I have decided that I wouldn't make a very good newspaper reporter. Breaking news stories would be well on their way to history books before I decided exactly how I should put them down in print. You see, I really like to carry thoughts or impressions around with me for awhile like trying on a pair of shoes and walking around in them to make sure they fit well. Perhaps I should do more writing and less thinking---after all, I have been doing more thinking and less writing for a very long time. But you know what they say about old habits...
It has been more than a week since I read about Ronnie Lee Gardner's execution in the newspaper and I am just now sitting down to try and explore my feelings as I type out words that I hope will pull together to make some sense...
I had read the articles about Gardner's crimes, his sad childhood, and about his victims. There was no doubt of his guilt and plenty of evidence of the far-reaching effects of the pain and sorrow he had caused but when I read the account of his execution I found my spirit wincing and tears coming to my eyes. I think my reaction came from a sorrow for a life that had been stained and torn by bad choices and for lives senselessly and prematurely taken or negatively impacted as a result of those bad choices. There is something terribly sad about coming to a point where human beings need to be put down like rabid dogs.
As a youth I was in favor of capital punishment mainly because my parents were, then as I grew older and starting thinking more for myself I stayed in favor of capital punishment because I thought it made sense that when someone willfully and coldly takes the life of another human being that the penalty should be to give up their right to live. An eye for eye, a life for a life...I guess I still believe in capital punishment---as long as someone else carries it out---
I looked up my church's position on capital punishment and the official statement basically said that those matters are left in the hands of the law and the church does not promote or oppose capital punishment. At first, I thought wait---how can you neither promote nor oppose something? Are we not either for or against something? On further thought I decided that capital punishment is not something to promote for the same reason it was so hard to read about the details of the execution---it isn't something that fits comfortably into most views of human society. For example, I don't promote violence but I do believe sometimes it is necessary and in those certain circumstances I would be seen as not opposing violence. Is it necessity that causes a stand to be taken on some issues? Society needs to be governed by rules--laws. There needs to be a penalty for breaking those laws. Crime needs to have punishment or corruption is the order of the day.
The debate on capital punishment stirs up a number of questions. Does capital punishment deter crime? I think the answer to that question is yes. People who are capable of committing murder might only hesitate because of the possibility of getting caught and if they knew that the penalty was death I think they might hesitate long enough to change their minds. As my husband says, the death penalty definitely keeps the murderer who is executed from committing more crimes. Many people have suffered and died at the hands of repeat offenders. However, the death penalty loses its effectiveness as a deterent if it is not immediately carried out. It is absolutely necessary to prove someone's guilt beyond any reasonable doubt before they are found guilty and especially before they are condemned to die but in cases where someone has been proven to be a murderer and sentenced to die then they shouldn't sit on death row for 10, 20, 30, or even more years. Do the criminals improve their lives during that time? Do they make positive contributions? Do they make any progress toward making restitution? Perhaps they do--or maybe they spend most of their time trying to avoid dying...
Is capital punishment cruel and unusual? Is it any more cruel than having someone be on death row---awaiting a death that is often ridiculously slow in coming? I think modern day criminals are treated quite humanely prior to execution. The majority of murder victims do not get to choose their final meal or their last words, they do not get to say goodbye to friends and family, meet with a member of the clergy, and most do not get a chance to have people protest the senselessness of their death. As for methods---firing squads are more humane for those carrying out the execution because it isn't just one hand that flips the switch or gives the injection. A firing squad also seems to be a quicker execution. I really do not feel qualified to choose the most humane way for a person to die. Who is qualified?
What about a person's background? From the sounds of it Ronnie Lee Gardner was never really taught right from wrong. He was taught that bad behavior was acceptable or even desirable. I feel sorry for the boy that he was but not for the man he became. There are many people who have horrendous childhoods who do not choose to take the life of another person.
What about the possibility of people changing their ways? What is accomplished by taking the life of a murderer? It doesn't bring back his victims. The only way a criminal can really show that they have changed their ways is by being released back into society. That poses a definite risk. Has the criminal changed their life to the extent that it's worth the risk of innocent lives? I am a hopeful person. I like to believe that people can change for the better but we have to look to their actions. Can a person who has no regard for the value of human life play a positive role in society? Do we become murderers ourselves when taking the life of a murderer? In war it is us and them. We are defending our country and our people but in the eyes of our opponents we are the enemy---the murderers. Again, it is a matter of perspective. But there is a clear perspective--a right perspective--a complete perspective of the big picture. It seems when we have done wrong we believe in a God that is loving and kind. When we have been wronged we believe in a God that is just. I believe that God is love and that he is the source of all truth and justice. God's love is filled with justice and his justice filled with love. Justice and love are not separate in the eyes of God...
Capital punishment is not an easy topic. There are no easy answers. I do believe there are right answers. I am thankful that as the scriptures say, 'God and Christ are the judge of all'.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Gardens
In the past my husband and I have just barely dabbled in gardening. Even now I feel like we are just masquerading as gardeners when it comes to a vegetable garden---but this year we have taken more serious strides toward becoming genuine gardeners. I read several online articles about square foot gardening (I now have The book on square foot gardening by Mel Bartholomew--he makes gardening look so easy anyone can do it--even me) and we added some good soil and highly recommended local compost to our three grow boxes. We divided each box into 12 inch sections, my husband made some vertical trellises for the tomatoes, peas, and pumpkins, and we put up a fence to keep our wild dogs out. We were diligent in protecting our plants from a couple of unseasonable cold spells and we are faithfully watering and weeding. So far so good!
Gardening really is therapeutic. It has been said many times and in many ways but there is something about getting your hands in the dirt---planting, weeding, watering, harvesting--- that feels very human--very right--and something very much more...I have always found it satisfying on some deeper level (or perhaps higher level?)of existence to find such natural comparisons between gardening and life.
Two bare root berry bushes were on sale--one blueberry and one blackberry. We know nothing about growing berry bushes--let alone bare root berry bushes but we were buying things to plant and we could feel the beginnings of a green thumb stirring within us--so we added them to the cart and planted them with no knowledge and lots of hope. I lovingly referred to them for the first few weeks as our little stick plants. We watered them and put peat moss around them to help warm the soil during our Spring cold spell. The sturdiest looking of the two sent out a runner that looks very promising but the other little stick remained a stick. My husband didn't hold out much hope for it but I insisted on continuing to water it because it was still mostly green. Today I saw that our feeble little stick has also sent out a little runner. It is alive!
Life lesson: Don't give up on something that isn't showing immediate promise. Within a stick is the potential to become a flourishing bush that will bear delicious fruit--within an unimpressive, lowly looking human being is potential for a great productive person.
Another item in a sale bin that we knew nothing about was some shallots. Soon after I planted them, two of the three sprouted and started to grow. I watered all three but I saw no signs of the other one growing so I finally stopped watering it. Well only a couple of days after I stopped watering it the non-growing shallot sprouted! It wasn't a dud as I had started to suspect, it was just slower than the others. Why did I give up on the shallot but not the berry bush? I think part of the reason was because the berry bush stood alone. I couldn't completely compare it to the other bush because it was a different kind of bush. The shallot on the other hand was sharing the same 12 inch square of soil with others of its kind that were actually growing.
Life lesson: How helpful are comparisons? How fair are we in our expectations? How many people go without receiving life-giving things like love and attention? There are many unwatered plants of the human variety sitting in classrooms, offices, churches, and even homes.
C.S. Lewis said, It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be srongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. Who are we helping to grow and who are we leaving unwatered?
I have a problem especially in my flower garden of distinguishing desirable plants from weeds, especially when the weeds grow very close to the plants. It is definitely good and necessary to stay on top of weeds in a garden so the weeds don't take over but in the flower garden as well as the vegetable garden it is sometimes necessary to let the plants grow and mature a bit before we are able to safely and successfully pull up the weeds without pulling up the plants.
Life Lesson: We learn about the wisdom of this in the New Testament in Matthew---The parable of the wheat and the tares. The sower tells his servants to let the wheat and the tares grow up together until the time of harvest and then the tares can be removed without uprooting the wheat. Too many times I have been so worried about the 'weeds' in my children that I have been too quick to pull them out with nagging and lectures and I have harmed the delicate and growing 'wheat'. It is important to be watchful for life's weeds growing in our children do our very best to keep them from taking root but it is also important to not be so focused on weeding that we neglect our tender and patient nurturing.
Beyond a nice looking or well producing garden I want to make sure I appreciate and use what I grow.
