My kids have a song on one of their CDs that goes "we're very very busy and we've got a lot to do and we haven't got a minute to explain it all to you. For on sunday monday tuesday there are things that we must see and on wednesday thursday Friday we're as busy as can be. With our most important meetings and our most important calls and we have to do so many things and post them on the walls."
That's how I've felt this summer. It's kind of driving me nuts. I like having time to sit. There hasn't been a lot of it (hense the shortage of posts, which I know you're all so sad about). Kids just keep you busy. In the summer, there's more to do too. Library programs, wading pools and sprinklers, gardening (which I didn't do this year), walks, bike rides, parks, etc. I've wanted to have more time with my friends, but it seems like these things keep coming up.
And in the midst of it, I have these fleeting deep thoughts, which i think I'll blog about, but then I forget them by the end of the day when I have time.
I also wasted two weeks of evenings watching a TV show that we got addicted to. Not sharing what it is, either. Guilty pleasures.
Anyway. What else happened?
My sister hopped home for a quick visit. While she was here, my brother returned home from Afghanistan, so we went down to central state for the coming home cerimony. It was ridiculously short, which was great. And so great to have my little brother home.
My sister's getting married in two and a half weeks in Nashville. Before that, we're probably headed up to Montana for a quick visit with the relatives. It doesn't quite seem like a good idea to drag my kids across the country one direction one week, then back across and the other direction the next. But I think I'm crazy like that. It should be good.
Between MOntana and Nashville, my brother-in-law's family will be here visiting. We're closest in age to them and always get along well, so we'll probably spend some time with them in those few days.
It isn't really that busy when I talk about it. But, then I have to add in bringing the kids along everywhere, making supper, keeping the house clean, finishing house projects (never ending), church, and garage sales (which I actually consider part of my duty because otherwise I have to go and find good deals at stores and save coupons and crap like that and I just don't want to).
I like busy. but I like butt-sitting too. Maybe Montana will be a good rest. I can't wait to stand among the wheat. Watch the rodeo and dream about horses. Ride four wheelers and bum around at the fair with the cousins. Maybe I'll get a good storm out of it too.
Anyway, that was a boring post about what I'm doing. What are you doing these days? Are you busy too?
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
One Year Ago
It's funny how, even though our minds seem built for eternity, we live with such a temporal mindset. Where we take so many wonderful things for granted. And then, in one jarring moment, when it's lost, we realize all over again how broken the world is, and how fleeting all of our pleasures are.
One year ago, I was in the RV headed up to my grandma's funeral with my family, my older brother and a cousin. With such heavy hearts, we laid her to rest in the family plot, next to ancestors and baby grandchildren gone too soon. It was the first funeral I've been to where I felt great personal loss at the goodbye. because grandmas, they're just always part of your life. Whether you know them well or not. You're part of them. They're a piece of the stability you know, and part of who you are.
My grandma, Dorthy Mae, was this amazing woman who learned the joy of contentment, even amidst trials and discomfort. She knew God's peace in a way I hope I will some day. Her home was part of me, that tiny shack she called her patchwork palace, made up of combined pieces of other shacks and homesteads, heated by a coal stove. She never seemed to mind the fact that she couldn't grow flowers in that dusty soil.
How is she a part of me? She prayed for me, I think every day. She invited me into her life, and shared this talent for writing, whther through genes or just through a mutual interest. She'd show me her publications, and tell me about the marketing. The last time I saw her, we talked about the time it takes. How it's easy to write, because that's the fun part. But marketing is a whole different ballgame. And she probably had more success than I ever will. She wrote thousands of articles for the newpaper, the Montana magazine, and senior citizens news. Her poetry is so poingnet and masterful. And while most of the world never gets to see it, I do. And I'm better for it.
I miss her all the time. Those wrinkled laugh lines and sheepish smile. The softness of her voice. Her silly jokes and the way she always found happiness amidst the dust. The baked bread. The coal dust that covered everything in her house.
The generosity and grace which came out of her content heart.
I'd give everything to be able to sit at the table and play Scrabble again, just one last time.
