Frivolous or necessary.... want or need

Over the weekend, the couch and love seat I had been borrowing went back to their real owners and I was left with my own couch, which I'd never liked. I had it moved back into my living room, sat on it, and gagged (inside). Yuck. Uncomfortable. The ones I'd been borrowing were yummy, wide, soft and Friday-night-sleepable. Get a soft yummy blanket, settle in after a long week, and you could take a good nap. Okay, it would be less than fun to wake up and have to go upstairs to bed, but I did it many a Friday night. It felt that good.
So Saturday afternoon, I skeedaddled off to the local furniture store to look around. I felt like Goldilocks. I sat on any couch that might be appropriate. But they were too hard, or stiff, or catch me wrong, or have "lazy-boy" chairs involved..those hurt my legs when closing the footrest part, so "no thanks" to pain! Where was the replica of what had been taken from my house that morning?
In the middle of my search, I found a beautiful yellow flowered couch but it was SO beautiful, I felt it wasn't worthy of my interest. It was too expensive. It was too pretty. Isn't a couch supposed to blend in? All the other couches I'd sat on were varying shades of browngreengray or some such indescribable color. This stood out. I moved on and tried EVERY couch that might remotely be comfy. As I walked back through the store (with a very patient saleslady) I re-sat on a few. Then the price would be higher than I'd want. I wasn't sold on any of them, but was trying to "make do" with something! I didn't want to continue to sit on what was currently holding a spot in my living room. We got back to the yellow, blue, green happy couch. I sat on it and it felt perfect. I LOVED how it looked and how it made me feel. It was wider than some, though not as wide as what I'd been borrowing. It fit me. H-m-m-m....But it was so pretty. When the saleslady said it was a "happy" couch or a "fun" couch, I was struck. I'm into fun and happy! I wanted this couch. (Plus the price wasn't as bad now that I'd found out what stuff costs out there.) Hey, might as well take the ottoman, too. Go for double fun!!
That was the first time I'd ever purchased something that big by myself. It was scary, but also exhilerating. Once I made the decision, I decided to get rid of the matching chair/ottoman that never have appealed to me anyway and ditch the entertainment center. Might as well. I'm discovering what I like and what I want in my home. And it feels mighty good.

Drum line competition

Drum lines are a relatively new interest of mine. I've always liked drumming, but only in the past few years have I learned about drum lines after hearing/seeing one up close and personal at church during a Christmas service. I wanted them to perform for my birthday but I guess that's out of the question! Anyway, today I went to experience my first drum line competition.
First the processing in impressed me. I know, I'm easy, but it was very enjoyable to me. Then when they played...yikes! Xylophones, and drums, and cymbals and a lone trumpet. What's not to like?? Even the judging was interesting..the guys said more about the playing than I would have ever thought about! I can't remember a single phrase they used, but it was new and fun and enlarged my world.
I don't have the time to recount my thoughts on the way home, but deciding to take a trip to Hawaii was the end result. LOL The thinking involved the judges, the kids, a video and report of a famous violinist, playing with heart, putting yourself really into it, discipline, liking who I am becoming, doing new things, going to Hawaii. Isn't it fun to have brains that skitter along the lines of our minds and come up with a fabulous surprise?!

Labor Day...wants vs. needs or "I hate to sweat"

There, now you know...I hate to sweat. I know it's a normal body function, trying to make me cool, but I hate it. All it does is make me wet. And I don't like to be wet... except in the ocean, or lake, or shower. Not outdoors when I'm doing work. Not after I've already showered. Not when I'm putting my "wants" to the side and doing a "need". Now I'm cranky. I'm irritated. I'm sick of living along. Not really sick of it, just annoyed that I have to do stuff around the outside of the house. I don't like yard work. But I also don't like walking out to the mailbox and getting covered by a spider's web. So that means, I needed to cut back the flowerless hibiscus. Now I showed them. I cut them way back. First no flowers, now no leaves! I'd haul them out of the ground today but that would require more sweating and I'm not in the mood.
Let's retrace my thinking...I wanted to drive to the beach today to look for sea glass or any other treasures. I'd printed the directions, gathered my necessities, just needed to go! But I'd also allowed myself to sleep in, so by the time I was ready to go, I decided I'd just as soon stay here and work on a sea glass project, rather than drive all that way and perhaps not find any treasures. My project is something for my classroom. All planned, just not started, and hence, not finished. But for some reason that little ugly nagging voice in my head, said, "Why don't you just trim back those two hibiscus plants?" and I figured it would be a small job and it wasn't too hot, so I could do it.Wrong.
Once I've cooled off, I'll do the project and change my mood, I'm sure. On holidays, I think I'll only do my wants. No needs. Those will be for other days.
Okay, I've learned another lesson, today. For me, in my reconstruction project, I'm going to do wants only on holidays.
No more labor for me today. I'm now smiling and I thank you for listening. You've been an immense help.
Happy Want Day!

