The Mock Turtle's Song

#8 from Alice in Wonderland / Through the Looking Glass

The Mock Turtle described to Alice what the ocean fishes study in their schools:

Reeling and Writhing

Ambition and Distraction, Uglification and Derision

of Mystery, both ancient and modern as well as Sea-ography

in Art classes, they study drawling and stretching along with fainting in coils

The wisest fish always have a porpoise.

Lewis Carroll's wit and sense of humor have always fascinated me. As with some of the animated films produced in my lifetime, his stories are popular with children but also hold value and fun for adults. I find myself mentally chewing on various parts at the oddest times! For example, just yesterday I completed the knitting of what I thought was a pair of gloves only to discover I'd made both for the same hand. Normally it wouldn't matter except I worked in a pretty design for the back of the hands leaving the palms plain. When the time came for me to divide stitches to create the thumbs, I was not as focused as I thought and ended up creating both gloves for the left hand! Looking back at the time when I was working on that portion of the pattern, I realize I was distracted. In my ambition to get them done as quickly as possible, I was unable to accomplish something that is usually a simple mental exercise for me. The good news is that there is yarn enough to make a single right-hand glove. Whew!

Ambition accompanied by Distraction, not a good combination!

This past week has been one of many distractions. On Monday, Elisa and I left the house in mid-morning with baby Summer for a trip to the Children's Museum. I was the designated driver since Lisa's ankle isn't completely healed and she was still wearing the 'boot'. With a season pass to the museum in hand, we were thinking Summer would enjoy an opportunity to run about and explore the various exhibits made with little ones in mind, but on our arrival we discovered the museum is closed on Mondays this time of year. Plan B: OMSI - it is also closed on Mondays. In our enthusiasm and distraction, we'd failed to call ahead. So we looked at Plan C: the Lloyd Center. The mall is never closed! By the time we found a parking place somewhat close to the door to accommodate Lisa's halted gait, rented a stroller painted to look like a lady bug, and walked down one corridor, it was time for a diaper change and lunch. While we were deciding what we wanted to eat, Lisa's phone rang with a call from her surgeon's office that lasted about twenty minutes. Fortunately, she'd packed some chips and a peanut butter sandwich for Summer so the baby was contented to munch while she and I did some quality people watching. The three of us then enjoyed eating Chinese food, wandering in and out of the dozens of stores, and drooling over some fabulous rings while we had our engagement rings cleaned. Exploring the new store that now occupies the spot where the Disney store used to be was fun; it is now a pirate themed store! We were somewhat puzzled though that among the various pirate hats and accessories we found the Mad Hatter's top hat as well as a fireman's helmet. It seemed curious to me that the fascination of skating was so obvious on Summer's face as we passed the skating rink inside the mall. I don't think she's ever seen her father on his hockey skates nor her older sister on her figure skates but she was definitely interested in the activity on the ice that day.

Monday evening we had a cordial family meeting with the cute boy next door and his mother so that we could discuss and clarify various rules and expectations where young men and young ladies are concerned. It is good to be on the same page and we are all hopeful and optimistic.

Tuesday was set aside for a trip to the pediatrician to get Summer's next set of immunizations. She is definitely a child of this decade! With Lisa's iPhone, she can find her favorite apps that are matching and counting games and we discovered she also can find Netflix from which she brings up her favorite movies from Lisa's queue. Without any guidance, she found and started watching the movie UP! Such a little girl has surpassed my ability to maneuver through the various screens and I really was not aware that I had entered into 'old age' until I saw how simple it all is for her. Curiouser and curiouser! However, I will NOT give up my muchness without a fight!

The highlight of this week for me was learning to do French braids. Valerie has such a beautiful head of long hair and it was fun practicing with it. I'm not very good yet but am confident I'll improve with each attempt.

Thursday morning, I went with Tim and Lisa to the hospital where she was to have her shoulder surgery. Sitting in a hospital waiting room by yourself somehow makes time drag and I figured I can knit there as well as anywhere so I volunteered to go along to keep Tim company. Though the designated area for short stay surgeries is busy and rather noisy, we passed the eight hours pleasantly enough. At least the chairs and room temperature weren't uncomfortable. Even the cafeteria food was acceptable and the surgeon was pleased with the outcome of the surgery. However, there is a bit of ugliness I hope they'll change soon. Each group of family and friends waiting is given a beeper similar to those handed out in some of the busier restaurants. When the surgical procedure is completed, the device summons the family to a meeting with the surgeon via an annoying and offensive beeping that can be heard throughout the entire large room. Later, when the patient awakens from the anesthesia, it jolts everyone in the room to attention again. With twenty to thirty surgical patients coming and going throughout the day, that's a lot of ugly noise. Over the years I've become accustomed to hospital waiting rooms having an aura similar to that of a public library, not a bus terminal.