Life Lesson: I think we need to show our children not only the miracle of a plant growing from a seed, or the benefits of hard work in keeping a garden, but we need to show them how to harvest the fruits of their labors, how to benefit from those fruits, how to share their harvest, and how to lay things up in store.
If I think too much about all of these analogies I will be even more intimidated by gardening and by life...But I will just keep pulling weeds, watering, hoping, and praying my garden to grow. Three garden boxes can yield quite the bounteous harvest of produce and life lessons.
Happy growing!
Gardening really is therapeutic. It has been said many times and in many ways but there is something about getting your hands in the dirt---planting, weeding, watering, harvesting--- that feels very human--very right--and something very much more...I have always found it satisfying on some deeper level (or perhaps higher level?)of existence to find such natural comparisons between gardening and life.
Two bare root berry bushes were on sale--one blueberry and one blackberry. We know nothing about growing berry bushes--let alone bare root berry bushes but we were buying things to plant and we could feel the beginnings of a green thumb stirring within us--so we added them to the cart and planted them with no knowledge and lots of hope. I lovingly referred to them for the first few weeks as our little stick plants. We watered them and put peat moss around them to help warm the soil during our Spring cold spell. The sturdiest looking of the two sent out a runner that looks very promising but the other little stick remained a stick. My husband didn't hold out much hope for it but I insisted on continuing to water it because it was still mostly green. Today I saw that our feeble little stick has also sent out a little runner. It is alive!
Life lesson: Don't give up on something that isn't showing immediate promise. Within a stick is the potential to become a flourishing bush that will bear delicious fruit--within an unimpressive, lowly looking human being is potential for a great productive person.
Another item in a sale bin that we knew nothing about was some shallots. Soon after I planted them, two of the three sprouted and started to grow. I watered all three but I saw no signs of the other one growing so I finally stopped watering it. Well only a couple of days after I stopped watering it the non-growing shallot sprouted! It wasn't a dud as I had started to suspect, it was just slower than the others. Why did I give up on the shallot but not the berry bush? I think part of the reason was because the berry bush stood alone. I couldn't completely compare it to the other bush because it was a different kind of bush. The shallot on the other hand was sharing the same 12 inch square of soil with others of its kind that were actually growing.
Life lesson: How helpful are comparisons? How fair are we in our expectations? How many people go without receiving life-giving things like love and attention? There are many unwatered plants of the human variety sitting in classrooms, offices, churches, and even homes.
C.S. Lewis said, It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be srongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. Who are we helping to grow and who are we leaving unwatered?
I have a problem especially in my flower garden of distinguishing desirable plants from weeds, especially when the weeds grow very close to the plants. It is definitely good and necessary to stay on top of weeds in a garden so the weeds don't take over but in the flower garden as well as the vegetable garden it is sometimes necessary to let the plants grow and mature a bit before we are able to safely and successfully pull up the weeds without pulling up the plants.
Life Lesson: We learn about the wisdom of this in the New Testament in Matthew---The parable of the wheat and the tares. The sower tells his servants to let the wheat and the tares grow up together until the time of harvest and then the tares can be removed without uprooting the wheat. Too many times I have been so worried about the 'weeds' in my children that I have been too quick to pull them out with nagging and lectures and I have harmed the delicate and growing 'wheat'. It is important to be watchful for life's weeds growing in our children do our very best to keep them from taking root but it is also important to not be so focused on weeding that we neglect our tender and patient nurturing.
Beyond a nice looking or well producing garden I want to make sure I appreciate and use what I grow.
Life Lesson: I think we need to show our children not only the miracle of a plant growing from a seed, or the benefits of hard work in keeping a garden, but we need to show them how to harvest the fruits of their labors, how to benefit from those fruits, how to share their harvest, and how to lay things up in store.
If I think too much about all of these analogies I will be even more intimidated by gardening and by life...But I will just keep pulling weeds, watering, hoping, and praying my garden to grow. Three garden boxes can yield quite the bounteous harvest of produce and life lessons.
Happy growing!
Monday, June 14, 2010
Look That Cloud Is Shaped Like A Colon
I am finally doing something tomorrow that I have put off for awhile. I am doing something that is strongly recommended for people my age---something responsible--I am going in for a colonoscopy. I think it is easy to see why such procedures keep getting pushed farther down on the old To Do list. A colonoscopy is about as much fun to look forward to as a root canal only a bit more personal. I wish the health and well being of my colon could be assessed by having me open my mouth and stick out my tongue but instead I need to be part of a weird Kodak moment. To add to my apprehension I haven't even met the doctor who will be doing the test. We should have got together for lunch first or something but I guess sometimes it's better this way. We put a lot of trust sometimes in people we don't know. Oddly enough it is usually in situations involving our precious bodies.We like to go to someone we know to get our car fixed or our hair done...
Anyway--I have been on a liquid diet today. I think it will do me good and I do need to be cleaned up for my pictures tomorrow but I really like to sink my teeth into food. I'm the kind of person who likes chunks of vegetables in my soup, pieces of candy in my ice cream or shakes, fruit in my Jello, and ice in my water. Oh well, it is only for today and besides the Miralax did give texture to my Gatorade. I still have teeth so why am I complaining?
I am going to try and be optimistic about this rite of passage (moving closer to old). Perhaps tomorrow I will write about the bright side of getting a colonoscopy---about the humor in getting a colonoscopy---just the highlights?--or maybe the next day I will write the ABCs of my aches and pains... I am just getting a glimpse of the scope (pun intended) of fun activities that come along with aging.
I am seriously thankful that I live in a day and age when we have tests that give us early detection of life-threatening problems and it is important and wise to take advantage of such positive opportunities. Another upside of living with modern technology is spellcheck and I just got a good giggle when my spellcheck highlighted colonscopy and gave cloudscape and kaleidoscope as the suggestions for correction. Oh the analogies I could draw...but I won't.
Well, gotta run..(Sorry I couldn't resist)
Anyway--I have been on a liquid diet today. I think it will do me good and I do need to be cleaned up for my pictures tomorrow but I really like to sink my teeth into food. I'm the kind of person who likes chunks of vegetables in my soup, pieces of candy in my ice cream or shakes, fruit in my Jello, and ice in my water. Oh well, it is only for today and besides the Miralax did give texture to my Gatorade. I still have teeth so why am I complaining?
I am going to try and be optimistic about this rite of passage (moving closer to old). Perhaps tomorrow I will write about the bright side of getting a colonoscopy---about the humor in getting a colonoscopy---just the highlights?--or maybe the next day I will write the ABCs of my aches and pains... I am just getting a glimpse of the scope (pun intended) of fun activities that come along with aging.
I am seriously thankful that I live in a day and age when we have tests that give us early detection of life-threatening problems and it is important and wise to take advantage of such positive opportunities. Another upside of living with modern technology is spellcheck and I just got a good giggle when my spellcheck highlighted colonscopy and gave cloudscape and kaleidoscope as the suggestions for correction. Oh the analogies I could draw...but I won't.
Well, gotta run..(Sorry I couldn't resist)
Friday, June 11, 2010
Musing While Mowing
Contemplations while mowing the lawn---besides thinking how non-lush our back lawn is (It feels like old carpet with too many worn spots), how nice our garden is looking compared to last year, and how lucky I was to finish mowing just before the sprinklers came on.
Actually my contemplating started last night after reading a newspaper column. The column is locally written and has become centered around the author's weight loss journey. He lost quite a lot of weight and has worked at having a more active and healthy lifestyle but has been putting the weight back on and falling back into bad habits over the past year. I have glanced at the column periodically but noticed that the topic was frequently how the author was struggling or falling short so I found it consoling but not exactly motivating. Last night it hit home and made me sad to read it as the author was talking about how hard it is to write a column about weight loss and then fail and how now he wants to do better. The man has a good sense of humor but his funny words are lightly coated with frustration and discouragement lurks between the lines. Last night's column was sad but motivating. I hope he hangs in there---maybe I can too.
I don't like to think of myself as overweight but I am because I weigh more than what I should and most importantly more than what I feel happy weighing. I bulge and I jiggle--too much of me moves when I move and seems to keep moving when I stop (sorry--lovely image) and I just look at myself out of the corner of my eye when I see my reflection in a full length mirror--hoping to see less of myself and afraid to see all of myself.