Getting a Permit

For many construction jobs, there are several permits to acquire. Someone in authority has to okay, or check, your work. Is it up to the local or national standards?

Well, in my construction job, I need a permit to do/say/let loose/let go/spit out/cleanse or walk away from, and a close relative gave it to me today. She said, "I give you permission." As powerful as any permit in my book!

Do any of you remember the show Designing Women and the one episode where Mary Jo tells the audience of a public access show that a particular man was a bum, scum, and someone to run away from? Once he "got" the girl, he then would drop her for no apparent reason. There was a "support group" for the women who'd been dumped by this guy. Mary Jo warned all the listeners to run from guys like this and she even showed his picture.

Well, I have my own public service announcement. Remove yourself from the company of toxic individuals. Don't let them share your air. They may come in the form of negative people or selfish people; sarcastic or just plain irritating; perverted or devoid of moral fiber. They may try to offer bits of humor or something redeemable once in a while, but if you are recognizing that the cost (of being around them) is too high, run away. If they take too much energy and give you nothing, they are toxic. Get away. If it feels as if your skin is being burned off and you have only one arm left and that's not enough to defend yourself, get away. If you spend lots of energy making their world smooth so that they don't get upset, stop. It's an abyss.

Get away. Let go. Move away. Build your own boundaries to keep these bogey men out. Trust me they are scary because they don't look scary! They may be handsome, gregarious, charming (at first), personable, come from respectable families, but they have secrets that their families don't even know about. Do you tell the families? Would they even believe you? What would be the point? Vindication on your part? Not sure...but I have a story to tell to the nation.

Stay tuned.

That's all for today, folks.

"I don't like spiders and snakes" (who sings that?)

It's Saturday and I seem to have time to think and process and acknowledge and sift through and come to some conclusions by Saturday. I used to get up early and feel excited by Saturdays. Now I appreciate the opportunity to mellow on a Saturday...let the week soak in. Be. Don't worry about doing. Delicous.
In lieu of my construction process, today I have some bullet items that I've learned this week. Not without some mistakes, mind you, but learned all the same.
*Don't be friends with a snake.
(Remember the Garden of Eden )
*Pray before ANY decision, no matter how "good" it seems at the time.
(I'm way too trusting and needy for something...can't figure that out exactly.)
*Don't offer any info to the snake.
*Snakebites have venom.
*I'm too precious to be connected to something slithery and cold and lowdown.

a tractor among the motorcycles

I was driving in the country yesterday and in front of an ice house, I saw a row of motorcycles and one tractor. It cracked me up! Someone parked his tractor at the ice house??
Today I feel like that. I just don't fit in with the vision of myself. I knew when I got done teaching I was glad to be "myself" and not my teaching persona, but a week into the vacation, and I've not found "my place" yet. I know it all is under the change that comes with a divorce, but I wasn't prepared for that "I don't know who I am" again. I had that at first for several months into the separation, but I'd thought I was all "set" but I can tell now I'm not. I'm like jello..still jiggly and not "set". That's OK, now that I understand what's going on. It unnerved me for the last few days but today I figured out what's happening.
Whew...I'm just a tractor surrounded by motorcycles. I may always be different, and that's ok, but I may just be in transition. This is my journey and I'm learning as I go.

Summertime....and the livin' is easy.....