I'd really like to stop the uglification and I'm trying to understand where the vocabulary of derision I hear around the house has come from. Do teenage girls just naturally speak so negatively? I'm not used to hearing comments like "I hate her" or "she's so stupid/ugly" and "he's weird" or "you're such a jerk" or "I'm SUPPOSED to ignore adults because I'm a teenager" and "It's okay (to ignore you/not listen/do what I want) because I'm cute" or "I wear shirts that expose most of my breasts because this is the style" and "what an idiot!" or "you're retarded" and "she's a whore". The insults fly from her mouth toward everyone without a thought to any pain they might cause. And if she speaks this way openly at home, what is she saying at school? This, in my opinion, is a case of a young woman's muchness heading in the wrong direction. I wonder if she ever listens to herself and whether this tendency can be guided back to kindness and gentleness. I'm pretty certain her sisters and parents don't appreciate her negative comments but they don't encourage her to stop either. I am grateful that the use of foul words has been curbed as I requested before they moved in here. Perhaps the way Ray and I address each other with respect will ultimately have an affect on this behavior? For now, comments like these jar my nerves much like the beepers at the hospital. I'm thinking of starting a Swear Jar but having it be for insults instead. How would that work when nobody has any money to put into it? Feel free to send me a comment if you have any suggestions!

A good kind of ambition was exhibited this week. Valerie learned to make pie crust and deviled eggs. Chelsea learned to make my creamed corn casserole! If they learn nothing else from me, they'll at least have some food items they can prepare with confidence.

I'm looking for recipes that will produce a magical cake that increases modesty, good behavior, self-confidence, gentleness and kindness toward others as well as a cookie that will decrease bad language, laziness, selfishness and acting without thinking first.
Has anyone seen the white rabbit's hole around here?

My Pancake Theory

#7 My Pancake Theory

A few years ago I experienced an epiphany; I call it the Pancake Theory. If you’ve ever made pancakes, you know that once the batter has gotten to the point where it is bubbling, you can flip it over and continue to cook until it is ready to put on a plate to enjoy with butter & syrup.

It is up to us how we choose to consider them. If you look at a pancake closely, you’ll see that one side of it is smooth and golden and actually rather pretty; the other side not so much. We tend to serve pancakes with the pretty side showing just as we present ourselves to others with the pretty side of us showing. When shopping we are shown the pretty side of the things for sale, the benefits, the perks, the admiration we can expect from our associates, etc. Seldom will a sales person point out the responsibilities, the commitment, the overall cost of ownership, what we often call the downside or the bottom of the pancake.

The interesting thing to me is that so many things, people and events are like pancakes: they have a pretty top and a not-so-pretty underside, BUT you can’t have one without the other! Every left has a right. Every east has a west. Every bad has a good. I suppose if one has a large enough bank balance, one could purchase an item and pay another to care for the downside so that only the good and pretty parts can be enjoyed but there’s a potential downside even to that!

It is my belief that it is up to us to choose whether we will accept the two sides as they are while placing our energy and emphasis on the top, pretty, good, or whatever positive parts we perceive.

For example, in our new craziness, my personal pancake (life) now includes many more people. I love seeing the excitement in their eyes when I offer to cook something I know they’ll enjoy such as the beef and noodles with mashed potatoes I’ll be making for dinner tomorrow. I’m tickled when one of the girls comes to me for a hug or to share something on their heart. I see their smiles when they make an effort to say Please or Thank You knowing I appreciate it. I like very much how they come looking for me when they arrive home from school in the afternoons. The bottom side of the pancake is that I have less quiet time for reading and knitting than I did before and there are so many interruptions!

We now have our multi-talented Tim here to repair and replace things that have been needing attention but we also have his bride who often behaves like a teenager herself. Don’t get me wrong, I love Elisa. We just think differently about many things and I have to work hard at adjusting to the drama, impulsive decisions and volume when I’m around her. It is my strong wish that we can find a middle ground where we are both comfortable. I’m very aware that I’m not used to her level of chatter. I did take a couple of days for myself where I stayed mostly in my room where it was quiet and I could recharge my batteries. I’d been using up my reserves pretty fast and had to give myself a time out to avoid a meltdown.