I was always the skinny kid growing up. I liked that identity. My parents thought it was great when I asked for seconds and I could eat whatever I wanted with no guilt. My mom even took me to the doctor once because she was worried about how thin I was. There was nothing wrong--I was just thin. I was always thin but I have also always had a sweet tooth and I have always equated eating with celebrating and having a good time. After I got married and started eating regular meals (that stopped during my college days and living-on-my-own days) I started putting on weight which at first was a good thing. Having babies and getting older naturally changed my body and my metabolism---but not my sweet tooth or my emotional connections with food. I found even more reasons to eat junk. To make a long story short...I eat too much of what I shouldn't, I eat for the wrong reasons, I don't exercise enough and I have been going to change all of that tomorrow, Monday, after the holidays, when school starts, after my birthday---I am headed down a predictable path with all of this...a path that goes in perpetual circles.
Anyway, I was thinking of how we get in our own way. I have been blessed with a good metabolism and pretty good health. I also have height in my favor and a build that is good at hiding excess weight. I have never been an athlete but I have done some athletic things. I ran a 5K a few years back, (I run like a hare for the first minute or two then I run like a turtle if a turtle could run) I've hiked, I've gone on river runs, I've Disco danced for hours and even went rock climbing once. I know I will not continue to escape the consequences of my bad eating habits. I have already had a few minor problems that could be a direct result of not treating my body as well as I should have. I was contemplating how possibly different my body and my life could be right now if I would have corrected my course long ago. Perhaps I would be running 10Ks or marathons, playing tennis with my kids, going on hikes or bicycle rides with my husband, or just simply not afraid to really look at myself in the mirror. Don't get me wrong, I find enjoyment in my life and I do stay pretty active but I can't help but wonder...or worry...maybe I have passed on bad things to my kids because of my bad habits. I have already apologized for passing on bad eyesight and beige tooth enamel--those got passed on to me. My mom was always overly concerned about her weight--I was the only kid in my school--I thought anyway-- who took sandwiches made out of low-calorie bread and my dad had a major sweet tooth--maybe I am genetically hard wired to like sugar, sugar, sugar--but my dad had more self-control and he didn't give birth to four children. I don't know if I genetically passed on bad eating habits to my kids but I have set a bad example and maybe even caused problems for them when they were developing as babies---scary thoughts--One habit I hope to pass on is the habit of not giving up on trying to do the right thing. I'm rambling...surprised?
I wonder if there's a teenager out there who could be a marathon runner or an Olympic swimmer if they hadn't started smoking. I wonder what discoveries could have been made by a once bright young mind dimmed by prescription drugs or what great things could have been accomplished by someone whose confidence was lost in binging and whose boundless energy was suffocated by obeisity...
I know some people take excellent care of their bodies and still succumb to disease, but they did their best and that has to be a soothing balm compared with swallowing the hard pill of knowing you led yourself to your downfall. There are people who smoke and drink for years and end up living to a ripe (perhaps leathery and slightly pickled) old age but sometimes just living a lot of years doesn't win you any prizes. There are triathletes who die of heart attacks walking down the street. There are people who have never smoked who die of lung cancer. Life has interesting twists and turns and things that seem to our eyes incongruous or grossly unfair. I do know that there are no accidents with God---It doesn't make sense that something would catch him by surprise. I also believe that we do really reap what we sow in one way or another. I just can't help but think of the detours or short cuts or just plain bumpy roads we take because of our choices and how painful it would be to look back over our lives and see the times when we voluntarily left the road and what happened or could have happened on the smooth and clearly marked road while we were off bumping along on the ruts and eating dust. So much to think about...
I know there are people out there who have lost my whole body weight from their bodies. I know there are people who would like to be as thin as I am not. I know I am not the only one who shakes my head when I see current pictures of myself or thinks about putting a life size picture of myself of how I looked 30 years ago over my mirror to take the place of my reflection. I know I'm not the only one who thinks about how much better I need to treat my body while eating out of a bag of chocolate chips. Like the man in the newspaper column---I will keep trying to make better choices. And if my kids read this... I'm sorry...but you can rise above genetics and bad examples.
And---mowing the lawn is good physical exercise and good mental exercise---
Actually my contemplating started last night after reading a newspaper column. The column is locally written and has become centered around the author's weight loss journey. He lost quite a lot of weight and has worked at having a more active and healthy lifestyle but has been putting the weight back on and falling back into bad habits over the past year. I have glanced at the column periodically but noticed that the topic was frequently how the author was struggling or falling short so I found it consoling but not exactly motivating. Last night it hit home and made me sad to read it as the author was talking about how hard it is to write a column about weight loss and then fail and how now he wants to do better. The man has a good sense of humor but his funny words are lightly coated with frustration and discouragement lurks between the lines. Last night's column was sad but motivating. I hope he hangs in there---maybe I can too.
I don't like to think of myself as overweight but I am because I weigh more than what I should and most importantly more than what I feel happy weighing. I bulge and I jiggle--too much of me moves when I move and seems to keep moving when I stop (sorry--lovely image) and I just look at myself out of the corner of my eye when I see my reflection in a full length mirror--hoping to see less of myself and afraid to see all of myself.
I was always the skinny kid growing up. I liked that identity. My parents thought it was great when I asked for seconds and I could eat whatever I wanted with no guilt. My mom even took me to the doctor once because she was worried about how thin I was. There was nothing wrong--I was just thin. I was always thin but I have also always had a sweet tooth and I have always equated eating with celebrating and having a good time. After I got married and started eating regular meals (that stopped during my college days and living-on-my-own days) I started putting on weight which at first was a good thing. Having babies and getting older naturally changed my body and my metabolism---but not my sweet tooth or my emotional connections with food. I found even more reasons to eat junk. To make a long story short...I eat too much of what I shouldn't, I eat for the wrong reasons, I don't exercise enough and I have been going to change all of that tomorrow, Monday, after the holidays, when school starts, after my birthday---I am headed down a predictable path with all of this...a path that goes in perpetual circles.
Anyway, I was thinking of how we get in our own way. I have been blessed with a good metabolism and pretty good health. I also have height in my favor and a build that is good at hiding excess weight. I have never been an athlete but I have done some athletic things. I ran a 5K a few years back, (I run like a hare for the first minute or two then I run like a turtle if a turtle could run) I've hiked, I've gone on river runs, I've Disco danced for hours and even went rock climbing once. I know I will not continue to escape the consequences of my bad eating habits. I have already had a few minor problems that could be a direct result of not treating my body as well as I should have. I was contemplating how possibly different my body and my life could be right now if I would have corrected my course long ago. Perhaps I would be running 10Ks or marathons, playing tennis with my kids, going on hikes or bicycle rides with my husband, or just simply not afraid to really look at myself in the mirror. Don't get me wrong, I find enjoyment in my life and I do stay pretty active but I can't help but wonder...or worry...maybe I have passed on bad things to my kids because of my bad habits. I have already apologized for passing on bad eyesight and beige tooth enamel--those got passed on to me. My mom was always overly concerned about her weight--I was the only kid in my school--I thought anyway-- who took sandwiches made out of low-calorie bread and my dad had a major sweet tooth--maybe I am genetically hard wired to like sugar, sugar, sugar--but my dad had more self-control and he didn't give birth to four children. I don't know if I genetically passed on bad eating habits to my kids but I have set a bad example and maybe even caused problems for them when they were developing as babies---scary thoughts--One habit I hope to pass on is the habit of not giving up on trying to do the right thing. I'm rambling...surprised?
I wonder if there's a teenager out there who could be a marathon runner or an Olympic swimmer if they hadn't started smoking. I wonder what discoveries could have been made by a once bright young mind dimmed by prescription drugs or what great things could have been accomplished by someone whose confidence was lost in binging and whose boundless energy was suffocated by obeisity...
I know some people take excellent care of their bodies and still succumb to disease, but they did their best and that has to be a soothing balm compared with swallowing the hard pill of knowing you led yourself to your downfall. There are people who smoke and drink for years and end up living to a ripe (perhaps leathery and slightly pickled) old age but sometimes just living a lot of years doesn't win you any prizes. There are triathletes who die of heart attacks walking down the street. There are people who have never smoked who die of lung cancer. Life has interesting twists and turns and things that seem to our eyes incongruous or grossly unfair. I do know that there are no accidents with God---It doesn't make sense that something would catch him by surprise. I also believe that we do really reap what we sow in one way or another. I just can't help but think of the detours or short cuts or just plain bumpy roads we take because of our choices and how painful it would be to look back over our lives and see the times when we voluntarily left the road and what happened or could have happened on the smooth and clearly marked road while we were off bumping along on the ruts and eating dust. So much to think about...