"Summertime, summertime, sum- sum- summertime" is a song from years back. The time frame holds rich possibilities for me. Each day is a gift that I've longed for and looked forward to and had to wait for. I feel free. What will I do with each day? I'm filled with hope and joy.
Friday when I turned in my keys I had no idea that at that moment, I would feel free. A weight lifted from my shoulders. Later that afternoon, when I walked across my street to the mailbox, I felt different than I had for most of this year. I realized I was "Cynthia" again and not Mrs. (last name) for a parcel of time and I liked that. I've missed her. I've had to take on a different persona being a teacher full time and I'm ready to reclaim me.
I read the paper from front to back today looking for, and thinking about, "what's out there that I'd like to do/see/experience"? I looked through the movies, but I don't want to be inside. I'll want to visit some beaches on weekends; places I've never gone to. Someone wrote about a "grateful" journal. Someone else wrote about adventures and what they feel like. I want to push my boundries and have some adventures of my own. Of course, going to Rome with Mamma and my two sisters will fall under that category bigtime!
I had my granddaughter over last night for our first "sleepover". It was fun and this morning with her hair hanging down to her chin, totally covering her face, and mine spiked up every whichway, I just laughed at the sight we made!
I want to do something new each day and that will take some thought. Of course, today I stayed in my jammies all day and that didn't take any planning, but I think I'll drive somewhere before I call it a day. I want to get outdoors every single day.
Today was delicious and totally enjoyed. Reading the paper on the day it came was a treat! Watching movies was just delightful. No plans to write tonight. Yippeeeeee. Teaching produces things always hanging over you. It's such a relief to be out from under that pressure. My neck aches need a reprieve.
So that's about it for today. I hope to write regularly and I'm glad I have my time back.
In the good ole summertime....

Coming to the end

In a month I will no longer go to work each day. My fifth graders will be gone. They will be looking towards junior high and I will be sleeping late and breathing in summer, but right now I am sad. I don't want to lose them. I've worked very hard this year and they have inched their way into my heart. This week has been a turning point. I can see the end coming and I'm realizing that with all the difficulties I have had with some of them, I can also see growth and I am proud of that for them. I am proud of the time and energy I have invested in them. I am proud of the way they have "turned out". We've worked hard together and I'm seeing the fruits of our labor and now that we know how to work with each other, I don't want to let that go, only to get another group next year who know nothing about how to work with me, nor how I should work with them. Plus they are going to be third graders. They're going to seem like "babies" to me and I'll have to start all over again. (moan and sigh....)
Who'll fix my computer? Who'll find anything/everything I lose or misplace? Who'll see things to be done and do them? Who'll offer to do this or that and handle in on their own, 'cause they are old enough to know how to do lots of things? It wigs me out. Mentally I am already making notes about how to train the next class.
I know this is purely selfish and I certainly want my students to go to their next step, but I'm honestly going to miss them. It's been a good year and I'm getting all mushy....

Thank you, Lord, for this group. Please help them move on and help me to let go. Ends are also chances for new beginnings...

Field day/Feel Day

Wednesday was Field Day at my school. I will mention that I'm the most "senior" person (and I don't mean the length of time I've been teaching at this school!!) on my 6-woman team and we were told that there would be events for the teachers. First of our events was "hoppity ball", which is one of those big balls with a handle attached. "LEAN forward" we were told by the PE coach, "otherwise you'll fall backward". How hard could this be...bounce to the line. Seemed like something fun. The whistle blew and I was the slowest one off the line because it was hard to bounce this body up in the air plus go forward at the same time! Okay, I wouldn't win. But then I fell off! Okay, I wasn't going to finish either. I brushed myself off and tried to preserve my dignity as I realized falling in the dirt and soiling my clothes wasn't my idea of a good time nor were my 5th graders very impressed. The kids had more activities so they didn't dwell on my poor perfomance.

The next event for staff was the "waddle ball". We were to place a playground ball between our knees and waddle to the finish line. I could do this and I did...even came in second. I was pumped!! (My competetive genes have been v-e-r-y slow to develop, but they are in full force now!) Kids were proud and we were having a great time.

By the end of their festivities, the PE coach stood on a chair and told them to go in the gym for the final event..the teachers' obstacle course. Once a hundred and fifty kids were in the gym lining the walls, the 6 of us lined up and listened to the coach's instructions. As I've mentioned earlier, I "out age" these women by 20 to 30 years, and I didn't want to be the last one to finish. When the whistle blew, I ran to the hula hoops, grabbed one, swiveled my hips and sang "Happy Birthday"! (My own children know how much I used to enjoy the hula hoop....but by now I need one with a bigger circumference!) I finished that with only one drop of the hoop and ran to the "toss the rubber chicken into the plastic pail" event. Tougher than it looked, but after 4-5 shots, I succeeded! On to the bowling and I was catching up! Knocked the ten pins down and then grabbed a balloon and ran to a chair to burst it under my buttinski. I jump when balloons break, so this is not a fun thing for me, but I smooshed that thing and was the first to cross the balance beam. In my mind, I was going to be the winner, and I was really psyched! The last event was to sink a basketball, and by now, I was sucking wind and trying to beat my 25-year old partner, but no such luck. She sunk one and by now I was shooting underhanded, but I kept at it till I was a winner, just not the winner. She and I both collapsed on the floor and were very proud of ourselves...till we looked over and a teammate was on the floor in the middle of the gym needing the nurse's attention and later we found out breathing problems claimed another.