And I think I will, if games are a part of heaven. And there, it won't matter that she takes twenty minutes to put down a 70-point word every turn.
There, she won't have to use a walker or be in pain, or wade her way through clutter and junk, or open the window for a better breeze and wish the bugs weren't flying in. There, we'll just worship together.
I like to imagine her up there, rocking babies while she waits for the rest of us. My brother Daniel, my daughter Grace. My cousin, John, who would be 35 if he were here. I think she probably makes them soup, too, since something that delicious could only come from heaven.
Why do we miss our grandmas so much when they leave? Because they're a part of us. And her spirit of fortitude, and the joy she showed, her quiet devotion to God and her family, will always be a part of me. Save me a seat up there, Grandma.
WHY WEEPEST THOU?
By Dorothy Rustebakke
Dewdrops glistened on the bud
As Mary walked in grief,
Seeing not the quickened bough
Nor yet the bright new leaf.
But as she walked in sorrow there,
Blinded by her tears,
Her risen Lord spoke words to her
That echo through the years.
And all who grieve for loved ones lost
Find comfort even now,
Remembering the gentle voice
That asked, "Why weepest thou?"
One year ago, I was in the RV headed up to my grandma's funeral with my family, my older brother and a cousin. With such heavy hearts, we laid her to rest in the family plot, next to ancestors and baby grandchildren gone too soon. It was the first funeral I've been to where I felt great personal loss at the goodbye. because grandmas, they're just always part of your life. Whether you know them well or not. You're part of them. They're a piece of the stability you know, and part of who you are.
My grandma, Dorthy Mae, was this amazing woman who learned the joy of contentment, even amidst trials and discomfort. She knew God's peace in a way I hope I will some day. Her home was part of me, that tiny shack she called her patchwork palace, made up of combined pieces of other shacks and homesteads, heated by a coal stove. She never seemed to mind the fact that she couldn't grow flowers in that dusty soil.
How is she a part of me? She prayed for me, I think every day. She invited me into her life, and shared this talent for writing, whther through genes or just through a mutual interest. She'd show me her publications, and tell me about the marketing. The last time I saw her, we talked about the time it takes. How it's easy to write, because that's the fun part. But marketing is a whole different ballgame. And she probably had more success than I ever will. She wrote thousands of articles for the newpaper, the Montana magazine, and senior citizens news. Her poetry is so poingnet and masterful. And while most of the world never gets to see it, I do. And I'm better for it.
I miss her all the time. Those wrinkled laugh lines and sheepish smile. The softness of her voice. Her silly jokes and the way she always found happiness amidst the dust. The baked bread. The coal dust that covered everything in her house.
The generosity and grace which came out of her content heart.
I'd give everything to be able to sit at the table and play Scrabble again, just one last time.
And I think I will, if games are a part of heaven. And there, it won't matter that she takes twenty minutes to put down a 70-point word every turn.
There, she won't have to use a walker or be in pain, or wade her way through clutter and junk, or open the window for a better breeze and wish the bugs weren't flying in. There, we'll just worship together.
I like to imagine her up there, rocking babies while she waits for the rest of us. My brother Daniel, my daughter Grace. My cousin, John, who would be 35 if he were here. I think she probably makes them soup, too, since something that delicious could only come from heaven.
Why do we miss our grandmas so much when they leave? Because they're a part of us. And her spirit of fortitude, and the joy she showed, her quiet devotion to God and her family, will always be a part of me. Save me a seat up there, Grandma.
WHY WEEPEST THOU?
By Dorothy Rustebakke
Dewdrops glistened on the bud
As Mary walked in grief,
Seeing not the quickened bough
Nor yet the bright new leaf.
But as she walked in sorrow there,
Blinded by her tears,
Her risen Lord spoke words to her
That echo through the years.
And all who grieve for loved ones lost
Find comfort even now,
Remembering the gentle voice
That asked, "Why weepest thou?"