I know there are people out there who have lost my whole body weight from their bodies. I know there are people who would like to be as thin as I am not. I know I am not the only one who shakes my head when I see current pictures of myself or thinks about putting a life size picture of myself of how I looked 30 years ago over my mirror to take the place of my reflection. I know I'm not the only one who thinks about how much better I need to treat my body while eating out of a bag of chocolate chips. Like the man in the newspaper column---I will keep trying to make better choices. And if my kids read this... I'm sorry...but you can rise above genetics and bad examples.
And---mowing the lawn is good physical exercise and good mental exercise---
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Singing Birds Welcome
I found a great Chinese proverb that says,
Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come.
I like the connotations of a green tree in your heart. I recall some moments when I have felt something like a vibrant green tree in my heart---a glorious gratitude for being alive type of feeling when I feel like I have clear blue sky and fresh sunshine in my lungs and the green tree in my heart is filled with a mighty chorus of singing birds---moments like when I married my sweetheart for time and all eternity, moments when I held my babies for the first time... Other times I have felt like I have a soft green tree in my heart gently swaying in the breeze with a few birds softly chirping---times of just sitting and holding hands with my husband, times of watching my children sleep tucked in all safe and sound and innocent, and times of soaking in the laughter of my grandchildren. Then are times when the tree in my heart isn't green at all and it's bare and cold with maybe one bird just sitting in it waiting for the renovations to be finished---times when I am worried or depressed or overwhelmed--times when I feel old and tired and bent with regret and too far away from Springtime.
How do we keep the tree in our hearts green? Biology basics---sunlight---plenty of light, water---living water to wash and refresh and renew, food---truth and hope to nourish and strengthen.
Of course all of this has to reach down to the roots...
From Chinese proverbs to Emily Dickinson---
Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come.
I like the connotations of a green tree in your heart. I recall some moments when I have felt something like a vibrant green tree in my heart---a glorious gratitude for being alive type of feeling when I feel like I have clear blue sky and fresh sunshine in my lungs and the green tree in my heart is filled with a mighty chorus of singing birds---moments like when I married my sweetheart for time and all eternity, moments when I held my babies for the first time... Other times I have felt like I have a soft green tree in my heart gently swaying in the breeze with a few birds softly chirping---times of just sitting and holding hands with my husband, times of watching my children sleep tucked in all safe and sound and innocent, and times of soaking in the laughter of my grandchildren. Then are times when the tree in my heart isn't green at all and it's bare and cold with maybe one bird just sitting in it waiting for the renovations to be finished---times when I am worried or depressed or overwhelmed--times when I feel old and tired and bent with regret and too far away from Springtime.
How do we keep the tree in our hearts green? Biology basics---sunlight---plenty of light, water---living water to wash and refresh and renew, food---truth and hope to nourish and strengthen.
Of course all of this has to reach down to the roots...
From Chinese proverbs to Emily Dickinson---
Hope
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the stangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Beautiful
By the way, when I googled the poem I noticed that today would have been the 100th birthday of Jacques Cousteau---I just noticed that the last part of his last name means water in French---
I remember watching Jacques Cousteau specials on television as a kid. He always seemed old to me but strong like he had weathered many a storm. Since I seem to be attempting to wax poetic, Mr. Cousteau reminded me of a fish out of water---not in an awkward way but a good way--the sea was so much a part of the man. I think I will try and read more about him. I think a friend of mine was recently reading a book about him.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Perspective and Balance
First things first---In my last blog I mentioned understanding that people have more important things to do than read my blog--like tweezing unwanted facial hair. I realized that this probably mainly refers to women (most men shave unwanted facial hair) so just in case men read my blog--I realize they have more important things to do like tweeze unruly nose hairs---just wanted to broaden my comments.
A few short weeks ago I was out clearing snow off of the tarp protecting our infant vegetable garden and shivering one day and the very next day I was loving the blue skies and soaking in the warmth of the sunshine--so were my little plants. I couldn't help thinking what a difference a day makes--then the song came into my mind, what a difference a day makes, twenty -four little hours. Sometimes a life can be altered in twenty-four little hours or even in minutes or seconds and yet in other circumstances a day seems to not make much difference. I think it is a matter of perspective. Our days might seem to make no difference from what we see but I think they always make a difference or have an impact. Are not we each the sum total of the difference our days make? Perhaps if one day is perceived to be just like any other then we are just existing and not living...I don't know. The apostle Peter said that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years and that has been interpreted to mean that in the Lord's time one of his days is equivalent to a thousand of our years. From that perspective one of our days is an incredibly short period of time to the Lord and little doesn't begin to describe the twenty-four hours within that short short day.
In church last Sunday we sang the hymn Abide With Me with text by Henry F. Lyte. The words Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day struck a chord with me and even made me a get a little teary-eyed. Especially now that I am seeing more of my youthful days in the rear-view mirror on my life's journey, I am increasingly more aware of just how brief this earthly existence is. The description given by James in the New Testament seems very apt, that life is even a vapour that appears for a little time then vanisheth away and yet, this brief life is the time we have been given to prepare to meet God again. (It is interesting that as we age our eyes have difficulty seeing things that are up close but things that are farther away become clearer. Maybe that corresponds somehow with how we start seeing our past more clearly as we get older. Since our lifetimes are very short from an eternal perspective maybe we see our youth in the side mirror and things are closer than they appear) Sometimes we feel we don't have enough hours in the day but at other times we still act like we have all the time in the world. Our Father in Heaven tells us to wisely use our time, to work while the sun shines, to not procrastinate. He also tells us to not run faster than we have strength to do so.
I find it perplexing that many gospel truths unpondered seem to be at odds with each other. In the Book of Mormon we read that we are less than the dust of the earth but in the Doctrine and Covenants we read that the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. The fact that both of these points of view are correct is clarified through perspective and balance. How can God, who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance {Isaiah 40:12} know when one sparrow falls to the earth or when one of his multitude of children on one small planet out of many worlds is hurting? I think a more appropriate question would be how could he not know? To narrow things to our mortal perspective, a trained and skilled doctor in an emergency room uses his abilities to massage a heart with his hands to keep a patient alive and then moves on to use fewer than 10 stitches to close a minor wound. A busy mother of young children has clothes to wash, meals to prepare, carpools to drive but she still stops to listen intently as her small child talks on and on about seeing a potato bug on the sidewalk. Firemen risk their lives to save babies from burning buildings and take their time to get kittens out of tall trees. On an almost daily basis we do big things of little significance and little things of major importance. Learning how to use our time wisely---how to appropriately distribute our energy---how to decide what is most deserving of our attention---how to choose the good and then the better over the good and the best over the better--this knowledge helps us to get the most out of each day. Learning these lessons are part of growing up but I think much more than that they are part of growing closer to God and letting him teach us about balance.
The world, or more accurately worldliness, can upset balance in our lives. More and more things of little worth are given more weight and importance. We spend too much time finding out all about what is wrong with other people's lives and too little time increasing what is right in our own lives. An inordinate amount of emphasis is placed on recreation and entertainment where much less emphasis is placed on work and service. In Proverbs we find out that a false balance is an abomination to the Lord. I think a false balance refers to an inaccurate weight. For example in a market if the scales weigh too heavy then we are charged more money for less product. We work more for less substance. Daniel talks about being weighed in the balance and found wanting. When we leave this brief existence on earth we don't take our prized possessions--our stuff--we do take the things money can't buy--the intangibles--love, integrity, trust--- we don't take diplomas or trophies or ribbons---we do take experience, lessons learned, wisdom, multiplied talents--I envision it kind of like me when I get weighed at the Doctor's office...I am always upset by the number on the scale so I take off my shoes, set down my purse, am tempted to take off earrings---when our earthly lives are weighed we take off or set down all of the stuff, the things and we are left with the lessons, the feelings, the thoughts---if we have only focused on the stuff then we will be found wanting spiritually.
So...all the little hours, days, weeks, months, and years add up to a life that is very brief but when weighed in the balance of eternity by our Heavenly Father who knows our worth...what a difference a day makes.
A few short weeks ago I was out clearing snow off of the tarp protecting our infant vegetable garden and shivering one day and the very next day I was loving the blue skies and soaking in the warmth of the sunshine--so were my little plants. I couldn't help thinking what a difference a day makes--then the song came into my mind, what a difference a day makes, twenty -four little hours. Sometimes a life can be altered in twenty-four little hours or even in minutes or seconds and yet in other circumstances a day seems to not make much difference. I think it is a matter of perspective. Our days might seem to make no difference from what we see but I think they always make a difference or have an impact. Are not we each the sum total of the difference our days make? Perhaps if one day is perceived to be just like any other then we are just existing and not living...I don't know. The apostle Peter said that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years and that has been interpreted to mean that in the Lord's time one of his days is equivalent to a thousand of our years. From that perspective one of our days is an incredibly short period of time to the Lord and little doesn't begin to describe the twenty-four hours within that short short day.