I was sorry two of my friends were suffering, but I was pleased it wasn't me, for the sheer fact I feel (and am) so much older than they are. As I got closer to my class, they were actually smiling and trying to high five me! I felt great!

Once we got back to class, the kids started talking about how I fell on the hoppity thing, but then I'd improved on the waddle ball and finally I'd done well to get second on the obstacle course! I was enjoying the moment and their satisfaction with my performance.

We got back to work and the class was working on math when I had to use the restroom. I returned and was sitting at my desk helping a student, when another student came up and got in close to me and I thought "what is she doing?" (She generally hugs me every day but at the end of the day..not in the middle.) I was about to say, "Step back, you're in my space," when I realized she was trying to whisper something to me. I don't hear out of my left ear so turned my head for her to speak into my right ear, when I caught the words, "You have toilet paper sticking out of your pants." I thanked her and reached around back to "take care of things" and all the while mortified!! Oh my gracious! Casually I left the room and fixed the problem and returned with no one else the wiser. Now I do need to mention that I have another student who had just that morning made fun of my basketball skills (or lack thereof) and seems to criticize me to her friends as well as to the other teacher, so I was quite thankful she hadn't seen my "tail". I did have a good laugh later on and it certainly made for a good story in the teacher's lunch room.

My Field Day '09 memories will be good ones and I hope I will always enjoy a good laugh on me!

Victory

Today I am thinking about fun and how it lifts our spirits and outlooks and other unidentifiable parts of our lives. Friday night I had some new friends over and we played games. The games were fun but it was the laughter and ways people have of interacting that meant the most to me. Scattergories and Dominoes were our games of choice but they were just the vehicles used to allow us to laugh and poke fun and enjoy the company of others. We're all newly divorced and working on our own personal journeys, so we made plans to get together for a game night. At 7:30 three of us were tentatively trying to get the evening rolling and I was thinking "oh, please, someone else come so this isn't so awkward with just three of us." We decided to start a game, anyway, and within 5-10 minutes, two more arrived and the evening rolled along much more smoothly after that.
We played Scattergories which has a hideous timer which adds to the game..or takes away, for some people! We laughed and complained and were a little awkward about appearing dull, or just not clever enough to play the game, but after a few turns the awkwardness seemed to melt away. After a bit, we decided to stop that game, or actually the listening to the wretched timer, and we stood around the bar to get refills on food. It was then the conversations became a little more real as one or another shared a concern of his, or her, new and definitely unfamiliar journey. The give and take and realization that "whew, I'm not alone" helped to propell each of us a little further into this unknown territory with a bit more confidence.
We decided to play Dominoes and as that game progressed, the kidding and joking just continued till we were laughing at ourselves as well as each other. It flew by till someone asked about the time and we realized it was "the next day" and we were flabbergasted! Who knew a bunch of 30-ish to 60-ish year olds could have such a fun evening the first time we got together?
The next day was when I felt the victory. It felt more than fun. It felt like another corner had been turned. I had found a way to have fun, a way to add joy to my life, and a way to connect with others and make new friends. I wasn't alone. I "had a life" like we always assume others have. I know that's not always the truth in others' lives, but for me it spoke
volumes and seemed like an important victory. I'm on my way and it feels really comfortable.

PS

Since my last post I have thought of some other things I want to discard:
1. Parents who chew me out, sling accusations at me and then hang up!
2. Crying at school (by me)
3. TAKS tests

That's about it for now. I just wanted to get that off my chest.

discard this!