The craziness continues! Valerie walked to the park with Peter (the cute boy next door) on Saturday afternoon. When it began to rain, they started back. Val slipped on an oily puddle and fell hitting the back of her head pretty hard. That knocked the sense right out of her and when Peter guided her into the house, she had no idea what had happened, what day it was or where she had been. That definitely got our attention! Her eyes were dilated and she was disoriented. However, with Tim’s Army training as a medic, we settled her on the couch with an ice bag where she could be quiet and watched her for anything that would indicate a trip to the hospital might be necessary. She’s had a lingering headache and a stiff neck and back but seems to be recovering with the help of some Tylenol.

I fixed myself a glass of chocolate milk on Sunday evening. When Heidi saw what I had she coyly asked if she could have some too. She seemed to think that simpering and batting her eyes at me would convince me to say yes. I know Heidi abhors anything that resembles work and so to test how badly she wanted a glass of chocolate milk, I said I’d be glad to make one for her if she’d clean my bathroom sink for me. Without hesitation she declined the trade and went on her way to other things. A little while later, I announced to everyone that I’d finally gotten Heidi to do some work for me and she was working really hard. All eyes were on me immediately. Then I explained that I’d hired her as a virtual waitress in my Facebook game called Café World. We all enjoyed a laugh, including Heidi who readily admits her aversion to work in any form. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who could stretch clumsily folding a basket of her own clean laundry to more than an hour like she often does. She’s just not motivated about anything but being cute and having fun. But then, like the proverbial pancake, that’s the downside of Heidi. The other side of her is good-natured, funny, loving and very loyal to her sisters. I get the impression she’s not afraid of anything (except maybe calloused hands).

One top side of our crazy new arrangement is having lovely young women all around us. The bottom is the amount of water being used for the extra showers and laundry. The girls have never lived anywhere that water was not free and plentiful. Our city charges for water usage by the gallon while the apartments they moved from did not and so as a result, we’re working on a strategy to encourage the girls to reduce the amount of time they spend in the shower each day. I’ve lost track of the number of times our large hot water heater has been emptied since their arrival. These girls do love their long hot showers! Tomorrow Lisa and I are going to conduct a class on how to shave one’s legs using just a single gallon of water. Now that could prove to be hilarious! I’m realizing more every day how fortunate I am for having all male children; they are so much easier to bring up!

I like pancakes. I especially like them when the smooth golden pretty side is on top. But then, doesn’t everyone?

My Tipping Point

#6 Tuesday, Sept 5, 2010

To Drive or Not To Drive

Ray and I attended a presentation at church this evening led by a friend who retired a few years ago. He had worked as a geologist for major oil companies and was able to help the group of about 35 of us understand how Big Oil works. We learned the difference between resources and oil reserves, what the cost of a barrel of oil really means and a little of the progress being made using technology and new drilling methods. Mostly though, I was reminded how the choices we make as individuals and families impact more than just ourselves. He said something that really stuck in my head, “We tend to buy our son or daughter a car on their sixteenth birthday because that is what WE wanted at that age.”

As Chelsea’s seventeenth birthday approaches this month, I’m asking “what does a girl her age want?” Perhaps I should focus that a little differently? Maybe the question should be multi-faceted and include “what will make her happy?”, “what does she need to help her along toward adulthood?”, “what gift will give her a sense of how special she is?”, “what can I do that she’ll remember years from now with fondness and perhaps a smile?”, “what can I afford?” She’s not yet interested in driving so anything to do with that isn’t even in the picture at this time. I thought perhaps she’d enjoy going to the mall with her friends as I’ve seen many teens doing that, however, she feels a trip like that would be depressing and the opposite of fun. When I urged her to explain, she shared that when she sees all the clothes, jewelry, accessories, cosmetics, and such she just gets depressed because she’d love to have money in her pocket for buying new things. That problem could be solved by her getting an after-school job and I’m hoping something like that is in her future. But for now, a job isn’t nearly as important as getting her grades up.

