could I really say?
Would it matter anyway?
Would it change how you feel?
I am the mess you chose
The closet you cannot close
The devil in you, i suppose
'Cause the wounds never heal
But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel
Sometimes the things I say
In moments of disarray
Succumbing to the games we play
To make sure that it's real
But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel
When it's just me and you
Who knows what we could do
If we can just make it through
The toughest part of the day
But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could
Learn how to feel
Then we could
Stay here together
And we could
Conquer the world
If we could
Say that forever
Is more than just a word
If you just walked away
What could I really say?
And would it matter anyway?
It wouldn't change how you feel
10.30.2010
A little dark... I warned you "enter at your own risk"!!
I have vivid dreams. Sometimes, they are so real, I can't remember if it was just a dream or if it actually happened. Many times there are songs in them, like a soundtrack. I suppose that's kind of cool, but sometimes it just bugs me. The other night the soundtrack was the song "Falling to pieces" and it was stuck in my head all day. Then another time it was the song by Far East Movement "Like a G6" - try getting THAT out of your head. (If you haven't heard it, please google it and enjoy that one entrapped in your mind for awhile!)
I have a recurring dream. It happens once every few weeks or so. It's always about the same thing, the same issue that needs to be resolved. Sometimes the place or details change, but it always has the same end result. I always wake up affected. Sad. Happy. Thoughtful. Some would say it's a sign. Maybe someone somewhere is trying to tell me something? Psychologists would say it's because this area in my life needs to be resolved. I like the first choice. I prefer to think that it's a sign. Probably because resolving something means dealing with it. I don't really want to, because I like the dream and however irritating it might be it keeps me connected to my feelings. The real ones. The ones that people always try to cover up from everyone else.
Do you do that? Do you keep your real feelings hidden? Do you go about your life acting as though everything just couldn't be better? Putting on appearances? That's not to say that you don't love your life and the people in it. You may absolutely be content. I believe there is more to a person though. Whatever it was that might have influenced you emotionally long ago, maybe when you were little, or maybe someone you really loved...it's not like it just goes away. It carves a place in your heart and that's where all the old affections live, until you have a dream or hear a song, or smell something that transports you back to that time in your life. You reminisce. You feel nostalgic and at times you miss it, not because you are discontented, but more because it's totally part of you now. You may not even know it, -as you sit there and try to figure out why your even letting it be a thought - but it has created who you are today. So I suppose it's right to accept it. I know not everyone does... they want to forget because it was shameful or unacceptable, or it shows vulnerability, and they are known to be the "strong one". They have the perfect appearance now. The truth is that you can keep those feelings and places inside hidden for years. But eventually they will come out, like a sliver in your skin, your mind will reject it and you will have no choice but to face it.
Don't be ashamed of what made you who you are, or the people involved in sculpting you into what you are today. Embrace it. It's the same as when you were little and you were told "if you tell the truth, you won't be in as much trouble as you will if you tell a lie". So true. Who knew that was going to be applied to your entire life and not just that one instant. Do you see the metaphor? Perhaps, I should take my own advice.
Until next time, my lovelies
T♥
I have a recurring dream. It happens once every few weeks or so. It's always about the same thing, the same issue that needs to be resolved. Sometimes the place or details change, but it always has the same end result. I always wake up affected. Sad. Happy. Thoughtful. Some would say it's a sign. Maybe someone somewhere is trying to tell me something? Psychologists would say it's because this area in my life needs to be resolved. I like the first choice. I prefer to think that it's a sign. Probably because resolving something means dealing with it. I don't really want to, because I like the dream and however irritating it might be it keeps me connected to my feelings. The real ones. The ones that people always try to cover up from everyone else.
Do you do that? Do you keep your real feelings hidden? Do you go about your life acting as though everything just couldn't be better? Putting on appearances? That's not to say that you don't love your life and the people in it. You may absolutely be content. I believe there is more to a person though. Whatever it was that might have influenced you emotionally long ago, maybe when you were little, or maybe someone you really loved...it's not like it just goes away. It carves a place in your heart and that's where all the old affections live, until you have a dream or hear a song, or smell something that transports you back to that time in your life. You reminisce. You feel nostalgic and at times you miss it, not because you are discontented, but more because it's totally part of you now. You may not even know it, -as you sit there and try to figure out why your even letting it be a thought - but it has created who you are today. So I suppose it's right to accept it. I know not everyone does... they want to forget because it was shameful or unacceptable, or it shows vulnerability, and they are known to be the "strong one". They have the perfect appearance now. The truth is that you can keep those feelings and places inside hidden for years. But eventually they will come out, like a sliver in your skin, your mind will reject it and you will have no choice but to face it.
Don't be ashamed of what made you who you are, or the people involved in sculpting you into what you are today. Embrace it. It's the same as when you were little and you were told "if you tell the truth, you won't be in as much trouble as you will if you tell a lie". So true. Who knew that was going to be applied to your entire life and not just that one instant. Do you see the metaphor? Perhaps, I should take my own advice.
Until next time, my lovelies
T♥
10.24.2010
Reasons
I'm weird. It's okay... I've dealt with it. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to. In fact, as I get older, it's kind of a welcome blessing that I'm not just ordinary. It might be more accurate to say instead that I'm dealing with it. Have you noticed as we get older we lose our sense of imagination? We have somehow discarded our ability to believe without reason. Sometimes, even people with an abundance of faith find themselves searching for validation. They have forgotten what the definition of faith is. I always attribute faith to the wind. You can't see it physically. But you can see it's effects... The trees and how they sway to it, like it's their own personal music. You can feel it when it moves the air across your face. You know it's there. There is proof.