Saturday, July 09, 2011
Kim, the Scrabble Warrior
The other night I met with my friend from high school. Really, she's one of only a couple who are left that I still stay in contact with. Thanks to facebook I keep tabs on several friends, but really Kim's the one I see most often. We meet every couple of months to play Scrabble and catch up.
Even though I beat her by about 50 points this time around, we're pretty equally matched in Scrabble so it makes it more fun. What I like about Kim, aside from her being plaina wesome, is that she really hasn't changed a lot. And i don't feel like I have either. so when we hang out, I don't feel like I have to impress her or prove anything.
She is immensly more talented, smart and successful than i am/was/ever will be so I'm just glad she still likes me.
I met her in freshman math class. we were in this block so we had all four of our afternoon classes together, along with band in the morning. We met because our mutual friends didn't really understand math. We were all in on that together, since our teacher really only cared about baseball.
After that year we had several more classes together. The most memorable being the humanities/history block, and AP Chemistry. What sucked was that she always got better grades than me, no matter who worked harder. Actually she was usually the one working harder. Which proves how much smarter she was. She ended up being valedictorian. I sat somewhere in the middle of the class, doing what I needed to to get by.
we have a lot of great memories. One of the best is how we used to make faces at each other when we were giving speeches. It usually involved this ridiculous thing from Monty Python's Flying Circus "And now for something completely different. A man with a tape recorder up his nose." Yeah. It's hilarious.
We also passed from class to class chanting things about our teachers. That was awesome. we were awesome. The rest of the world didn't understand. We weren't popular. And we just didn't care.
Now, married with two kids each, we're still awesome. And that's what keeps me going back to get slaughtered at Scrabble once in a whlie. Because I like people who don't make me feel like I need to be a certain way. Who know the "real me" so to speak. And she does. Or at least, the part of me that wore moose slippers to school, made fun of teachers, wrote hilarious notes, nearly failed math, and who had her own agenda. Sometimes I miss those days. Most of the time I'm glad we're not there anymore.
oh, and unrelated to this post, she is also part owner of the local Beef O'Brady's, as well as the manager. Which might be the only claim to fame I actually have at this time in life. If you'd even call it fame.
Even though I beat her by about 50 points this time around, we're pretty equally matched in Scrabble so it makes it more fun. What I like about Kim, aside from her being plaina wesome, is that she really hasn't changed a lot. And i don't feel like I have either. so when we hang out, I don't feel like I have to impress her or prove anything.
She is immensly more talented, smart and successful than i am/was/ever will be so I'm just glad she still likes me.
I met her in freshman math class. we were in this block so we had all four of our afternoon classes together, along with band in the morning. We met because our mutual friends didn't really understand math. We were all in on that together, since our teacher really only cared about baseball.
After that year we had several more classes together. The most memorable being the humanities/history block, and AP Chemistry. What sucked was that she always got better grades than me, no matter who worked harder. Actually she was usually the one working harder. Which proves how much smarter she was. She ended up being valedictorian. I sat somewhere in the middle of the class, doing what I needed to to get by.
we have a lot of great memories. One of the best is how we used to make faces at each other when we were giving speeches. It usually involved this ridiculous thing from Monty Python's Flying Circus "And now for something completely different. A man with a tape recorder up his nose." Yeah. It's hilarious.
We also passed from class to class chanting things about our teachers. That was awesome. we were awesome. The rest of the world didn't understand. We weren't popular. And we just didn't care.
Now, married with two kids each, we're still awesome. And that's what keeps me going back to get slaughtered at Scrabble once in a whlie. Because I like people who don't make me feel like I need to be a certain way. Who know the "real me" so to speak. And she does. Or at least, the part of me that wore moose slippers to school, made fun of teachers, wrote hilarious notes, nearly failed math, and who had her own agenda. Sometimes I miss those days. Most of the time I'm glad we're not there anymore.
oh, and unrelated to this post, she is also part owner of the local Beef O'Brady's, as well as the manager. Which might be the only claim to fame I actually have at this time in life. If you'd even call it fame.
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Christian Hippies, guitars, and Petra
So I spent the weekend in the RV with my husband, two of his brothers, his dad, and my sister-in-law at a music festival in the middle of a cornfield.