I totally get her comment about a trip to the mall being depressing. I’ve felt that way for several years now. I’ve become quite a hermit simply because when I go out anywhere, I’m constantly reminded how bleak our financial situation has been since returning to Oregon in July of 2008. When there is little or no hope of change and the outlook continues to look bleak as it has for so long, I become depressed and very sad. It isn’t that the doors of opportunity are closed, there just aren’t any doors! The dark cloud of depression frequently surrounds me and there’s not a smile within me to be found. People talk about trips they’ve just taken or are planning, places where they’ve recently enjoyed a great meal, remodeling or redecorating rooms in their homes, buying new appliances or vehicles, new gadgets like iPads and Kindles they are excited about, and so on. I try to be happy for them but haven’t the energy required to push down my sorrow while trying to share in their enthusiasm. Month after month we’ve had to focus on additional ways to cut expenses such as giving up magazine and newspaper subscriptions, getting haircuts at the beauty college for $5 rather than going to our usual stylists, resigning from choir because that extra trip each week to rehearsals took more gas than we could buy, and on and on it has gone. When the Yankees played the Mariners in Seattle this summer, I was so depressed because my team was nearby and I knew there was no way I could go to a game this year. Ray’s golf clubs are covered with dust. When Neil Diamond came to Portland, I was gloomy for days and didn’t even get dressed the day of his concert here. So many days are passing with the two of us stuck in this financial disaster of our lives. I miss my family so much and mourn each passing month as a lost opportunity to see those little grandsons growing up. And now that we’ve exhausted every financial resource we had, I fear it will take the rest of our lives to dig out of debt. This despair is an awful thing. The anger I feel most of the time is awful. My therapist told me that the majority of suicides don’t want to die; they just want the pain to stop. Well, I’m way beyond wanting the pain to stop and have seriously considered that option. I’m not going in that direction though because I KNOW the pain it causes those left behind and I refuse to punish my family and friends that way. I’m just hanging on looking for an alternative.

There are surely others around who have similar troubles. Perhaps someone else has been through a period like this and we could use our empathy to guide or teach each other how to survive? I find no comfort in the idea of God walking beside me through this; I don’t want a companion, I want relief! I want this all to be over one way or another. Many are praying for us but if their petitions are making any difference, I can’t see it. In my humanity, I am impatient and perhaps immature as I want to demand my own agenda rather than wait on the Almighty’s timeframe.

Someone asked why I haven’t been getting Disability income. To get into that scene, one has to have medical record numbers, names & contact info for all past doctors and therapists, a list of prescribed drugs and dosages taken and more. Because we’ve moved several times in the last ten years, I’ve lost most of that and cannot remember the names of my doctors and certainly don’t remember any of the specific dates. One benefit of having had a great therapist, I’ve learned to recognize it when I get too close to my own tipping point. Just wish Barbara hadn’t shredded my immense file a couple years ago. Those records would have been a big help getting some financial help.

So today I’m working on a list of my choices. I’m not going to give up but I might take a mental break so my reserves don’t get any lower than they are. Like the earth’s oil supply, I have mental and physical energy reserves and resources. If I'm to be a contributing member of society, I must be a good steward of them and not be wasteful. My flame may be dim and flickering at times, but I will not let it go out!

Mama Bear doesn't hibernate

#5

Mama Bear doesn't just cook porridge and go for walks.

Until Ray and I became foster parents a few years ago, I'd never heard an angry protective mother described this way but I recognized her within myself immediately! My goodness, can she ever growl when provoked!

Our first foster daughter came to us in a flurry of excitement two years after we became empty-nesters. A friend of mine trained to counsel abused children and help them work through their pain saw a lot of kids in the foster care system. One afternoon she came to me and said there was a girl who needed to be in a different home ASAP and there was nobody to take her. We had a guest bedroom, and we had time. There was no reason other than laziness on our part that would prompt us to decline and every reason to say a hearty Yes! The case worker saw us that evening, we filled out the forms while she inspected our house for the safety features required, and we were approved by the next morning. I picked our daughter up the next afternoon and for nearly four months she got to enjoy being an only child and a 'kid' without having to look after her younger siblings. Just a few days before Christmas, she and her sisters were adopted together and we had the privilege of being part of that wonderful experience.

That year Mama Bear first showed up when I tackled getting glasses for her that would not only fit her face but look pretty. An assortment of plastic frames provided by welfare are available but not a single pair in her size was in the least bit feminine. Somehow putting a man's frame on her cute freckled face irritated me and I wasn't going to cave. Fortunately the Lion's Club came through for her and we got a pair she liked, what she would wear and a pair she wouldn't lose on purpose. The forty dollar difference between the welfare glasses and the pair she wanted was covered by a little known grant I found. Hooray for our girl!

Now that young lady is nineteen and she's in 'love' with a registered sex offender twice her age. I really hope I don't have to meet him face to face because I have no idea how Mama Bear will behave; it could get really ugly. My heart hurts for her as I contemplate the direction she's going. She seems happy enough living with him and his mother even though he has no steady job and few prospects. The limitations his felony conviction places on their choices doesn't compute for her yet. I'm so glad she still wants me in her life via Facebook. I want to be optimistic but for now, I'm holding my cards close to my chest as I wait to see how this hand plays out. For now, Mama Bear is simply pacing and watching and praying.