My last post was about wondering what I could discard to make my life more workable. Well, yesterday morning I woke up to sunshine in my room. My alarm was set for 4:50 A.M. but apparently I had turned it off in my sleep and now the clock read 6:50!! Up I jumped and wondered what not to do since I usually use all of the two and a half hours to get ready for work. I skipped the shower and hair-washing and got dressed in jeans and a school-appropriate t-shirt and did my face and hair and went down to eat breakfast standing up. No hot tea, just some cold water along with the usual yogurt and banana. Back up to brush my teeth, quickly added some lipstick and out the door by 7:38! I had to give up a jeans coupon to my administrator, but other than the kids asking if I'd cut my hair (when it's been slept on it's rather flat and no amount of curling iron magic can transform it) no one was the wiser.
Today I apparently did the same "turning-off-the-alarm-in-my-sleep" for it was 6:55 when my eyes decided to open! Ouch. I couldn't go another day without a shampoo and shower, so I opted for those and gave up the breakfast, which I ate at my desk. Kids didn't mind my banana and never even asked me why.
I've now decided that if I can get ready for work in 40 minutes, what have I been getting up so early for???
For right now, I'm discarding the time spent on TV news/weather, morning email answering, hot tea, sitting down for breakfast, starting the laundry, and see how my day goes.
I'll let you know how getting more sleep feels...z-z-z-z

The discard pile

This morning I was at school working with a variety of fifth graders who were preparing for the upcoming state-mandated science test. To get students to learn from a different method, a couple of teachers prepared science games which would reinforce the needed objectives, but the students wouldn't really feel as if they were "studying". I introduced a game about the forms of energy...solar, heat, light, sound, and so on. As the directions were explained, I told them there would be a discard pile. Apparently many were not familiar with the discard pile, which I know to be part of many other games. I found that surprising, but this whole year has shown me the limited experiences of many of my students! Anyway, they finally (partially) got the hang of the use of the discard pile and proceeded to play the game. In this game, you could retrieve cards that someone else discarded and use for your turn, if you so desired.
On the way home, I was reflecting on the morning's activities and was mulling over the fact that so many of the students had had no clue how to utilize the discard pile. They didn't understand the concept of putting a card in the discard pile; let alone the part about using the cards later on. Even knowing that to win they needed to have no cards in their hands didn't seem to impress on them the need to discard. All of a sudden, I saw the need to start my own discard pile! As I write this, I realize that to NOT discard, means to hold on. Am I holding on to unnecessary "cards"? To let go, means to trust or even to be free. That can be exciting or scary, depending on the mindset.
To discard, implies letting go and/or throwing away. Verb synonyms include cast, shed, slough, scrap and junk. "To shed and slough imply a throwing off of something both useless and encumbering and often suggest a consequent renewal of vitality or luster." Does that seem inviting? Absolutely! I want the "renewal of vitality and luster" in my life! To achieve that, I must discard something or some things.
In my construction project, I want to build something worthy and strong and fun and absolutely useful. To do that, I will need to discard some faulty wiring (faulty thoughts), some unnecessary rooms (which might house bad habits or old hurts), and perhaps some landscaping that's just not growing anymore (or someone who's just not supporting me or my building project with uplifting words or deeds). Huh.
This requires prayer, thoughtful consideration, and a clearer vision of my needs and wants. It may take some time, but I'm determined to discard "something useless and encumbering" so to "renew" the vitality and luster of my life. It continues to uplift and surprise me how God uses the ordinary experiences of our lives to teach us. To work on a Saturday was definitely NOT my choice, but look what He did with my obedience today!

bocce ball and board games

When I was a lass, I grew up in a home with Sunday rules. After church, we stayed inside, didn't have friends over, wouldn't even think of going to the movies or out shopping (the stores weren't open on Sundays when I was a girl anyway) and pretty much rested and had a quiet day. No game playing either, though I think the rule was "no keeping score" so that pretty much nixed my brother's and my playing anything. Who wants to play and not keep score?? I actually liked our house rules. It kept Sundays different and I was just fine being "different" from my friends, though I translated that to being superior. Not a good thing to admit even now, but that was my take on the matter.
When I became a mother I tried to keep our Sundays different and to some extent, I did. I wouldn't take the kids shopping or to the movies, but I didn't make a big deal about playing games. I didn't really know what was important to me, versus what was important to the family I came from. It was a transition time for me.
Now that I'm a grandmother and cherish any family get-together, we do play lots of games, and on Sundays as well. There are five adults and one child (who's still too young to play anything). The adults got out a couple of board games after Easter dinner and played a game where my son-in-law had a challenge and chose to have glasses and beard drawn on his face for the rest of the game. We laughed and laughed over that one! After the lawn dried out from the storm earlier in the day, we got out my new bocce ball game and gave it a whirl. The baby sat on a towel in the shade and enjoyed our laughter as well as the fresh air.
After the game, my son found his juggling pins in the garage and gave his wife and me a lesson on juggling. She and I tried, but we laughed more than we caught any pins! Anyway, when my son left he told me he'd had a wonderful day and specifically mentioned the bocce game. I realized then it's not the "rules" that make Sundays different. It's the time we spend together as family. It's the memories we're making and that works well with my "construction" project.
I plan to make plenty of memories with my kids and grandkids. They are extremely important to me and I want them to remember what we can/did do and not what we can't/didn't do.