In church last Sunday we sang the hymn Abide With Me with text by Henry F. Lyte. The words Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day struck a chord with me and even made me a get a little teary-eyed. Especially now that I am seeing more of my youthful days in the rear-view mirror on my life's journey, I am increasingly more aware of just how brief this earthly existence is. The description given by James in the New Testament seems very apt, that life is even a vapour that appears for a little time then vanisheth away and yet, this brief life is the time we have been given to prepare to meet God again. (It is interesting that as we age our eyes have difficulty seeing things that are up close but things that are farther away become clearer. Maybe that corresponds somehow with how we start seeing our past more clearly as we get older. Since our lifetimes are very short from an eternal perspective maybe we see our youth in the side mirror and things are closer than they appear) Sometimes we feel we don't have enough hours in the day but at other times we still act like we have all the time in the world. Our Father in Heaven tells us to wisely use our time, to work while the sun shines, to not procrastinate. He also tells us to not run faster than we have strength to do so.
I find it perplexing that many gospel truths unpondered seem to be at odds with each other. In the Book of Mormon we read that we are less than the dust of the earth but in the Doctrine and Covenants we read that the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. The fact that both of these points of view are correct is clarified through perspective and balance. How can God, who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance {Isaiah 40:12} know when one sparrow falls to the earth or when one of his multitude of children on one small planet out of many worlds is hurting? I think a more appropriate question would be how could he not know? To narrow things to our mortal perspective, a trained and skilled doctor in an emergency room uses his abilities to massage a heart with his hands to keep a patient alive and then moves on to use fewer than 10 stitches to close a minor wound. A busy mother of young children has clothes to wash, meals to prepare, carpools to drive but she still stops to listen intently as her small child talks on and on about seeing a potato bug on the sidewalk. Firemen risk their lives to save babies from burning buildings and take their time to get kittens out of tall trees. On an almost daily basis we do big things of little significance and little things of major importance. Learning how to use our time wisely---how to appropriately distribute our energy---how to decide what is most deserving of our attention---how to choose the good and then the better over the good and the best over the better--this knowledge helps us to get the most out of each day. Learning these lessons are part of growing up but I think much more than that they are part of growing closer to God and letting him teach us about balance.
The world, or more accurately worldliness, can upset balance in our lives. More and more things of little worth are given more weight and importance. We spend too much time finding out all about what is wrong with other people's lives and too little time increasing what is right in our own lives. An inordinate amount of emphasis is placed on recreation and entertainment where much less emphasis is placed on work and service. In Proverbs we find out that a false balance is an abomination to the Lord. I think a false balance refers to an inaccurate weight. For example in a market if the scales weigh too heavy then we are charged more money for less product. We work more for less substance. Daniel talks about being weighed in the balance and found wanting. When we leave this brief existence on earth we don't take our prized possessions--our stuff--we do take the things money can't buy--the intangibles--love, integrity, trust--- we don't take diplomas or trophies or ribbons---we do take experience, lessons learned, wisdom, multiplied talents--I envision it kind of like me when I get weighed at the Doctor's office...I am always upset by the number on the scale so I take off my shoes, set down my purse, am tempted to take off earrings---when our earthly lives are weighed we take off or set down all of the stuff, the things and we are left with the lessons, the feelings, the thoughts---if we have only focused on the stuff then we will be found wanting spiritually.
So...all the little hours, days, weeks, months, and years add up to a life that is very brief but when weighed in the balance of eternity by our Heavenly Father who knows our worth...what a difference a day makes.
Monday, June 7, 2010
A Package---For Me?
I received a delightful package in the mail the other day. It was from a very sweet and special cousin. I opened the package to find it full of Willy Wonka Sensationals Candy. My cousin sent it in response to a blog I wrote about the Willy Wonka Candy. She enclosed a cute card with a message that encouraged me to share so that I wouldn't have to wriggle into my pantihose (a reference to another blog). I was touched by her generosity but I have to admit I was thrilled that she reads my blog. In my more self-centered and insecure moments I find myself envying bloggers who have 50 or more followers---okay sometimes I envy bloggers who have 10 followers but I appreciate my friends and family who take time to read my blog. I like to think I go for quality over quantity when it comes to number of followers. I am fully aware that people have more important things to do with their time--like tweezing unwanted facial hair--than read my blog and I do write mainly to hone my writing skills but it is nice to think that somewhere out there I have brought a smile to someone's face or given someone something to ponder--while tweezing unwanted facial hair. Anyway...I have tried to share the bounty of goodies but I have still ended up eating too many myself and have further distorted my girlish figure...but even that cannot dampen the delight that arrived with the package and resurfaces with each devoured piece of cherished confection.
Whenever I receive an unexpected package in the mail it feels like Christmas. (Let's drive any thoughts of the Uni bomber or Anthrax far away from the front of our minds for a few blissful moments) Most of the packages we receive are job-related items for my husband or books or aquarium stuff---things ordered online. Only on rare occasions do I receive a package addressed to me and when it is from a family member or a friend that package infuses my being with sweet anticipation and holds just as much promise of a special surprise as the biggest shiniest Christmas package holds for an eager child. (you're right, I could use a little more excitement in my life)
Actually, I have received very few surprise packages over the course of my lifetime thus far. (It makes me feel so eloquent to use the word thus.) Growing up, the family members I was closest to lived in the same state and most were frugal enough not to mail something they could deliver in person. Perhaps that is why a few special deliveries stand out in my mind...
On one of my childhood birthdays I received a surprise package from my Aunt Lillian. Let me give a bit of background information on my Aunt Lillian... She and my grandma were the only girls in a family of mostly boys. I heard several stories about how Aunt Lillian was the princess in her family and my grandma was more like Cinderella. I suspect neither my aunt nor my grandma would tell their story that way but that was how I heard it and my grandma did do her sister's laundry for a one dollar a day to support her family after my grandpa passed away. The two sisters did seem to be as different as night and day. My grandma was always frugal and practical. She rarely indulged in leisurely activities and her main satisfaction was derived from caring for her family. My Aunt Lil's husband had been a successful businessman and she always had a desire for the finer things in life, things of a tangible nature. She wasn't exactly among the Rich and Famous but she was well-to-do and as my mother would say, she had quite a 'highfalutin' attitude. Once in awhile Aunt Lil would treat her less advantaged relatives (my family) to an outing like dinner at a nice restaurant or ice-cream at Snelgroves followed by a visit to her home to watch Lawerence Welk on her new color television. I remember her being interested in health food so when we visited she would serve Papaya juice. I thought it was delicious and very exotic tasting--before I even knew what exotic meant. She also gave us little pastilles that tasted like what I imagined perfume would taste like. Whenever Aunt Lillian went to give a restaurant her patronage the employees became her personal staff. She was very demanding and inevitably there was something wrong with food. She could be quite intimidating but I thought of my encounters with my great aunt Lillian as being quite the exciting adventures. Back to the package---it was a big surprise because she had never before given me a gift for my birthday. It was an apron with narrow pockets for crayons and one of those plastic coloring mats that you can color and then erase. The crayons didn't color very well but the gift was unique, and it had arrived in the mail, and it was from Aunt Lillian.
Another surprise package that I still remember fondly and with greater clarity than my 'Aunt Lil package' was sent to me by my Aunt Elva who lived in New Jersey---the Mysterious East which was almost just as exciting as the Orient to my young fanciful mind. Aunt Elva was really my mom's cousin but my grandmother raised her when both of her parents were killed in an automobile accident. I only met her twice I think which added to her intriguing persona. My aunt Elva was an excellent seamstress so she had hand made the contents of package which increased their sentimental value tenfold. Apparently my mother had told aunt Elva how much I enjoyed playing with Barbie dolls. The expression on the face of a deep sea diving sunken treasure hunter upon opening a barnacled chest filled with gold doubloons could not have rivaled the look of pure joy on my face when I opened my package to discover layers of individually bagged barbie outfits. I think a couple of dolls were even included. One was a Tammy doll that was kind of like a girl-next-door version of the more cosmopolitan model-esque Barbie. Tammy and Barbie could share homemade Barbie clothes even though Tammy had a smaller bust, a thicker waist and bigger calves---in other words she was more realistic and less a poster girl for plastic surgery. Anyway---there were ball gowns of luxurious fabric complete with fur stoles, stylish pantsuits, play outfits complete with matching kerchiefs, (I am now speaking a foreign language to those not born in the 50's or 60's) and even pajamas. I cannot begin to tell you how much it meant to me to have such a fine wardrobe for my dolls. I was the envy of any friend or neighbor who came to play dolls. My imagination was fueled and my pretend play went to a whole new level. I kept putting those clothes back in the bags for years until I turned them over to my daughters. Incredible...