Intuition. I have that. Funny, I make it sound like an illness and truthfully, it feels like it at times. My strong intuition gives me a sense of the things and people around me. Not just that they are there... but descriptive details. How, you might ask, I have no idea. It can be exhausting because, unlike when I was younger, I'm always searching for proof and reasoning as to why I sense these things and for what purpose. When your 5, no one accuses you of being crazy for playing with your imaginary friends or talking to your stuffed animals. No, no, no...I don't have imaginary friends (they aren't made up anyway..) and I don't talk to my stuffed animals (not all the time anymore, haha). When you are older all that ease disappears and people tend to conform. I've conformed to being responsible and trying to be a good mom, and any big decision is always based on that... those were my choices and those people I'm tied to are owed that respect by me. However, in most other ways, I haven't. I just don't want to. I refuse. I make the deliberate choice to think about life in another way. What a waste it would be to only think about what I have to do every day...my job, my schedule, my clothing options, what to eat, how I really dislike bad drivers, watch a couple of TV shows, go to bed and repeat the next day. Sure, I do those things. But in between I start thinking and all of a sudden I'm experiencing.
There was a storm today...lightning and thunder, wind and rain. I walked to the beach to take some pictures. On the way, it was cold and I drew my jacket in close around me. Quarter-size drops of rain pelted and stung my face. I started to conform and think this was a dumb idea, I should turn back...instead I chose to experience it drawing in the brisk air through my nose and feeling the icy rush into my lungs. I pushed forward, my shoes sinking into the wet sand with each step. I was tempted to close my eyes and shut out the burn of the wind but I kept them open. I reached the end of the trail to meet the ocean, roaring in my ears. The tide was driving in and the waves were intimidating as I ventured closer. There was no beach to walk on today and I was confined to the safety of the grassy dunes. It was powerful to say the least. I wasn't just looking at it. I was encountering it. I felt like it was encountering me. It wasn't just water, it seemed...alive.
It would be suffice to say that the peculiar design of my thoughts is all for a reason. But I don't need one. I'm contented to say I'm blessed and anyone who might be sweetened by reading my thoughts, even ever so slightly, are most likely the reasons themselves.
Take time out to experience your life. I'm absolutely certain there are some who would give anything to experience their lives once more.
Enjoy it.
Love,
T♥
Intuition. I have that. Funny, I make it sound like an illness and truthfully, it feels like it at times. My strong intuition gives me a sense of the things and people around me. Not just that they are there... but descriptive details. How, you might ask, I have no idea. It can be exhausting because, unlike when I was younger, I'm always searching for proof and reasoning as to why I sense these things and for what purpose. When your 5, no one accuses you of being crazy for playing with your imaginary friends or talking to your stuffed animals. No, no, no...I don't have imaginary friends (they aren't made up anyway..) and I don't talk to my stuffed animals (not all the time anymore, haha). When you are older all that ease disappears and people tend to conform. I've conformed to being responsible and trying to be a good mom, and any big decision is always based on that... those were my choices and those people I'm tied to are owed that respect by me. However, in most other ways, I haven't. I just don't want to. I refuse. I make the deliberate choice to think about life in another way. What a waste it would be to only think about what I have to do every day...my job, my schedule, my clothing options, what to eat, how I really dislike bad drivers, watch a couple of TV shows, go to bed and repeat the next day. Sure, I do those things. But in between I start thinking and all of a sudden I'm experiencing.
There was a storm today...lightning and thunder, wind and rain. I walked to the beach to take some pictures. On the way, it was cold and I drew my jacket in close around me. Quarter-size drops of rain pelted and stung my face. I started to conform and think this was a dumb idea, I should turn back...instead I chose to experience it drawing in the brisk air through my nose and feeling the icy rush into my lungs. I pushed forward, my shoes sinking into the wet sand with each step. I was tempted to close my eyes and shut out the burn of the wind but I kept them open. I reached the end of the trail to meet the ocean, roaring in my ears. The tide was driving in and the waves were intimidating as I ventured closer. There was no beach to walk on today and I was confined to the safety of the grassy dunes. It was powerful to say the least. I wasn't just looking at it. I was encountering it. I felt like it was encountering me. It wasn't just water, it seemed...alive.
It would be suffice to say that the peculiar design of my thoughts is all for a reason. But I don't need one. I'm contented to say I'm blessed and anyone who might be sweetened by reading my thoughts, even ever so slightly, are most likely the reasons themselves.
Take time out to experience your life. I'm absolutely certain there are some who would give anything to experience their lives once more.
Enjoy it.
Love,
T♥
10.21.2010
Teenagers are a blessing...
Welllllll... it's happened. I'm officially the mother of a teenager. (Ew. NOT "mother".. I really dislike that word, it makes me feel old.) Let's start over. I'm officially the mom of a teenager. (Much better.) I keep trying to figure out how this has occurred and I can't quite sum it up...I'm obviously not old enough. haha..oh, I guess I am. But we'll just keep that between you and I.
I guess it started to happen a few years ago when we had Tyler's 12th birthday party at the local pizza place. He invited all his friends to join him for a little food and video games for the afternoon. I order the pizza and drinks and before 15 minutes have passed, Tyler is telling me that I need to order some food for them to eat. "I did!!" I say, and start to go up to the counter to find out what the hold up is. He says "no mom, I already ate that...".. Surely, there must be some mistake. I'm astonished as I've ordered 2 large pizzas and 2 pitchers of pop. But as I look down at what used to be a large cheese pizza on a pan, I'm faced with reality. He ate the whole thing... I'm lost as to how this has happened. In my mind he's only 5 years old. Well, wait, no he's 8-- oh dear that was 4 years ago... he's 12. What? Where have I been? Oh, now I remember...