Here comes Peter Cottontail...

..Hopping down the bunny trail, Hippety hoppity, Easter's on its way... For me Easter is definitely about the celebration of Jesus' resurrection, but for this post, I want to remember some Easters from my memory. For me, the best part of any new outfit was always the shoes...earliest memories are of the black patent leather ones...oh, the sole was shiny and black and I liked that just as much as the top that was seriously shiny! I'd get a new pair every year (at least in my mind) and they were from Standard Shoe Company on Main St. in Bangor. We'd have to go upstairs, and it was such a fun store. Seem's like there was a sort of tiny merry-go-round that we played on. Later on in tenth grade I had a pair of candy apple red patent leather heels that matched my delight from the days of black patent leather little girl shoes.
Mamma would make my dresses but I don't have any memories of a particular dress except the year when I was in junior high and she made my sister and me matching balloon dresses. I think they were light blue on the bottom and dark blue on top. Of course I'd wear a hat each year, too. The ones I remember are from junior high on...a brown feathered one that was on a headband and the feathers came down lower on one side of my face. There was a yucky beige straw pillbox with a dark brown veil. One was just a veil and perhaps a flower on top of my head. I'm laughing over that one...but I did like it at the time. I'd have big hats some years and small hats others...can't recall when I stopped wearing them.
In high school our church had an Easter sunrise service (which meant standing in snow some years!) and then we'd go back to the church for blueberry pancakes and then home to shower and get ready for "real" church and back we'd go in our finery. Daddy would buy us corsages each year and that made me feel very special. Other people wore flowers but it still was very special for me. I think Nanna Farrington had provided them when we were little and Daddy picked up the tradition once we moved away.
Nanna also gave us a wrapped gift to find for our Easter treat. One year I opened a dress. Aunt Shirley gave us chocolate Easter bunnies...THE best gift of all!!!! The year she got married I was almost ten and that next Easter the bunnies were no longer there. What?? My brother, David, and I assumed it was Uncle Charlie's fault. Of course we didn't tell anyone our idea (or of our dissapointment) until years later and poor Uncle Charlie had had NO idea about the bunnies before his arrival into our family. My aunt said she had just figured we were too old and didn't want them anymore. What's not to want??? A big bunny of chocolate?? Yes, we wanted them!! We had a good laugh.
My first pair of heels were for Easter in seventh grade. Black patent leather, of course! Our church had the sanctuary upstairs and I was SO proud of those shoes. I probably tried to float down the stairs after church, but I caught a heel and fell. Harold Wheeler, a local radio personality, came over and helped me up. All that was hurt was my pride.
That year I got to wear lipstick for the first time, too. Nylons were worn for 6th grade Easter for the first time. I had no idea till today how many things were allowed that first time on an Easter Sunday. Spring and new beginnings, I guess.
Well, thank you for walking down my memory lane. Hope you have a blessed Easter and that God's love for you will warm your heart and home.