One more package of note was received a few years ago from my cousin's wife. She and I had had a phone conversation in which we discovered that we both loved the 1964 television special of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. She mentioned she has a collection of figurines from the show and I mentioned how great that would be. Not long after our phone conversation I was surprised and elated to receive a package in the mail containing collectible stuffed versions of the main characters from my favorite Christmas special. (She later reassured me that they were originally purchased for a small amount but they are priceless to me) I happily display them each year at Christmas---symbols of good childhood memories and thoughtful gestures.
Sometimes joy comes in the mail.
Random thought---I think a dictionary of phonetically spelled words would be helpful. I consider myself to be a capable speller but I do get frustrated when I am trying to look up the meaning of a word I don't know how to spell...
Whenever I receive an unexpected package in the mail it feels like Christmas. (Let's drive any thoughts of the Uni bomber or Anthrax far away from the front of our minds for a few blissful moments) Most of the packages we receive are job-related items for my husband or books or aquarium stuff---things ordered online. Only on rare occasions do I receive a package addressed to me and when it is from a family member or a friend that package infuses my being with sweet anticipation and holds just as much promise of a special surprise as the biggest shiniest Christmas package holds for an eager child. (you're right, I could use a little more excitement in my life)
Actually, I have received very few surprise packages over the course of my lifetime thus far. (It makes me feel so eloquent to use the word thus.) Growing up, the family members I was closest to lived in the same state and most were frugal enough not to mail something they could deliver in person. Perhaps that is why a few special deliveries stand out in my mind...
On one of my childhood birthdays I received a surprise package from my Aunt Lillian. Let me give a bit of background information on my Aunt Lillian... She and my grandma were the only girls in a family of mostly boys. I heard several stories about how Aunt Lillian was the princess in her family and my grandma was more like Cinderella. I suspect neither my aunt nor my grandma would tell their story that way but that was how I heard it and my grandma did do her sister's laundry for a one dollar a day to support her family after my grandpa passed away. The two sisters did seem to be as different as night and day. My grandma was always frugal and practical. She rarely indulged in leisurely activities and her main satisfaction was derived from caring for her family. My Aunt Lil's husband had been a successful businessman and she always had a desire for the finer things in life, things of a tangible nature. She wasn't exactly among the Rich and Famous but she was well-to-do and as my mother would say, she had quite a 'highfalutin' attitude. Once in awhile Aunt Lil would treat her less advantaged relatives (my family) to an outing like dinner at a nice restaurant or ice-cream at Snelgroves followed by a visit to her home to watch Lawerence Welk on her new color television. I remember her being interested in health food so when we visited she would serve Papaya juice. I thought it was delicious and very exotic tasting--before I even knew what exotic meant. She also gave us little pastilles that tasted like what I imagined perfume would taste like. Whenever Aunt Lillian went to give a restaurant her patronage the employees became her personal staff. She was very demanding and inevitably there was something wrong with food. She could be quite intimidating but I thought of my encounters with my great aunt Lillian as being quite the exciting adventures. Back to the package---it was a big surprise because she had never before given me a gift for my birthday. It was an apron with narrow pockets for crayons and one of those plastic coloring mats that you can color and then erase. The crayons didn't color very well but the gift was unique, and it had arrived in the mail, and it was from Aunt Lillian.
Another surprise package that I still remember fondly and with greater clarity than my 'Aunt Lil package' was sent to me by my Aunt Elva who lived in New Jersey---the Mysterious East which was almost just as exciting as the Orient to my young fanciful mind. Aunt Elva was really my mom's cousin but my grandmother raised her when both of her parents were killed in an automobile accident. I only met her twice I think which added to her intriguing persona. My aunt Elva was an excellent seamstress so she had hand made the contents of package which increased their sentimental value tenfold. Apparently my mother had told aunt Elva how much I enjoyed playing with Barbie dolls. The expression on the face of a deep sea diving sunken treasure hunter upon opening a barnacled chest filled with gold doubloons could not have rivaled the look of pure joy on my face when I opened my package to discover layers of individually bagged barbie outfits. I think a couple of dolls were even included. One was a Tammy doll that was kind of like a girl-next-door version of the more cosmopolitan model-esque Barbie. Tammy and Barbie could share homemade Barbie clothes even though Tammy had a smaller bust, a thicker waist and bigger calves---in other words she was more realistic and less a poster girl for plastic surgery. Anyway---there were ball gowns of luxurious fabric complete with fur stoles, stylish pantsuits, play outfits complete with matching kerchiefs, (I am now speaking a foreign language to those not born in the 50's or 60's) and even pajamas. I cannot begin to tell you how much it meant to me to have such a fine wardrobe for my dolls. I was the envy of any friend or neighbor who came to play dolls. My imagination was fueled and my pretend play went to a whole new level. I kept putting those clothes back in the bags for years until I turned them over to my daughters. Incredible...
One more package of note was received a few years ago from my cousin's wife. She and I had had a phone conversation in which we discovered that we both loved the 1964 television special of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. She mentioned she has a collection of figurines from the show and I mentioned how great that would be. Not long after our phone conversation I was surprised and elated to receive a package in the mail containing collectible stuffed versions of the main characters from my favorite Christmas special. (She later reassured me that they were originally purchased for a small amount but they are priceless to me) I happily display them each year at Christmas---symbols of good childhood memories and thoughtful gestures.
Sometimes joy comes in the mail.
Random thought---I think a dictionary of phonetically spelled words would be helpful. I consider myself to be a capable speller but I do get frustrated when I am trying to look up the meaning of a word I don't know how to spell...
Saturday, June 5, 2010
A Doggone Good Question
Sometimes I ask myself the question, 'Why do we have dogs?' (Not why do dogs exist but why does our family own two of them) Maybe it's because I have always fancied how unique plastic carpet runners look on my furniture or the slightly wild texture that dog hair adds to my clothing. Maybe it's because it forces me to be vigilant about keeping doors closed, things picked up off the floor and food away from the edge of the table or because I prefer the soft sounds of whining and snuffling under my door to the startling sounds of my alarm clock... Of course the real reason is because we had an angel dog named Beth for eight years who made our home somehow more complete and when she passed away we told our two youngest children still living at home that we would get another dog. As much as we missed Beth we didn't miss the hairy coating on all surfaces in our home or the squishy land mines in the grass so it took us a year and a half before we actually got another dog.
We rescued Zoey from the shelter. One of our daughters was drawn to Zoey because she was sitting quietly while all the other dogs were barking and she has the captivating quirk of one lazy ear that flops while her other ear stands up straight. She was skinny and only cautiously friendly. She was supposed to be a Greyhound/Visla mix. We were later told she was probably mostly Belgian Malanois--definitely a herding breed of some sort. She does run like a greyhound and she is quite smart like a herding dog but she is very skittish and hides her fears behind frightening barking and gnashing of teeth---not real warm to people. She also bites at peoples' heels and loves to pull up chunks of grass just for fun. Did I mention we noticed right away that Zoey was definitely another dog---not like our Bethy at all.
Zoey was so much fun that we decided to get yet another dog. Actually we were hoping a second dog would help Zoey use up some of her energy and calm her. My husband was tired of being outnumbered by girls so he wanted a male dog---a beagle to be specific. (You see the captain of the ship on the television show called Enterprise---yet another Star Trek byproduct-- has a beagle so if my husband has a beagle then that takes him one step closer to being captain of a star ship--which would make him very happy and he would be very good at it too) We have now had Bo the Tri-Colored Beagle for a year. He is cute and affectionate. He is a voracious eater which I understand is part of the breed and he loves to chew. He chewed up a remote for my husband's big screen television (my husband does share the television with the rest of the family, but like the remote control, it is really his) and he still kept his happy home which proves how much my husband likes him. I think Zoey enjoys having company and she behaves a bit better just to show us that she is the good dog---because she doesn't have drooling jowls that slime furniture and people, she doesn't run away to find food at the neighbors, and she doesn't chew up remotes. My youngest daughter says that Zoey is like a thin exotic model and Bo her wealthy portly little man friend. They do make an interesting pair. Zoey loves to play more than anything and Bo loves to eat more than anything. They are both a bit crazy but then again so are we---that is why we are their owners...