For those of you who don't know, you will find out one day - so I might as well tell you now. When your child turns 12 (sometimes earlier) they are replaced by a clone from outer space. I am unsure how this actually takes place, but it must be while you are sleeping, because one night you will tuck into bed, that precious gift from God, and the next morning they will awake with a vengeance. You'll find yourself speechless as you say (as you always have) "Good Morning, buddy!" and you are slapped in the face with "you're ruining my life!!" You'll shrug it off at first as a fluke of sorts until- as the days and weeks go by, you realize they are morphing into someone else. Before long, they are 12 and completely immersed in Jr High and your biggest hurdle then is to find just one phrase in the English language that does not utterly embarrass them... (who knew "Have a good day!" was such a death sentence.) The easy job of shopping for clothes turns into a horrifying ordeal as you tip-toe the racks afraid to suggest even one item of clothing. It's pointless really, as apparently, adults are incapable of style and we have "no idea how ugly" everything we pick out is. Also, they know everything. Not just some things, absolutely everything. You'll see this as whenever you open your mouth, before you can even finish the sentence they will cut you off with "I KNOW." This goes for reminders - "Don't forget to turn in your homework." "I KNOW." Maybe a simple statement "Hey, your favorite show is on tonight!" "I KNOW". You will eventually concede that this fortress of knowledge cannot be broken and you regress to -"Hey just want you to know I love you"... can you guess the answer? Yep, they know. This is also goes hand in hand with the fact that they are NEVER wrong. NEVER. And if they are, well of course, it's probably your fault.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. They return around age 14 (again, probably while you are sleeping), and the hurricane that was your child emerges from the clouds. The sun actually shines a little while an angelic "Hallelujah" chorus is quietly versing through your mind. You get a glimpse of who they might be as an adult in little things that they do and you're able to take a deep breath for the first time in 3 years. You made it!! It's not completely incident free. There is still the random "you're ruining my life" and "leave me alone" but much fewer and far between. Mostly, I just watch as he goes through all the experiences of high school, each milestone marking the way, a silent reminder of how fast time goes by. Freshman year...milestone...performing at the games with pep band (and they are really good!!)... milestone. Now, he's going to Homecoming this weekend... with a date...another milestone.
I find myself lost in my thoughts a lot, thinking about Ty and how we got from that sweet little boy who sang along to Sesame Street, who used to chase bubbles outside- the same one who melted my heart with one little grin, and required "hugs please" and I would bury my chin on top of his white-blond hair...Who is this boy and how did he end up taller than me... am I actually looking up at him? I suppose he is still there. He still sings along, only to different songs now.. and he still melts my heart with his smile. Now I am the one who requires "hugs please", and he rests his chin on top of my head!
My daughter turned 11 this year... dun, dun, dun... I suppose the clones will arrive sometime in the near future...
In the meantime, I will continue to remind myself of how truly blessed I am.
Until then~
Love
T♥
I guess it started to happen a few years ago when we had Tyler's 12th birthday party at the local pizza place. He invited all his friends to join him for a little food and video games for the afternoon. I order the pizza and drinks and before 15 minutes have passed, Tyler is telling me that I need to order some food for them to eat. "I did!!" I say, and start to go up to the counter to find out what the hold up is. He says "no mom, I already ate that...".. Surely, there must be some mistake. I'm astonished as I've ordered 2 large pizzas and 2 pitchers of pop. But as I look down at what used to be a large cheese pizza on a pan, I'm faced with reality. He ate the whole thing... I'm lost as to how this has happened. In my mind he's only 5 years old. Well, wait, no he's 8-- oh dear that was 4 years ago... he's 12. What? Where have I been? Oh, now I remember...
For those of you who don't know, you will find out one day - so I might as well tell you now. When your child turns 12 (sometimes earlier) they are replaced by a clone from outer space. I am unsure how this actually takes place, but it must be while you are sleeping, because one night you will tuck into bed, that precious gift from God, and the next morning they will awake with a vengeance. You'll find yourself speechless as you say (as you always have) "Good Morning, buddy!" and you are slapped in the face with "you're ruining my life!!" You'll shrug it off at first as a fluke of sorts until- as the days and weeks go by, you realize they are morphing into someone else. Before long, they are 12 and completely immersed in Jr High and your biggest hurdle then is to find just one phrase in the English language that does not utterly embarrass them... (who knew "Have a good day!" was such a death sentence.) The easy job of shopping for clothes turns into a horrifying ordeal as you tip-toe the racks afraid to suggest even one item of clothing. It's pointless really, as apparently, adults are incapable of style and we have "no idea how ugly" everything we pick out is. Also, they know everything. Not just some things, absolutely everything. You'll see this as whenever you open your mouth, before you can even finish the sentence they will cut you off with "I KNOW." This goes for reminders - "Don't forget to turn in your homework." "I KNOW." Maybe a simple statement "Hey, your favorite show is on tonight!" "I KNOW". You will eventually concede that this fortress of knowledge cannot be broken and you regress to -"Hey just want you to know I love you"... can you guess the answer? Yep, they know. This is also goes hand in hand with the fact that they are NEVER wrong. NEVER. And if they are, well of course, it's probably your fault.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. They return around age 14 (again, probably while you are sleeping), and the hurricane that was your child emerges from the clouds. The sun actually shines a little while an angelic "Hallelujah" chorus is quietly versing through your mind. You get a glimpse of who they might be as an adult in little things that they do and you're able to take a deep breath for the first time in 3 years. You made it!! It's not completely incident free. There is still the random "you're ruining my life" and "leave me alone" but much fewer and far between. Mostly, I just watch as he goes through all the experiences of high school, each milestone marking the way, a silent reminder of how fast time goes by. Freshman year...milestone...performing at the games with pep band (and they are really good!!)... milestone. Now, he's going to Homecoming this weekend... with a date...another milestone.