Joy

"I have a joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart," is a song I sang as a child and it hits the spot today. It's Easter weekend and boy, am I filled with joy! Joy in my Lord. Joy in my heart. Joy in my circumstances. Those who know me might be wondering..."joy" in your circumstances? That's right. I am a joy-filled person today because of my circumstances.
Last Easter Sunday was a kalaidescope of feelings and situations. (Good Friday and that Saturday were both tsunamis of epic proportions that threatened to obliterate my life and all I held dear.) Church on Easter was precious and tender with my son and daughter-in-law by my side. I shed some tears but not many. Dinner was full of surprises and laughter. Afternoon was a time of questions and answers and truths and honest talk. Like a sunrise, each thought opening up to another and beaming a tiny bit stronger, I came to some conclusions and by evening, I was filled with action. In that one day of Easter, 2008, I was a changed woman. I turned a corner and never looked back.
In one year, I have let my light shine a little brighter. I am not hiding it under a bushel, no! I am stronger, yet more tender-hearted; alone, but not lonely; forgiving, but also forgiven. I have been able to "let go" (of hurts). I have been able to "take back" (my own happiness). I have been able to be more tender towards others whom I may (ok, would have) ignored. I have been able to be a model (to my children). I have exposed myself (in emotional areas). I have wrestled with words and feelings and hurts and questions and more feelings and partially cleaned out the dark areas of my heart. I have spoken freely. I have spoken boldly. I have listened to what was said, as well as what wasn't said. I have stopped speaking at times. I have stopped listening at other times. I have offered apologies. I have received apologies.
I have prayed and cried and listened and laughed and spilt out my fears to my Heavenly Father. I have talked outloud to Him. I have talked privately to Him. I have worshipped and loved and read of Him. I have declared my desire to be all He thought of when He created me. I have thanked Him. I have been awed by Him. I have felt loved by Him. I have been quieted by Him.
I am honored to be where I am, and who I am, today. I wouldn't trade the last year for anything, not even to have stayed where I was.
You see, I have the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,
Down in my heart, down in my heart
I have the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,
Way down in my heart to stay!
Have a Joy-filled Easter!

Change, changes, changing

What do you think of when you hear the word "change"? "Change the lightbulb" is not bad. "Change the baby" isn't great, but I can handle it. To change my shoes generally means to put on something more comfortble and that feels real good. But generally to me, change starts a negative thought process. What if I can't do what the other person wants or needs? What if I just don't know how to do it? What's wrong with the way I'm doing something now? Why do I have to change? I don't want to change.
That's the crux for me. I don't want to change. I may not even like how I'm doing something but it's familarity is comfortable. This week I was asked to consider changing grade levels next year. My first thought was "I've changed so much this year, I'd like to just cruise a bit on a comfortable/familiar route next year." (or something along that thought) Later I thought about the changes I have made this year and realized I do like the energy that comes from changing and the success I feel afterward. I also recognized that others sometimes see gifts in us that could be utilized in a different arena and I should trust that observation.
I've said "yes" to the new grade level. That implies packing up my teacher "stuff" and moving it to a new room. It implies getting to know new teammates. It implies getting more training. It implies learning how to plan for a new grade and all kinds of things I haven't even thought of. It means change. Period.
As I actually think about the changes I've experienced this year, I have enjoyed many good ones. Changing the alarm code gave me security. Changing my phone service to allow caller ID was freeing and absolutely a great thing to do! Changing my work status gave me earning power. Changing into a Nanna was just delicious and I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on that, that's for sure!
So as I wrap this up, I want to embrace change and not fear it. I want to look at it as opportunity for growth and exhileration and not mild panic. I want to be free to change.

Please help me, Lord.