It was 95 degrees and as humid as an indoor pool. We hung out under tents most of the time, listening to different obscure bands playing. And it was SO FUN!
I've named cornerstone the Christian Hippie Fest, because really the flour and fauna made me feel a little... too normal. Conservative and... old, actually. It was great, though. I think about 10,000 people attend, and everyone camps out all over the place for four days, playing music, going to seminars, and enjoying concerts.
They had a Jesus fest this year, bringing in some older bands and artists from the late 60's and 70's. That part was cool, because I'm kind of intrigued by the history of the Jesus movement and the social conditions that made room for such a big movement. My parents and my aunt and uncle were part of it. And the music at the festival Thursday night took us back to that time. Barry McGuire was great, so friendly and personable. He just talked and shared and sang in between. Randy Stonehill was a dork but I like a lot of his music. And he talked about Keith Green, which was cool.
There were some other bands I wasn't super familiar with, and I enjoyed listening to them. But the best part of that night was Classic Petra. If you know anything about Christian music, you know Petra. They were one of the first, maybe the first, Christian rock band. They retired a few years ago, but now some of the old members have reuninted to recover some of their old songs. So they were there, and their show was better than I ever imagined it would be. I'm not even a big Petra fan, but thanks to my pseudo-roommmate freshman year of college, I knew most of the songs they sang. And they were awesome.
Have you seen the Rolling Stones preform lately? They don't got nothin' on Petra. They were so good, so finely tuned and tight together. And Greg X Voltz can still bring it vocally. He hit all of the notes. It was so fun. And the best part was being with my brother-in-law who is a die-hard 80's rock fan. We all danced and sang, only about 50 feet from the stage. This is us. My brother-in-law on the right, and my sister-in-law on my left. And my father-in-law, sleeping in his lawn chair behind us. LOL!
Then there was Phil Keaggy. And he absolutely rules. The guy's probably 65 or older, and he still sounds like he did at age 20. And the guitar. Amazing. We had a rare treat because he sang with his old band Glass Harp, too. That made it even cooler.
I don't know why I'm writing all of this out. Probably most of you just aren't interested in knowing about my Cornerstone experience. But, the coolest part about it is the general atmosphere of the hippies and goths and punks who hang out there. Everyone's nice and friendly, and you can wear/do anything crazy that you want. Partly because you don't know anyone, and mostly because no one cares. I don't have the picture of my awesome hat I wore. Let's just say, it was my grandma's, and it folds up like a fan. I love having a chance to be a dork.
And I loved seeing the bands. It was so fun!
And, thankfully, the RV had air conditioning, or it would not have been NEARLY as awesome.
It was 95 degrees and as humid as an indoor pool. We hung out under tents most of the time, listening to different obscure bands playing. And it was SO FUN!
I've named cornerstone the Christian Hippie Fest, because really the flour and fauna made me feel a little... too normal. Conservative and... old, actually. It was great, though. I think about 10,000 people attend, and everyone camps out all over the place for four days, playing music, going to seminars, and enjoying concerts.
They had a Jesus fest this year, bringing in some older bands and artists from the late 60's and 70's. That part was cool, because I'm kind of intrigued by the history of the Jesus movement and the social conditions that made room for such a big movement. My parents and my aunt and uncle were part of it. And the music at the festival Thursday night took us back to that time. Barry McGuire was great, so friendly and personable. He just talked and shared and sang in between. Randy Stonehill was a dork but I like a lot of his music. And he talked about Keith Green, which was cool.
There were some other bands I wasn't super familiar with, and I enjoyed listening to them. But the best part of that night was Classic Petra. If you know anything about Christian music, you know Petra. They were one of the first, maybe the first, Christian rock band. They retired a few years ago, but now some of the old members have reuninted to recover some of their old songs. So they were there, and their show was better than I ever imagined it would be. I'm not even a big Petra fan, but thanks to my pseudo-roommmate freshman year of college, I knew most of the songs they sang. And they were awesome.