I find myself lost in my thoughts a lot, thinking about Ty and how we got from that sweet little boy who sang along to Sesame Street, who used to chase bubbles outside- the same one who melted my heart with one little grin, and required "hugs please" and I would bury my chin on top of his white-blond hair...Who is this boy and how did he end up taller than me... am I actually looking up at him? I suppose he is still there. He still sings along, only to different songs now.. and he still melts my heart with his smile. Now I am the one who requires "hugs please", and he rests his chin on top of my head!
My daughter turned 11 this year... dun, dun, dun... I suppose the clones will arrive sometime in the near future...
In the meantime, I will continue to remind myself of how truly blessed I am.
Until then~
Love
T♥
10.16.2010
Ode to Summer...
If you have ever lived on a farm or near one, you know what a wheel line is. A long watering mechanism with sprinklers for a head and wheels for feet. There is it's mama, the center-pivot...a massive system with one large sprinkler on the end and several drops along the tubing to the middle of the field. Many a child shivering at the thought of being hit by that end sprinkler while riding our bikes on the back roads in the summer. It was like being pelted with the stream from a fire hose, knocking you on your butt, drenching you completely and easily. I swear I could hear it laugh as it passed on, the click of the sprinkler saying "tsk, tsk, frail human"...
Summer was a paradise. The sun soaked you during the day and dragged lazily to dusk stretching out its departure to the very last minute every night. We ran and played jumping about, occasionally finding hidden treasure in the hot earth and sometimes burying our own. Road 7 ran behind my house (about a quarter mile behind me across a corn field.) My friend Lisa lived down that road about a mile and half. Surely, we had worn tire tracks into the pavement going back and forth on our bikes when we realized we were "neighbors" (haha) We were 11 (my daughter's age now) when we decided to bury our treasure - A mason jar full of silver! (etch-a-sketch dust).
With the exception of a couple of main arteries through the valley, our play land consisted of roads named for letters and numbers. Simple and effective as if to taunt the bigger cities about their parkways and boulevards of fancy names. We swam in the lakes and ditches, sometimes the city pool... we laid in fields staring up at the endless blue and breathed in the aroma of alfalfa, the scent of home. We gorged ourselves full of the summer high until it was time to come back down and face the reality of going back to school.
As we all got older, we had parties in secret locations (the patch, the trees...yes I remember them all but a few have names I'm not going to repeat!!) Some of us painted the tunnel with our names and the names of the boys and girls we loved. Others invaded Crescent Bar to mingle with the "206-ers" that would colonize the area from Memorial Day to Labor Day. I had a group of best friends I did everything with. I remember coming down to earth one day while we were all out swimming at H Lake. I watched my "girls" laying on the rocks to stay warm, jumping off the cliff to the water below, the bronze of summer on their faces. I wondered in that instant if we would always be friends.. would we always stay together? We made a pact, "best friends forever" so it had to be true right? Would our lives change enough that they wouldn't be my next door neighbors when we became adults? I pondered this as I sat atop of the rocks at H Lake that afternoon. My intuition told me I would be writing about this one day, so enjoy while it lasted. I made a point of memorizing the area around me, from the first splash to the drive home. When I think about it today I can visualize it all. It is one of my only memories so vivid.
I've lived away from the area for 7 years. The place I live now feels somewhat like home...but I sense how mistaken I am each time we are driving in from I-90 at George to Quincy. If it happens to be summer I roll down the windows (affffter the feedlot..haha) and breath the alfalfa and mint just like I did as a kid. The nostalgia is instant. All I have to do is close my eyes and listen for the click of the wheel line and I'm home.
A lot has changed. We have some streets in town with actual names! There is much more industry and some of the farms have disappeared. But the area is still the same, the familiar flatness of the land hasn't changed, and good ole Road 7 is still there. As we pass it each summer on our way into town, I strain my neck trying to see a little glint of silver under the power lines where we buried our treasure so long ago. I've never seen it, of course, but I can't help but hope it's still there, holding a bit of summer's past and etch a sketch dust inside.
For those of you who know exactly what I mean: Here's to summer♥
Love,
T♥
Summer was a paradise. The sun soaked you during the day and dragged lazily to dusk stretching out its departure to the very last minute every night. We ran and played jumping about, occasionally finding hidden treasure in the hot earth and sometimes burying our own. Road 7 ran behind my house (about a quarter mile behind me across a corn field.) My friend Lisa lived down that road about a mile and half. Surely, we had worn tire tracks into the pavement going back and forth on our bikes when we realized we were "neighbors" (haha) We were 11 (my daughter's age now) when we decided to bury our treasure - A mason jar full of silver! (etch-a-sketch dust).
With the exception of a couple of main arteries through the valley, our play land consisted of roads named for letters and numbers. Simple and effective as if to taunt the bigger cities about their parkways and boulevards of fancy names. We swam in the lakes and ditches, sometimes the city pool... we laid in fields staring up at the endless blue and breathed in the aroma of alfalfa, the scent of home. We gorged ourselves full of the summer high until it was time to come back down and face the reality of going back to school.