I have a sign in my kitchen that says, "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." Sometimes I have to remind those around me about that and will give a warning if things are going a bad way. Seems they know right away when I say, "Mama isn't very happy!" that something better change pretty soon or I'm going to get very growly. (chuckle here)

Have you noticed that women have a certain look their family members recognize right away that shouts without words I DON"T LIKE THIS!! My mother has one and my sister has a look that cracks me up when I see it though I don't think she appreciates me laughing when she exhibits it. It just comes so naturally to mothers! I haven't seen my own 'look' but I'm pretty sure I have one too. I'm curious whether there's a DNA marker for that and won't be one bit surprised if there is. The good news is that the teenage girls now living here have only seen mine once and that was when Heidi came down to ask my opinion about an outfit she was considering wearing for school. I'm sure that disapproving Mama Bear look was unmistakable as I explained what I didn't like about the off-the-shoulder shiny blue top accompanied by several strands of beads on a 14 year old. I don't believe nightclub attire is appropriate for school and especially not on a ninth grader!

However, this Mama Bear was smiling tonight as she pulled a 13x9 pan of golden corn bread out of the new oven Tim & Lisa brought with them. More than two years without an oven in which I could actually bake something has prompted me to make a number of my favorite things this past week. Along with the chili that had simmered several hours in the slow cooker, I enjoyed three pieces of luscious corn bread smeared with real butter and grape jam. HEAVENLY!!

The Den is quiet now. The cubs are all sleeping and my heart is really full of all kinds of developing feelings for these people under my roof. Mama Bear lurks in readiness to defend her new cubs whenever necessary. Trouble better beware before coming around here!!

Instead of a Beware of Dog sign maybe I should put up a Beware of Mama Bear?

The Next Chapter is Calling Me

#4

As the weekend draws to a close and the house becomes quiet, I'm sitting here gathering my thoughts and find that rather than being tired, I'm feeling energized. Here it is, one o'clock in the morning and I'm wide awake. Maybe it is due to those two graham crackers sandwiches with a thick layer of chocolate frosting I spread in the middle about an hour ago but I'll never admit to that, you know. (wink)

Tim got word that he won't be going to Utah for that Army class until January so he got on the phone right away and secured an interview with an agency that provides temporary staff for Intel. He will know in a couple of days whether they will send him for a temporary full time job assembling computers or installing and testing software at one of the sites about ten miles from here. He's been taking courses online with a focus on those skills and is hopeful he can gain some experience this way. I think he's pretty level headed to see that getting experience in that field before he earns a degree will give him an edge later on. The practical experience may also help him absorb the materials easier. I am amazed that he's receiving top marks in spite of the family situation and have gained even more respect for his approach to life. The good news in all that for us is he's going to be here to finish the Man Cave and other projects!

Lisa has been wearing her 'boot' more and it appears her leg is healing. At least, when she's taking the pain pills and wearing it, she can get around with the walker and is able to do more for herself. Between using the cold packs and the hot tub, she says it feels less stiff and is less tender. She gets down the stairs on her bottom and climbs up on her knees. That seems to be less irritating for her injured shoulder. Shoulder surgery is now scheduled for October 24 or somewhere around there.

Heidi and Chelsea went into the city to spend two nights with Destiny, a teen friend of theirs. The three went to visit Destiny's grandmother who rents an apartment at the complex where the kids used to live. The new manager confronted Chelsea soon after the three girls arrived and said she and Heidi weren't welcome there and insisted that they leave immediately. When he threatened to call the police, Chelsea replied that he should go ahead and do that. He insisted they were trespassing and that the police would come and they'd be in big trouble. Chelsea said she replied, "We aren't doing anything wrong. We were invited here by our friend who lives here!" It doesn't appear the manager made the call or perhaps he was informed that they weren't trespassing because the police didn't come and the girls were there for most of the evening. I find it sad that the new manager would feel threatened by two teenage girls. It's difficult to imagine what he thought they might do. Later on that night the girls all went to Destiny's home where they saw other friends and ended up staying up most of the night doing what girls that age do. I doubt they got very much sleep! I believe they had a good time and it sounds like Destiny will be coming out to spend a night or two with us before the end of October.