One particularly pesky habit all too often displayed by both of our dogs gives me good reason to ask the question, 'Why do we have dogs?' Zoey and Bo rush to the fence like barking maniacs whenever a dog on the other side gets too close to the fence or breathes too loudly. The barking would be bad enough but they also claw and bite at the fence and then gag up pieces of fence. We have four neighbors bordering our backyard. Three of them have dogs. We have shredded fence slats and posts in three main spots. I know that according to dog experts they are exhibiting territorial dominant aggressive behavior---they are defending their space but during flights of fancy I can imagine the neighbor dogs taunting our dogs by muttering offensive remarks up close to the fence--- I've seen cats that could take you---you bark like a girl dog---I see you eat dog food, my people feed me steak off the grill---you are so lucky there's a fence here---What if people were that territorial? (Maybe they are--maybe I am---like when I grumble when someone pulls into a parking space next to me before I have had a chance to exit my vehicle or when I would get kind of irritated when a very tall adult would sit in a seat right in front of one of my children at a movie or when I feel crowded when another family puts their blanket a little too close to my picnic at the park---you know those little moments of guilty irritation--moments that I try to follow up with some self-talk on the need to share---luckily I don't bite fences---I don't even like toothpicks) When our dogs exhibit this frustrating behavior I try to tell them 'no' in my most authoritative voice and they stop---for at least two minutes or until my neighbors call their dogs in either because the barking is getting to them or my repeated commands are getting to them.
My daughter and I frequently muse about what it would be like if people acted like dogs . We are so thankful that people don't greet one another with highly personal sniffing and can you imagine hearing human scratching , growling or biting at the wall dividing bathroom stalls or voting booths or any other confined spaces where people might get to feeling territorial or defensive? On the other hand, I can picture dogs relaxing on the sofa watching television while their owners pound the wall when the person in the neighboring apartment is being noisy and saying to themselves--'there they go again, why do they do that?' I blame this line of thinking partially on a comedian/musician named Jim Stafford who years ago as part of a comedy routine asked the question, "Do you ever wonder what your dogs do when you're gone all day?" He said he thought dogs re-arrange the furniture. I had so much fun thinking about that---I really did.
Our dogs do have their good points. Zoey looks so cute and hopeful when she wants to play and if I exercised her to her heart's content I would be a lot thinner! Bo likes to cuddle and has a constant adorable hound dog expression. Petting the dogs is very soothing. I have dogs because they love me, they are fine with my silly jokes, they enthusiastically greet me, and they constantly remind me that simple pleasures are priceless and precious. My grand kids do all this and more and they don't bite the fence. Why do we have dogs?
We rescued Zoey from the shelter. One of our daughters was drawn to Zoey because she was sitting quietly while all the other dogs were barking and she has the captivating quirk of one lazy ear that flops while her other ear stands up straight. She was skinny and only cautiously friendly. She was supposed to be a Greyhound/Visla mix. We were later told she was probably mostly Belgian Malanois--definitely a herding breed of some sort. She does run like a greyhound and she is quite smart like a herding dog but she is very skittish and hides her fears behind frightening barking and gnashing of teeth---not real warm to people. She also bites at peoples' heels and loves to pull up chunks of grass just for fun. Did I mention we noticed right away that Zoey was definitely another dog---not like our Bethy at all.
Zoey was so much fun that we decided to get yet another dog. Actually we were hoping a second dog would help Zoey use up some of her energy and calm her. My husband was tired of being outnumbered by girls so he wanted a male dog---a beagle to be specific. (You see the captain of the ship on the television show called Enterprise---yet another Star Trek byproduct-- has a beagle so if my husband has a beagle then that takes him one step closer to being captain of a star ship--which would make him very happy and he would be very good at it too) We have now had Bo the Tri-Colored Beagle for a year. He is cute and affectionate. He is a voracious eater which I understand is part of the breed and he loves to chew. He chewed up a remote for my husband's big screen television (my husband does share the television with the rest of the family, but like the remote control, it is really his) and he still kept his happy home which proves how much my husband likes him. I think Zoey enjoys having company and she behaves a bit better just to show us that she is the good dog---because she doesn't have drooling jowls that slime furniture and people, she doesn't run away to find food at the neighbors, and she doesn't chew up remotes. My youngest daughter says that Zoey is like a thin exotic model and Bo her wealthy portly little man friend. They do make an interesting pair. Zoey loves to play more than anything and Bo loves to eat more than anything. They are both a bit crazy but then again so are we---that is why we are their owners...
One particularly pesky habit all too often displayed by both of our dogs gives me good reason to ask the question, 'Why do we have dogs?' Zoey and Bo rush to the fence like barking maniacs whenever a dog on the other side gets too close to the fence or breathes too loudly. The barking would be bad enough but they also claw and bite at the fence and then gag up pieces of fence. We have four neighbors bordering our backyard. Three of them have dogs. We have shredded fence slats and posts in three main spots. I know that according to dog experts they are exhibiting territorial dominant aggressive behavior---they are defending their space but during flights of fancy I can imagine the neighbor dogs taunting our dogs by muttering offensive remarks up close to the fence--- I've seen cats that could take you---you bark like a girl dog---I see you eat dog food, my people feed me steak off the grill---you are so lucky there's a fence here---What if people were that territorial? (Maybe they are--maybe I am---like when I grumble when someone pulls into a parking space next to me before I have had a chance to exit my vehicle or when I would get kind of irritated when a very tall adult would sit in a seat right in front of one of my children at a movie or when I feel crowded when another family puts their blanket a little too close to my picnic at the park---you know those little moments of guilty irritation--moments that I try to follow up with some self-talk on the need to share---luckily I don't bite fences---I don't even like toothpicks) When our dogs exhibit this frustrating behavior I try to tell them 'no' in my most authoritative voice and they stop---for at least two minutes or until my neighbors call their dogs in either because the barking is getting to them or my repeated commands are getting to them.
My daughter and I frequently muse about what it would be like if people acted like dogs . We are so thankful that people don't greet one another with highly personal sniffing and can you imagine hearing human scratching , growling or biting at the wall dividing bathroom stalls or voting booths or any other confined spaces where people might get to feeling territorial or defensive? On the other hand, I can picture dogs relaxing on the sofa watching television while their owners pound the wall when the person in the neighboring apartment is being noisy and saying to themselves--'there they go again, why do they do that?' I blame this line of thinking partially on a comedian/musician named Jim Stafford who years ago as part of a comedy routine asked the question, "Do you ever wonder what your dogs do when you're gone all day?" He said he thought dogs re-arrange the furniture. I had so much fun thinking about that---I really did.
Our dogs do have their good points. Zoey looks so cute and hopeful when she wants to play and if I exercised her to her heart's content I would be a lot thinner! Bo likes to cuddle and has a constant adorable hound dog expression. Petting the dogs is very soothing. I have dogs because they love me, they are fine with my silly jokes, they enthusiastically greet me, and they constantly remind me that simple pleasures are priceless and precious. My grand kids do all this and more and they don't bite the fence. Why do we have dogs?
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Where to?
My daughter passed her driver's test last Saturday and that got me to thinking about driving and how much of it I have done in my lifetime. I think it would be interesting if someone kept a log of all the miles they drive from the time they get their license until they stop driving---maybe someone has...