As we all got older, we had parties in secret locations (the patch, the trees...yes I remember them all but a few have names I'm not going to repeat!!) Some of us painted the tunnel with our names and the names of the boys and girls we loved. Others invaded Crescent Bar to mingle with the "206-ers" that would colonize the area from Memorial Day to Labor Day. I had a group of best friends I did everything with. I remember coming down to earth one day while we were all out swimming at H Lake. I watched my "girls" laying on the rocks to stay warm, jumping off the cliff to the water below, the bronze of summer on their faces. I wondered in that instant if we would always be friends.. would we always stay together? We made a pact, "best friends forever" so it had to be true right? Would our lives change enough that they wouldn't be my next door neighbors when we became adults? I pondered this as I sat atop of the rocks at H Lake that afternoon. My intuition told me I would be writing about this one day, so enjoy while it lasted. I made a point of memorizing the area around me, from the first splash to the drive home. When I think about it today I can visualize it all. It is one of my only memories so vivid.
I've lived away from the area for 7 years. The place I live now feels somewhat like home...but I sense how mistaken I am each time we are driving in from I-90 at George to Quincy. If it happens to be summer I roll down the windows (affffter the feedlot..haha) and breath the alfalfa and mint just like I did as a kid. The nostalgia is instant. All I have to do is close my eyes and listen for the click of the wheel line and I'm home.
A lot has changed. We have some streets in town with actual names! There is much more industry and some of the farms have disappeared. But the area is still the same, the familiar flatness of the land hasn't changed, and good ole Road 7 is still there. As we pass it each summer on our way into town, I strain my neck trying to see a little glint of silver under the power lines where we buried our treasure so long ago. I've never seen it, of course, but I can't help but hope it's still there, holding a bit of summer's past and etch a sketch dust inside.
For those of you who know exactly what I mean: Here's to summer♥
Love,
T♥
10.15.2010
Have my cake and eat it...ALL
I'm a spiritual person...I believe God created us and all things. He did a pretty good job (way to go God!) on most things. But what happened when he was creating food? He made all the things I want to eat daily bad for me...(not His fault.. perhaps he thought we would LOVE Lima beans!) Yesterday, I wanted to eat a whole cake. (Funny, this happened right after I posted about my life changing reality and how wonderful it was to be living and changed, haha, of course...) This is what happened...
So I hopped on the treadmill yesterday, so proud, running almost 3 miles. I felt great! I showered and got ready for work, happy, singing in the car.. ahh life was good.
I arrive and walk into the break room where we store our coats a personal belongings. It's like someone set a trap for me. There on the table is a cake. Not just any cake, but German Chocolate, my favorite. I look around expecting a person dressed in black with a mask sneaking out the back door, but, no one is there. Apparently, it's not a trap set intentionally for me.. just a simple birthday gesture for a coworker. I don't go near it, I'm avoiding it like it's a land mine or something..walking gingerly around it to fill my water bottle (good job, T water is good!!) and I go out to my desk. I'm working away, talking to customers, smiling.. but inside I'm thinking about the cake. Their voices fade to the background as my mind wanders to the yummy goodness awaiting me. NO! I will NOT deviate. I shake my head and think "can I seriously be this focused on a stupid CAKE??!" My lunch time is coming soon, and silly me I haven't had anything else to eat but my morning protein bar and I can feel the hunger pangs in my stomach. Time inches closer to my lunch hour, each minute making a loud click as the hands move on the clock. It's unavoidable and I stand up to leave the lobby like I'm walking to my execution. I'm standing at the doorway to the break room and I suddenly feel like a mouse and the cake is the cheese. (Let's be real, I would have been just as excited for cheese but for arguments sake let's move forward.) I'm moving a little at a time, studying it...looking around every few seconds to see if anyone is behind me. I feel guilty already just looking at it! I clear my head and decide this is ridiculous and I walk with my head high to the fridge to retrieve my healthy salad and HA! my DIET COKE.. not water, for a treat. (take THAT, cake!) I'm minding my own business, doing my daily crossword and Sudoku (NO, I'm not a nerd, it helps me stay sharp...okay...maybe I'm a little nerdy.) In walks another employee, the one who the cake is for with a couple of other people. "Alrighty, she says, time to cut into this baby!!" I'm panicking just a little, but, I'm holding it together. They slice into the cake and start serving themselves. Meanwhile, I'm salivating like a dog under the dinner table. I don't know why I'm doing this to myself. Probably because I've been denying myself anything remotely sugary for awhile now. This proves to be a mistake as, after they leave and I'm alone in my misery, I decide to end my suffering and just have a little...
Was it ever good...each slice. Yes. Each -as in more than one- slice. Oh yeah, baby, I started with one tiny sliver..then another.. and then one more. I'm reasoning with myself that I haven't had a full piece yet, until I realize that a good portion of the cake is gone. Not the whole thing, but, a significant area of the cake has disappeared. I feel like the kid who has been sneaking the cookies without mom knowing until the jar is empty. I don't think anyone will notice, and hey, plenty of people got their share. Someone else walks into the break room as I'm pondering my actions and has the audacity to state "WOW, I better get some of this cake before it's gone! Is it any good?" I must consider the facts. I've eaten the cake. I'm not gonna lie about it. I will confess. I say "yes..." (yes mom, I ate the cookies.) I'm waiting for some kind of judgement, but it never comes. Why? Because no one has given it a second thought. The only person that is being hard on themselves is me!