I made a pot roast with potatoes and baby carrots in the crock pot for dinner Friday night. I mixed four diced tomatoes up with a quart of small curd cottage cheese for a salad. With the gravy and some French bread with the rest, we were all quite contented and swore none of us could eat another bite. I do love my slow cooker! While we were eating Lisa got to talking about her daughter Autumn's figure skating lessons with Olympian Tonya Harding's skating coach a few years ago. It is easy to see in Lisa's face how much she enjoyed watching Autumn skate. She'd like to get Summer signed up for similar lessons before deploying next year (Summer will be two next week). During the conversation, she shared with us the difficulty she had during that time coming up with the $30 per hour for Autumn's lessons and then told us about the $1200 boots that had to be specially made to fit the special blades required and how they can only be made a half size larger to accommodate growing feet. For clarification she explained that new boots must be made whenever the child's feet outgrow the current ones and that an active skater in elementary school can go through three or four sizes in one year. Just thirty minutes later, she was telling me she really should be drinking the MonaVie because she knows it helps her feel better in so many ways but that she just can't afford the $36 a week for it. Would somebody please explain to me how one raises $30/lesson x 3 lessons a week + $200 for beginner skates + costumes + gas for more than 200 miles a week to get to and from those lessons and yet cannot purchase something they are convinced makes a difference for $36 a week? How does one justify being on food stamps, getting free lunches for 3 kids at school and skating lessons for the baby? If I keep scratching this spot above my right ear trying to figure this out, I'm going to have a bald spot!

Ray was invited to lead worship at Bethany Lutheran in Portland again and he'll go there again next Sunday. The congregation is very small there; usually fifteen people or less in worship each time he's been in their pulpit. He received a stipend for helping them out plus mileage which pretty well covers our utility bills. We're very glad to have it, that's for sure! Today the assigned scripture was the parable of the mustard seed and he came home feeling really good about the sermon he delivered. I sure wish he'd get a Call as he enjoys so much what he was trained to do. We've been told he's 'on the radar' in Wisconsin for a congregation that is used to having older pastors. I'm just so tired of this whole long wait. He's convinced he's going to get another church and I've tried to remain positive but I have reached the placed where I don't think he will. The longer we are together with no income, the more it feels like a prison here. I wish there was some indication that the Holy Spirit really was involved and working on our behalf but it just isn't obvious. I do not see having Tim & Lisa + family here as something God orchestrated. Scripture says that a good and loving parent doesn't give his child a serpent when they ask for food but Ray has certainly been handed a serpent where the church is concerned. I just hope I live long enough to look back at this mess and see that God wasn't just watching us struggle. My name is not JOB!

Tim cooked a wonderful breakfast for all of us in the later part of the morning. We enjoyed bacon and sausage, scrambled eggs, pancakes and blueberry muffins! He cooked a LOT of bacon so that we could have BLT sandwiches later on with these wonderful tomatoes. However, when Destiny and her mother brought the girls home, Heidi and Destiny ate several slices of the cold bacon before checking with anyone and there was only enough left to make three skimpy sandwiches for eight people. So we compromised and Tim ordered pizza from Dominoes. We adults will have BLTs tomorrow for lunch while the kids are in school. I've already frozen 34 tomatoes to use in making soup and such this winter and there are still 15 on the counter and at least thirty more already turning red on the vines out there. I'm hearing from others that their tomatoes either didn't ripen yet or their plants just didn't produce very well. Those five plants I put in the space next to the driveway grew up the chain link fence, spread out over the rails onto the concrete and the little green balls continue to grow. They've spread out so much they've enveloped the dahlias and nasturtiums! We've managed to drive over several green tomatoes the size of golf balls as we go in and out. Next year I need to have a better plan so fewer lay on the dirt and rot before I can get them picked. I'm certainly not complaining about this tomato crop; we've enjoyed at least sixty luscious red ones already! Every single one is a special treat that reminds me of summers on my grandparents' farm in central Nebraska.

Destiny's grandmother has been told that drapes and curtains aren't allowed in the apartments now since blinds are provided, nor are window air conditioners because they look tacky. The new 'rules' were handed out on Friday and residents have 30 days to comply or they'll receive a Notice to Vacate. I'm bewildered. A number of the residents are seniors on fixed income that consists mostly of Social Security. Portable air conditioners run $600 to $1000. The apartments get really hot inside without AC. Insulating drapes keep them a little cooler in summer and warmer in winter. These new rules don't make sense to me. Again I'm scratching my head!