I still have a few memories of my Driver's Ed classes. Once the teacher had us swing by his house and he came out eating something and I complained about him not bringing back something for his drivers. One time I was driving down a curved slope on my way back to the school from a road drive and I got distracted and made a slightly scary over correction to avoid jumping the curb. My teacher stayed very calm and I was very embarrassed but thankful I hadn't crashed. Speaking of crashes--- I also remember a gruesome movie that was shown to all of the Driver's Ed classes. I think it was called mechanized death or something. (An updated version is still shown today) It showed the gory consequences of careless driving. Multiple Driver's Ed classes were packed like sardines in one classroom so I had to stand throughout the entire movie trying hard not to faint (and I don't faint easily). The movie made a lasting impression and for the most part accomplished its purpose of scaring me into being cautious but I think it also had something to do with me not being very eager to drive once I got my license. My Mom would think up errands just to get me driving. Oddly enough, something that helped me relax a bit about driving was riding with a gutsy friend of mine either to college classes or just goofing off. She got a cute little white stick shift Pontiac Sunbird for a graduation gift. She could eat, drink, and shift with the greatest of ease. No worries---
Before I got married I logged most of my driving hours commuting from my home to college. Then there were drives downtown in my little blue Pinto to work at J.C. Penney (I got cheap thrills and good steering practice going quite fast down their parking ramp) and then drives to discos including one clear in Orem---The Disco Palace I think it was called--(I hear laughing but it was truly a big event in an LDS disco queen's life to go to the super cool Disco Palace) that I went to one winter with some friends. I drove in my little Mustang II with a heater and defrost that didn't work. I took blankets for my friends but since even back then I knew it wasn't good to drive with a blanket over your legs, my dancing feet were pretty much frozen by the time I made it home.
After marriage my driving was mainly to and from work and when our first daughter was going on two we moved to a place I had only known before as a turning around spot on Sunday drives. It put us quite a ways from my parents. Although a friend from California once said that what is considered a long commute or drive to a Utahan really isn't long at all. As a stay-at-home mom most of my driving consisted of short trips---to the grocery store, the library, dentist and doctor appointments---the main long trips were to visit my parents
Once my kids were in school and old enough to have social calendars of their own I soon fell--notice I did say fell not slipped-- into the role of Chauffeur Mom. Of course the only thing I had in common with regular chauffeurs was the driving and the waiting. I never had a real smart looking uniform and there were times I wished for a clear divider between myself and the back seats. It would have been soothing to my sometimes frazzled nerves to block out some of the arguing and whining. But on second thought with a divider I would have missed out on a lot of fun and interesting conversations...
All of our kids at one time attended schools out of our neighborhood so I spent a fair amount of time taking my kids to school and picking them up. Luckily we carpooled most of the time. Carpools bring their own unique drama and adventure to daily life---for the most part we were fortunate(blessed in some cases) to be in good ones. After giving me a day off my husband remarked how challenging it must be to get anything done because of my day being so broken up into small windows of time. I think I gave him an 'if you only knew' smile. The days that were not my days to drive did hold a certain amount of luxury. All the school driving was hectic but it definitely had its good times and brings back good memories. It was fun to hear the chatter of the kids. Sometimes they would play games. Sometimes they would be very tired and quiet and sometimes they would have fun listening to our eclectic collection of music. Weird Al, Kermit Unpigged, Cheech Marin's songs for kids, Dr. Demento---were all part of our School Car Pool play list. You can't help but have a good time listening to Miss Piggy and Ozzy Osbourne rock out on Born To Be Wild. Of course in the early days we would listen to a local radio station for kids called The Imagination Station. It was there that we were introduced to such unique songs as Fish Heads and Star Trekin. I enjoyed that station every bit as much as my kids. (okay--maybe even more) It made me giggle and made driving fun. Unfortunately, the station was bought out by Radio Disney which is kind of like your favorite Mom and Pop drive-in being bought out by McDonald's. There goes the uniqueness. Sometimes I felt like the car and I were on autopilot because of traveling the same roads so often to and from school but those days passed all too quickly. For all my complaining, there was actually something comforting driving my kids places. The day you wave to your child as they take off by themselves in the car with a license of their own is the day you know nothing will ever be the same again...
So any way...I have driven many many miles since I got my very first brand new super exciting driver's license and sometimes I love to have someone else drive me places, but after having a mom who wasn't able to drive and watching my Dad have to give up driving and all the independence that goes with it when he got Alzheimer's, I am grateful that I have a license to drive. It does come in handy having your children be drivers (Someday they will probably be taking me to doctor and dentist appointments and hopefully to the library---maybe we can listen to Weird Al---) although at first it is indescribably frightening.
Happy driving! What's the view from your windshield?
I still have a few memories of my Driver's Ed classes. Once the teacher had us swing by his house and he came out eating something and I complained about him not bringing back something for his drivers. One time I was driving down a curved slope on my way back to the school from a road drive and I got distracted and made a slightly scary over correction to avoid jumping the curb. My teacher stayed very calm and I was very embarrassed but thankful I hadn't crashed. Speaking of crashes--- I also remember a gruesome movie that was shown to all of the Driver's Ed classes. I think it was called mechanized death or something. (An updated version is still shown today) It showed the gory consequences of careless driving. Multiple Driver's Ed classes were packed like sardines in one classroom so I had to stand throughout the entire movie trying hard not to faint (and I don't faint easily). The movie made a lasting impression and for the most part accomplished its purpose of scaring me into being cautious but I think it also had something to do with me not being very eager to drive once I got my license. My Mom would think up errands just to get me driving. Oddly enough, something that helped me relax a bit about driving was riding with a gutsy friend of mine either to college classes or just goofing off. She got a cute little white stick shift Pontiac Sunbird for a graduation gift. She could eat, drink, and shift with the greatest of ease. No worries---
Before I got married I logged most of my driving hours commuting from my home to college. Then there were drives downtown in my little blue Pinto to work at J.C. Penney (I got cheap thrills and good steering practice going quite fast down their parking ramp) and then drives to discos including one clear in Orem---The Disco Palace I think it was called--(I hear laughing but it was truly a big event in an LDS disco queen's life to go to the super cool Disco Palace) that I went to one winter with some friends. I drove in my little Mustang II with a heater and defrost that didn't work. I took blankets for my friends but since even back then I knew it wasn't good to drive with a blanket over your legs, my dancing feet were pretty much frozen by the time I made it home.
After marriage my driving was mainly to and from work and when our first daughter was going on two we moved to a place I had only known before as a turning around spot on Sunday drives. It put us quite a ways from my parents. Although a friend from California once said that what is considered a long commute or drive to a Utahan really isn't long at all. As a stay-at-home mom most of my driving consisted of short trips---to the grocery store, the library, dentist and doctor appointments---the main long trips were to visit my parents
Once my kids were in school and old enough to have social calendars of their own I soon fell--notice I did say fell not slipped-- into the role of Chauffeur Mom. Of course the only thing I had in common with regular chauffeurs was the driving and the waiting. I never had a real smart looking uniform and there were times I wished for a clear divider between myself and the back seats. It would have been soothing to my sometimes frazzled nerves to block out some of the arguing and whining. But on second thought with a divider I would have missed out on a lot of fun and interesting conversations...
All of our kids at one time attended schools out of our neighborhood so I spent a fair amount of time taking my kids to school and picking them up. Luckily we carpooled most of the time. Carpools bring their own unique drama and adventure to daily life---for the most part we were fortunate(blessed in some cases) to be in good ones. After giving me a day off my husband remarked how challenging it must be to get anything done because of my day being so broken up into small windows of time. I think I gave him an 'if you only knew' smile. The days that were not my days to drive did hold a certain amount of luxury. All the school driving was hectic but it definitely had its good times and brings back good memories. It was fun to hear the chatter of the kids. Sometimes they would play games. Sometimes they would be very tired and quiet and sometimes they would have fun listening to our eclectic collection of music. Weird Al, Kermit Unpigged, Cheech Marin's songs for kids, Dr. Demento---were all part of our School Car Pool play list. You can't help but have a good time listening to Miss Piggy and Ozzy Osbourne rock out on Born To Be Wild. Of course in the early days we would listen to a local radio station for kids called The Imagination Station. It was there that we were introduced to such unique songs as Fish Heads and Star Trekin. I enjoyed that station every bit as much as my kids. (okay--maybe even more) It made me giggle and made driving fun. Unfortunately, the station was bought out by Radio Disney which is kind of like your favorite Mom and Pop drive-in being bought out by McDonald's. There goes the uniqueness. Sometimes I felt like the car and I were on autopilot because of traveling the same roads so often to and from school but those days passed all too quickly. For all my complaining, there was actually something comforting driving my kids places. The day you wave to your child as they take off by themselves in the car with a license of their own is the day you know nothing will ever be the same again...
So any way...I have driven many many miles since I got my very first brand new super exciting driver's license and sometimes I love to have someone else drive me places, but after having a mom who wasn't able to drive and watching my Dad have to give up driving and all the independence that goes with it when he got Alzheimer's, I am grateful that I have a license to drive. It does come in handy having your children be drivers (Someday they will probably be taking me to doctor and dentist appointments and hopefully to the library---maybe we can listen to Weird Al---) although at first it is indescribably frightening.
Happy driving! What's the view from your windshield?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)