Why do we do this? So I had some cake!! BIG WHOOP! I haven't eaten cake in months! It's not like I eat cake daily..(oh but I so could.. hahaha). We are all so hard on ourselves, especially as women. (Guys are too, but, I sincerely doubt very many guys have analyzed eating a cake.) Most women have no idea how beautiful they are, inside AND out. We are critical of our every move, worried about what others may think or worst of all totally harsh on ourselves. We must get over this. We must do the best with what we have while still remembering who we are, for real. Now eating cake daily (or whatever your "cake" may be) isn't the best choice to be healthy, it is okay to just be a girl sometimes. Take a deep breath. Things are only as big of a deal as we make them out to be. Don't forget that you were once just a girl, carefree and full of spirit. Don't lose that part of yourself in your daily routine....and if you have..go find her. Chances are she's been missing you, too.
Eat your cake girls,
Love T♥
So I hopped on the treadmill yesterday, so proud, running almost 3 miles. I felt great! I showered and got ready for work, happy, singing in the car.. ahh life was good.
I arrive and walk into the break room where we store our coats a personal belongings. It's like someone set a trap for me. There on the table is a cake. Not just any cake, but German Chocolate, my favorite. I look around expecting a person dressed in black with a mask sneaking out the back door, but, no one is there. Apparently, it's not a trap set intentionally for me.. just a simple birthday gesture for a coworker. I don't go near it, I'm avoiding it like it's a land mine or something..walking gingerly around it to fill my water bottle (good job, T water is good!!) and I go out to my desk. I'm working away, talking to customers, smiling.. but inside I'm thinking about the cake. Their voices fade to the background as my mind wanders to the yummy goodness awaiting me. NO! I will NOT deviate. I shake my head and think "can I seriously be this focused on a stupid CAKE??!" My lunch time is coming soon, and silly me I haven't had anything else to eat but my morning protein bar and I can feel the hunger pangs in my stomach. Time inches closer to my lunch hour, each minute making a loud click as the hands move on the clock. It's unavoidable and I stand up to leave the lobby like I'm walking to my execution. I'm standing at the doorway to the break room and I suddenly feel like a mouse and the cake is the cheese. (Let's be real, I would have been just as excited for cheese but for arguments sake let's move forward.) I'm moving a little at a time, studying it...looking around every few seconds to see if anyone is behind me. I feel guilty already just looking at it! I clear my head and decide this is ridiculous and I walk with my head high to the fridge to retrieve my healthy salad and HA! my DIET COKE.. not water, for a treat. (take THAT, cake!) I'm minding my own business, doing my daily crossword and Sudoku (NO, I'm not a nerd, it helps me stay sharp...okay...maybe I'm a little nerdy.) In walks another employee, the one who the cake is for with a couple of other people. "Alrighty, she says, time to cut into this baby!!" I'm panicking just a little, but, I'm holding it together. They slice into the cake and start serving themselves. Meanwhile, I'm salivating like a dog under the dinner table. I don't know why I'm doing this to myself. Probably because I've been denying myself anything remotely sugary for awhile now. This proves to be a mistake as, after they leave and I'm alone in my misery, I decide to end my suffering and just have a little...
Was it ever good...each slice. Yes. Each -as in more than one- slice. Oh yeah, baby, I started with one tiny sliver..then another.. and then one more. I'm reasoning with myself that I haven't had a full piece yet, until I realize that a good portion of the cake is gone. Not the whole thing, but, a significant area of the cake has disappeared. I feel like the kid who has been sneaking the cookies without mom knowing until the jar is empty. I don't think anyone will notice, and hey, plenty of people got their share. Someone else walks into the break room as I'm pondering my actions and has the audacity to state "WOW, I better get some of this cake before it's gone! Is it any good?" I must consider the facts. I've eaten the cake. I'm not gonna lie about it. I will confess. I say "yes..." (yes mom, I ate the cookies.) I'm waiting for some kind of judgement, but it never comes. Why? Because no one has given it a second thought. The only person that is being hard on themselves is me!
Why do we do this? So I had some cake!! BIG WHOOP! I haven't eaten cake in months! It's not like I eat cake daily..(oh but I so could.. hahaha). We are all so hard on ourselves, especially as women. (Guys are too, but, I sincerely doubt very many guys have analyzed eating a cake.) Most women have no idea how beautiful they are, inside AND out. We are critical of our every move, worried about what others may think or worst of all totally harsh on ourselves. We must get over this. We must do the best with what we have while still remembering who we are, for real. Now eating cake daily (or whatever your "cake" may be) isn't the best choice to be healthy, it is okay to just be a girl sometimes. Take a deep breath. Things are only as big of a deal as we make them out to be. Don't forget that you were once just a girl, carefree and full of spirit. Don't lose that part of yourself in your daily routine....and if you have..go find her. Chances are she's been missing you, too.
Eat your cake girls,
Love T♥
10.14.2010
I ran so far away!!!!
For those of you who know me, you know I've been struggling to get into shape for a good year now. I started out going to a dietician which turned out to be a great choice. I learned a lot about what I actually eat, what I should eat and what I shouldn't.
I started out great.. I was going along, eating healthy, proud of myself. Then it happened.
The Event.