And that reminds me of an experience when I was the same age as Heidi and Valerie. My parents took us on a vacation to California where Knott's Berry Farm was one of our stops. I stood on tiptoe to look into an old-fashioned jail cell next to the sheriff's office. Inside was a wooden man dressed as the town drunk. His head tilted up as I looked in and a voice said, "Well, my red-headed tomato has come to see me at last!" I remember vividly how I blushed about that red and wondered where the person was that said that. Everyone around me was laughing but I just wanted to shrink out of sight. Now why do you suppose I remember being called a tomato!!?? I didn't think it was funny back then at all but I laugh about it now.

Valerie has learned to knit and is working diligently on a scarf. I gave her some colorful chunky yarn and size 13 needles. She's got about 16" on the needles already and asked me today if there was yarn enough to make it really long. I told her that yes, there was yarn enough but she'd have to make it narrower than the 10" she's currently got going.

"How do I make it thinner?" she asked.

"You have to frog it and start over with fewer stitches," I replied.

"You want me to rip it out?" she gasped.

"That's the only way to make it thinner. You just begin again with fewer stitches. Perhaps twelve instead of twenty. That's the only way I know to have yarn enough to get the length you want unless you want to buy another ball of yarn for six dollars," I offered.

"Well, I'm not going to take it apart. I guess I'll just have a neck warmer."

She's looking ahead to learning the purl stitch so she can make a hat next. I hope she remembers she's working with wool or her doll might end up with a neck warmer after she washes it!

Peter, the cute boy next door, came over this afternoon to 'hang out' with Valerie. I think we're going to have to monitor closer when he's over here. There's no cable television at his house and it seems all he wants to do when he's here is play with the remote and watch snatches of programs. I finally said, "If you're not going to actually watch something, please find something else to do." We have a Boccie game and his family has a nice flat side yard that would be ideal for it so I'll work that in one afternoon this week. I think they'll enjoy that and the other neighbor Jake can play too if he comes around.

Chelsea and I are growing closer. We've starting exchanging favors. I did two loads of laundry for her that she wouldn't have time for due to spending the weekend with Destiny's family. She's going to dust and vacuum my bedroom. Poor girl thought I was going to be angry tonight when she dropped one of my old Corelware dinner plates and it shattered. Goodness, I've had those plates over 30 years! I think I got my money's worth out of it. Does anybody else have dishes from the 70's they're still using? I am SO glad it broke but just can't throw stuff like that away. You know?

Oh, and I forgot to tell you: the curler experiment failed. Chelsea's hair turned out really weird, not unlike Medusa hair, and would NOT cooperate so she put her head under the faucet and blow-dried it straight for school. She wants to try again though!

I appreciate the comments you've left, my friends, and appreciate even more the prayers on our behalf. Please keep them coming. With your continued support, we WILL make it to the next chapter. Now I'm going to bed with my Anne Rice book because I want to get to the next chapter there too!

Soap Opera?

#3 As the World Turns or Days of Our Lives?

Two years ago I ran an ad on Craig's List for a handyman to help with repairing damage done to our house by renters who lived here. (There are pictures of the damages posted on my Facebook profile.) Out of seven applicants I interviewed, Tim is the one I chose to do the work. He was here nearly every day for six months and we got to know each other pretty well. I became very fond of him; I wanted to adopt him and have him become a permanent part of my family. He's in the same age range as all the other sons in my life and would fit right in! I think I told you he's in the Army Reserves and had recently returned from his third tour in Iraq. He's strong, smart, energetic and very talented with tools. He was definitely an answer to my prayers where this old house was concerned. Little did I know back then that he'd actually come live with us! One really should be very careful regarding what one prays for. I firmly believe prayers are eventually answered but not usually in the manner we anticipate. Tim is living here now but brought five other people, a dog and a lizard with him! Maybe this is related to the scripture about 'shaken down and overflowing'?

If I remember right, the soaps I watched years ago had a way of introducing a new character into the story line by just having them show up as a long lost friend or family member, a doctor making a house call, an investigator following up on a crime or some such ploy. Those cast members usually came into the story one at a time. Our 'soap opera' is more like a season premier of a new sitcom! We have a whole cast of characters suddenly and I'm still trying to regain my balance. Maybe being out of balance is why this feels so much like a circus act at times.

Today for example, I got to know Chelsea a little better. Tim took Lisa to stay with her mother Sandy for the day since little Summer has been over there most all the time since Lisa fell. Ray planned to attend an evening function at the church we've been attending so rather then going to the local knitting shop as I normally would do on a Thursday from 4:30 to 8pm, I stayed home to greet Chelsea, Heidi and Valerie as they returned from school. I was surprised when all three of them came home on the same school bus and I was suddenly surrounded by teenage girl energy and chatter. One minute I was quietly enjoying Chapter 25 of the Witching Hour by Anne Rice and the next minute I'm hearing about a girl at the high school who wants to beat up Chelsea for looking at her. The horror stories Anne Rice has written don't unsettle me but hearing about this bully immediately got my attention. The Mama Bear inside me started to awaken.