Have you seen the Rolling Stones preform lately? They don't got nothin' on Petra. They were so good, so finely tuned and tight together. And Greg X Voltz can still bring it vocally. He hit all of the notes. It was so fun. And the best part was being with my brother-in-law who is a die-hard 80's rock fan. We all danced and sang, only about 50 feet from the stage. This is us. My brother-in-law on the right, and my sister-in-law on my left. And my father-in-law, sleeping in his lawn chair behind us. LOL!
Then there was Phil Keaggy. And he absolutely rules. The guy's probably 65 or older, and he still sounds like he did at age 20. And the guitar. Amazing. We had a rare treat because he sang with his old band Glass Harp, too. That made it even cooler.
I don't know why I'm writing all of this out. Probably most of you just aren't interested in knowing about my Cornerstone experience. But, the coolest part about it is the general atmosphere of the hippies and goths and punks who hang out there. Everyone's nice and friendly, and you can wear/do anything crazy that you want. Partly because you don't know anyone, and mostly because no one cares. I don't have the picture of my awesome hat I wore. Let's just say, it was my grandma's, and it folds up like a fan. I love having a chance to be a dork.
And I loved seeing the bands. It was so fun!
And, thankfully, the RV had air conditioning, or it would not have been NEARLY as awesome.
Sunday, July 03, 2011
I've got the Hots
We just went through a horrific heat wave. It was 95+ and about a billion percent humidity. I also happened to be at an outdoor music festival at the same time. We camped with our RV so thankfully there was air conditioning in it, but while we were listening to music and enjoying the aura of crazy Christian hippies, we sweated through our clothes and got caked in dusty mud. I will write more about that later.
Today I was thinking about this hot weather. I hate it. I've always hated it. But, my mom, being who she is, sometimes would make hot days fun for us when we were kids.
We lived in a rented farm house with no air conditioning. So when the weather got into the 90's, she'd take us to the library or the mall to hang out during the hottest part of the day.
We also had an incredible wading pool--a metal water tank for cattle. It was bigger than most wading pools, and deeper too. We'd fill that up and spend hours outside splashing around.
I remember one really great day when we went to the library, and then we came home with all three Star Wars movies. My parents always blocked off the living room and turned on the window air conditioner, so it would make that one room cool enough to live in. So we stayed in that room with our books and legos and other activities, with Return of the Jedi playing in the background. Mom and I worked on these little clay flowers she was using to make a craft. Then, when bed time came, we all brought our blankets and pillows downstairs and camped out on the floor in the living room.
My parents slept up in their room with the baby, since they had an air conditioner in their window. But for me and my brothers, it was party time. I LOVED those hot nights like that. And I always think of it when we have hot days. I sort of miss that simplicity in my life. We just dropped $2500 for a new central AC in our house, since our other one burned out. Maybe we should have sprung for new windows instead and just enjoyed some more nights camping out in the living room.
Today I was thinking about this hot weather. I hate it. I've always hated it. But, my mom, being who she is, sometimes would make hot days fun for us when we were kids.
We lived in a rented farm house with no air conditioning. So when the weather got into the 90's, she'd take us to the library or the mall to hang out during the hottest part of the day.
We also had an incredible wading pool--a metal water tank for cattle. It was bigger than most wading pools, and deeper too. We'd fill that up and spend hours outside splashing around.
I remember one really great day when we went to the library, and then we came home with all three Star Wars movies. My parents always blocked off the living room and turned on the window air conditioner, so it would make that one room cool enough to live in. So we stayed in that room with our books and legos and other activities, with Return of the Jedi playing in the background. Mom and I worked on these little clay flowers she was using to make a craft. Then, when bed time came, we all brought our blankets and pillows downstairs and camped out on the floor in the living room.
My parents slept up in their room with the baby, since they had an air conditioner in their window. But for me and my brothers, it was party time. I LOVED those hot nights like that. And I always think of it when we have hot days. I sort of miss that simplicity in my life. We just dropped $2500 for a new central AC in our house, since our other one burned out. Maybe we should have sprung for new windows instead and just enjoyed some more nights camping out in the living room.
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