Last Christmas, I was at my parents house and we were getting ready to go out for the day, ice skating, holiday shopping, typical holiday activities. I had put my hair up earlier and I was primping in the mirror when I decided I'd better check the back of my hair to make sure it was in place. I pick up a hand mirror and proceed to my backside's reflection. You know those horror movies where the camera flashes from scene to scene with the scary music that gets louder and louder, until someone screams? This is what took place at that moment in my head. My hair? No, that was fine. It was the unfamiliar rear in the jeans staring back at me that scared the living daylights out of me. "Whose butt is that?", I ask myself in my head. Because it isn't mine. It's the ass of someone I don't know, right? Surely, there is someone in this bathroom with me, playing a trick. Someone I might see out and about and think "dang, she should do something about that and rethink those pants.." I don't know how else to describe it, and maybe it's better I don't give a detailed description...but in a word or two, it simply looked like it had given up. Perhaps gravity played a factor as the once shapely area of my body had taken a dive and deflated. It sounds superficial, but I had a mini nervous breakdown. I changed into something else (20 outfits and needless to say a longer shirt) and we went on our way.
That was my moment of truth. My subconscious gave me a lecture.."T, you're in your 30's now, it's not going to be like it was 10 years ago where I could skip a meal, lose 10 pounds and call it good." I'd never had a weight problem...but more than just the weight, I'd never been unhealthy.
I started a workout called Slim in 6. "6" means weeks...(I was hoping that meant minutes, heck, I'd settle for 6 days!!) But no, it meant weeks...6 long, excruciating weeks. It's a series of workouts that start out at 24 minutes and then get longer as you progress. I fondly called it "Slim in kill me now"...(and a few other colorful phrases on bad days..)
But I stuck with it... I used muscles I didn't know I had, and (after many "Lord help me's", "God give me strength" and "Travis shoot me now") I welcomed back the ones I had been missing. Before long, I mastered the program..It became easy. I lost weight. Lots of it. More than that, I became healthier.
And so it was time....
Time to check that rear-view mirror,. It had been 6 months. I said a silent prayer (Something like "Dear God, please!!!"). Lo and Behold there it was...in all it's glory... hahaha, okay... no, not really...but definitely improved!!
It had all started out as a mission in vanity. I wanted to look better.. and yeah, I guess I wanted to feel better...but I was focused on what I looked like. What I got was so much more...
We were all walking to the beach one afternoon and my kids (14 and 11) were running ahead... I said "Hey wait up!!" and I burst into a run.. A RUN!! I was shocked. It was EASY! I wasn't tired, it didn't hurt and the look on Abby and Tyler's face was priceless like "NO WAY"
Nothing is better than being able to run and play with them and not get tired.. not bend over and gasp for air after a few yards...I had no idea when I started that I would gain anything!! I gained so many more rewards for being in shape than just looking great in my jeans... I'm living now, not just biding my time waiting to get older. I'm living. I changed. Not just the shape of my body, my entire outlook on life. Thank God.
Life is so good. I'm blessed beyond belief. And yes... I'm loving the view....... from all sides.
Live well, my lovelies.
Love, T♥
I started out great.. I was going along, eating healthy, proud of myself. Then it happened.
The Event.
Last Christmas, I was at my parents house and we were getting ready to go out for the day, ice skating, holiday shopping, typical holiday activities. I had put my hair up earlier and I was primping in the mirror when I decided I'd better check the back of my hair to make sure it was in place. I pick up a hand mirror and proceed to my backside's reflection. You know those horror movies where the camera flashes from scene to scene with the scary music that gets louder and louder, until someone screams? This is what took place at that moment in my head. My hair? No, that was fine. It was the unfamiliar rear in the jeans staring back at me that scared the living daylights out of me. "Whose butt is that?", I ask myself in my head. Because it isn't mine. It's the ass of someone I don't know, right? Surely, there is someone in this bathroom with me, playing a trick. Someone I might see out and about and think "dang, she should do something about that and rethink those pants.." I don't know how else to describe it, and maybe it's better I don't give a detailed description...but in a word or two, it simply looked like it had given up. Perhaps gravity played a factor as the once shapely area of my body had taken a dive and deflated. It sounds superficial, but I had a mini nervous breakdown. I changed into something else (20 outfits and needless to say a longer shirt) and we went on our way.
That was my moment of truth. My subconscious gave me a lecture.."T, you're in your 30's now, it's not going to be like it was 10 years ago where I could skip a meal, lose 10 pounds and call it good." I'd never had a weight problem...but more than just the weight, I'd never been unhealthy.
I started a workout called Slim in 6. "6" means weeks...(I was hoping that meant minutes, heck, I'd settle for 6 days!!) But no, it meant weeks...6 long, excruciating weeks. It's a series of workouts that start out at 24 minutes and then get longer as you progress. I fondly called it "Slim in kill me now"...(and a few other colorful phrases on bad days..)
But I stuck with it... I used muscles I didn't know I had, and (after many "Lord help me's", "God give me strength" and "Travis shoot me now") I welcomed back the ones I had been missing. Before long, I mastered the program..It became easy. I lost weight. Lots of it. More than that, I became healthier.
And so it was time....
Time to check that rear-view mirror,. It had been 6 months. I said a silent prayer (Something like "Dear God, please!!!"). Lo and Behold there it was...in all it's glory... hahaha, okay... no, not really...but definitely improved!!
It had all started out as a mission in vanity. I wanted to look better.. and yeah, I guess I wanted to feel better...but I was focused on what I looked like. What I got was so much more...
We were all walking to the beach one afternoon and my kids (14 and 11) were running ahead... I said "Hey wait up!!" and I burst into a run.. A RUN!! I was shocked. It was EASY! I wasn't tired, it didn't hurt and the look on Abby and Tyler's face was priceless like "NO WAY"
Nothing is better than being able to run and play with them and not get tired.. not bend over and gasp for air after a few yards...I had no idea when I started that I would gain anything!! I gained so many more rewards for being in shape than just looking great in my jeans... I'm living now, not just biding my time waiting to get older. I'm living. I changed. Not just the shape of my body, my entire outlook on life. Thank God.