Holding on to scraps

Do you ever have those days when you have big, serious things to do, but all of a sudden you get the urge to clean out the junk drawer in the kitchen? Or you decide to neaten up your shoes in the closet? Or in my case, neaten up the box that holds my wrapping paper and ribbon. Earlier in the week I'd gathered up the "needing-to-be-ironed" clothes from the closet floor and actually hung them up to be ironed at a later time. Maybe that would ease my problem. I actually love to iron (and watch a movie at the same time), but for some reason, I put it off and then the clothes multiply and divide and I get overwhelmed and only iron as I need it in the morning! So once the clothes were picked up, I organized the shoes which were laying about and I was feeling really good. I like order with my clothes. Then with those two jobs done, the floor of my closet was clean and I was feeling satisfied. By the next day, as I went to wrap a gift, I decided to attack the "wrapping stuff" box. Let's just dump it all out, now that I had a completely clean closet floor. First I decided to separate the different componants of said box, making piles of tissue paper, and gift bags, and cloth bags (that my sister makes and are the best way to cover a gift), and ribbon, and small boxes and the spools of tulle. Love to wrap with tulle...turns a plain gift onto a snazzy, ooh-la-la gift! Anyway, as I was separating (and actually seeing) what was in the box, I became aware of two or three plastic-wrapped selections of actual folded sheets of wrapping paper. You know the stuff that we used when giving a gift? The stuff we don't use any more since a handful of tissue paper and gift bag can be so easy AND look so special, why bother measuring, cutting, wrapping, taping, and be-ribboning? But you see, I still had the folded paper....in a pattern I've never liked so why did I think I was going to suddenly like it and actually use it? In fact, I also found scraps of paper maybe 3 inches by 9 inches, as well as some long left over pieces which were maybe 5 inches by 3 feet! Oh that's a common size I might need...never! I then discovered gift bags for "dad". No need for those now. I found small spools of ribbon I hadn't used in say, fifteen years. I found odd scraps of ribbon and cord which wouldn't fit around any gift I might give. I gathered up the gift bags for the man and crumpled those right up. No problem. Then I made a pile of the ribbon scraps for my daughter to use in "scrapping". Let her throw them away. But the scrids of paper...what to do? Should I toss? Give to daughter for her projects? Do I keep for a project I might do with granddaughter in about five years? What is it about scraps that make us (okay, me) want to hold onto them? The maybes, and what ifs, and possibilities seem to flood my mind. Is it my creativity or my "oh-I-just-might-need-this-one-day" that speaks to my brain? Is it the New England little verse that says something like "use it up or do without" that hinders me?
As I talked it over with my daughter, I realized the scraps were sapping my creativity. The culch around my house drains my energy. Something always needs to be sorted or put away or cleaned up or washed or dried or folded or stored. It requires attention I'd much rather give to sorting or creating (with) my seaglass! Or playing with my dear precious granddaughter. Or reading, or any number of other choices. So instead of chunking it, I am held captive. I hold onto the "what ifs". I want to let go of the paper scraps to remind me to let go of any other scraps that aren't worth MY interest. Be they "scraps" of people who no longer interest me, or scraps of paper or ribbon. I'm free to be me now. I'm free to let go of the pieces that no longer fit....
Excuse me while I run upstairs and chuck the paper and ribbon and who knows what else I'll find?!!

Stand By Me

Good morning,
I am home sick today so had the time to watch a video clip sent by a cousin. It was entitled "Stand By Me" and included musicians and singers from around the world playing and/or singing the song and it made me cry. It struck a chord in me. The clip started with a man telling us that no matter where we are or who we are, at some point, we all need someone to stand by us. I need someone, slash many someones, to stand by me. I need others. There, it's out there. I can't do it alone. I don't want to do it alone. My heart burst with joy and "bigness" this morning as I realized I want to have a fuller life, a joy-filled life, a life filled with more meaningful moments. I need to let others in. I need to let some others out! Huh, I never realized that till just now. I've tried to hold on to some that aren't worthy of me. They aren't worthy of my trust, my time, or my interest. Huh. I need to ponder that awhile.
"Thank you, Lord, for sifting and sorting my thoughts to blend in with your plan for me. Thank you for standing by me."

I hurt a friend

A very dear friend had a birthday on Friday and I didn't call, send a card or even email a greeting and she called me on it. I appreciate that she could tell me that, and I've apologized, but it has really affected me. I used to be on top of my life. I wrote out cards and bought, or made, gifts on time and was an attentive friend. I managed my home, made my bed everyday, worked part time, was a wife and a mother (to grown up kids), paid the bills, kept up with the dishes, (ok, not so well) and balanced my life, or at least I thought I did.
A year ago, my life did a huge "about face" and I haven't been "on top of my game" ever since. I no longer keep up with the kitchen, make my bed, or even eat enough (can we say "any") vegetables!! I am always trying to play "catch up" with just about every area and I don't know how to get caught up, let alone, ahead of the game.
I am now "under construction". My last name is Cameron and I subbed for 20-odd years in the local elementary schools and while my kids were in that same age category, I wanted our dinner table talk to be pleasant with no name-calling from the kids. One day I think my son said of me that I was "Cameron Construction Company, where we build people up and not tear people down." My life is now under construction. I want to build myself up and not tear myself down, but it takes more than those words. I need a blueprint and an architect and a construction company.
God is my architect. The Bible is my blueprint. I am the project manager. I have now read several of the plans. I've talked with my Architect at length. He's suggested ways to rebuild me. I'm really trying to listen and I am very optimistic. My "home" for years wasn't as solid as I thought. I put too much trust in it. I hoped I knew best how to keep my "home" from crumbling, but the foundation just wasn't there. I'm now in the process of building a new life and I want a secure foundation. It's there now.
That's as far as I am today and decided to keep a log. Join me in my construction project.