Life is so good. I'm blessed beyond belief. And yes... I'm loving the view....... from all sides.
Live well, my lovelies.
Love, T♥
10.13.2010
Music, Music, Music
It's constant in my life. I sing it, I listen to it, I write it, I love it. Constantly. I'm in the car and I'm thinking of the lyrics of my favorite songs currently, songs I've written, songs I've half-written (so many of those) new songs... old songs. Music. It's a time machine. It is possible to be transported through time in an instant.. the second you hear the familiar notes to your once favorite song. You remember exactly where you were when you might have heard it. This happens to me on a regular basis. I love that feeling that comes from somewhere in the pit of your stomach, the one that jolts you when a song starts playing that you haven't heard in awhile. Or when a song has been put together in such a way that it can draw emotion right out of you. Examples: Motley Crue, Without You- Jr High Halloween Dance. I'm wearing a black cat costume (really just a black mini skirt, shirt, and ears and a tail - Halloween is every Jr High girl's excuse to dress inappropriately right??!) I'm dancing with Jeremy Sterkel. I wonder whatever happened to him? haha.. Okay.. Anything by Def Leppard and I'm in Jr High/High School again..seriously, you know you can't turn on Pour Some Sugar on Me and not remember where you were!! Wreckz N Effect..Rob Bass..Snoop!!! Fast forward....Return Of the Mack...- My bachelorette party... Sometimes songs can be painful.. Avril Lavigne - I'm with You. Sometimes nostalgic - Boston -More Than a Feeling. See what I mean? I bet you all have songs like that... the ones that are so connected to a time in your life that when you listen to them you are sucked back to that time or place. Wasn't it Dick Clark who said "Music is the soundtrack of our lives"? He was right.
I have a friend, he's an older gentleman, that I see probably once a week or so around town. We couldn't be more opposite, which is probably why he's so dear to me. He lost his wife a couple years ago, she was his best friend in the world. We got to talking once and the subject of music came up. He said "I don't listen to music, I don't like it, it's boring". I was astonished! "Why?" I asked, shocked. He went on to say that today's music is crap so why bother... I said "Well what about other music!?" He said "I used to like it, but, well..." He kind of trailed off. I suppose it's because it all reminds him of his wife. And any song that was a favorite, is connected to her. Since they were married for over 50 years... I can see his point. The soundtrack of his life...
Music is more than an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions through the elements of rhythm, melody and harmony It's a creative outlet. It's a therapist. It's your best friend when you feel alone. A jukebox is a scrapbook, the covers inside are the pictures. And somewhere in the middle of all of it is you. What songs play on your soundtrack? See you soon... Love T♥
I have a friend, he's an older gentleman, that I see probably once a week or so around town. We couldn't be more opposite, which is probably why he's so dear to me. He lost his wife a couple years ago, she was his best friend in the world. We got to talking once and the subject of music came up. He said "I don't listen to music, I don't like it, it's boring". I was astonished! "Why?" I asked, shocked. He went on to say that today's music is crap so why bother... I said "Well what about other music!?" He said "I used to like it, but, well..." He kind of trailed off. I suppose it's because it all reminds him of his wife. And any song that was a favorite, is connected to her. Since they were married for over 50 years... I can see his point. The soundtrack of his life...
Music is more than an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions through the elements of rhythm, melody and harmony It's a creative outlet. It's a therapist. It's your best friend when you feel alone. A jukebox is a scrapbook, the covers inside are the pictures. And somewhere in the middle of all of it is you. What songs play on your soundtrack? See you soon... Love T♥
10.12.2010
Signs are for reading....
For those of you that have the same duty of dropping your kids off at school each morning, I know you will relate to this. Each morning around 7:45am I drive to the school, take my turn in line in the circular drive way/parking lot, and send my child off to the wonderland of 6th grade. Each morning the same thing happens. There is always that one person.. the one who doesn't pay attention to the signs all around them.
This circular driveway parking lot in front of the school is my daily test of patience. Who would have thought that in all the things that could happen in a day, this certain area of pavement decorated with white lines could be my enemy... I suppose it's not fair to blame the parking lot, but rather the people in the cars that line it every day. Why do you ask? Well, let me tell you. There is a sign right as you enter that says.. (anyone? Anyone know what it says?).. it says "Please pull all the way forward before stopping". It says this, because if you don't, you create a long serpentine of vehicles that can't move around you. They must wait. The entrance is narrow, and if you turn juusssst right, you can maybe squeeze past but only in...well.. a Smart Car. So each morning I pull up and just as I think it may be avoided and everyone will read the signs, and we'll all drive happily into the sunrise.. it happens. The flow of traffic STOPS! Out jumps that oblivious parent, to not only drop their child off, but get out and escort them the, oh I don't know, 5 feet to the front door of the school. The dance of the serpentine begins as each new car pulls up and we create a line a mile long. Not only has this parent not read the street sign..but not read the clear sign that they are holding up traffic.
Today, as I sat there, grumbling to myself I wondered what all the other cars were thinking. Were some of them mad and yelling? Were others just as oblivious because they had other things on their minds? Were some grumbling just like me or simply laughing at the sheer irony of the "please pull all the way forward" sign?
I could stay mad, I could get "circular driveway parking lot rage" and lash out but what good would that do? Instead, I began to laugh. I realized that I too, need to pay attention and read the signs. My sign for today? Clear as the morning bell before school...Patience is a virtue.
Take your time today... Love -T♥
Take your time today... Love -T♥
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