Did you know that high school junior girls raid the refrigerator after school the same way boys do? I had no idea. They thunder up and down the stairs with the same volume of noise too as they toss their backpacks into their bedrooms and head for the kitchen. "Oh, good! There's string cheese! Can I make some lemonade? What are we having for dinner? Does anybody else want this piece of pie?"

"Didn't you eat lunch at school?" I asked.

"No, they didn't have anything I wanted," they chorused.

"Could you maybe grab something like fruit you could snack on later? You do qualify for free lunches and having you eat there would certainly help our grocery budget reach farther here."

"Okay, I'll see."

"I'm fixing baked talapia, sliced tomatoes and Mary Post's yams & potatoes for dinner. Valerie can choose a vegetable," I announced. "How much fish will you eat? I want to know how much to fix."

"I want a big portion. I like fish." replied Chelsea.

When I asked Heidi, she indicated a normal size serving would be fine. Valerie simply replied, "I'm just hungry!"

So according to the packages I cooked enough to feed seven and the four of us dainty women ate it all and still had room for ice cream. I wonder who determines portion sizes? They certainly didn't check with us.

Household Rules for teenage girls:

• No guests in the house unless an adult family member is home.
• Before visiting the home of a friend, you must provide that friend's home phone number and street address as well as their first and last name.
• You cannot go inside unless one of their parents are home.
• Young women are not to leave the yard after dark without an escort and a dog does not count as an escort. Our yard does not include the front porch of the house next door where a cute boy lives.
• Girls will be inside the house on school nights by 9:30pm unless with a parent.

Valerie's circle of new friends is growing rapidly. Her after-school errand today was to go to the pet store down the street and get crickets for the lizard. She asked to borrow my bicycle. "Will you wear the helmet?" I asked. She nodded and smiled. Next thing I see, she's peddling next to Peter on his bicycle and they are heading the wrong way down our street. Less than a minute later, they are going the right way but there's another with them. Upon their return with the insects, I am introduced to their classmate Jake who has been in this house before when the renters lived here. He is surprised by the changes we've made. "This is looking really nice!" he exclaimed as the three head downstairs to play video games. Before he left, I got his info and explained the rule about Valerie not being allowed inside his house unless his parent(s) were there. He replied, "We have the same rule at my house," so I feel better about her hanging out with him. Mama Bear showing herself here again.

During dinner Chelsea asked me if I had old-fashioned curlers and would I help her roll her hair tonight. For some reason she wants big curls tomorrow. I can't remember the last time I put rollers in a girl's hair but it must be like riding a bicycle. Once the rat-tail comb was in my hand, the rhythm came right back. I had the glass of water, the bobby-pins and the rollers all right there while she sat in a kitchen chair tipping her head this way and that all the while chatting with me. I learned about her current male friends and one special guy she'd like to see who doesn't live in Oregon. I learned she has a kind heart and is very conscious of her thoughts and opinions. She wants very much to 'do the right thing' whenever she has a choice to make but she also wants to have fun. Ah, the angst of being 16-17 years old.

While working on her hair, I was reminded of the day I went into labor while pregnant with Tony. His Grandma Furne insisted I pin curl her hair before going to the hospital. So between contractions, I managed to shampoo my mother-in-law and get the job done, then settled her under the hair dryer. She was most upset when I said we were off to the hospital because my pains were just ten minutes apart. "Wait!" she said. "My hair isn't dry!" Tony was born about twenty minutes after I entered the labor room. None of his grandparents made it to the hospital before he emerged. I highly recommend working this hair care activity into any birthing day routine as I believe it shortened my labor!

Just before I put in the last rollers for Chelsea, Tim brought Lisa home. He had helped Ray move some boxes of books in the garage earlier today and his back is sore. Tim is convinced that if the Lord Himself had to carry multiple 50 pound boxes of Bibles, he would have grunted and said bad words too. Instead of saying "Oh my God!" though did he say "Oh My Self"? Tim is puzzled why anyone would need as many books as Ray has accumulated. I admitted I am concerned about those 80+ boxes of books still in the garage. Will they ever be read or just carted from house to house growing in quantity with each move? Is there a twelve step program for book-aholics? Am I an enabler? Is there a program for me?

Tim has now carted Lisa down to the Man Cave where they are watching a movie in the dark. Having newlyweds cuddling on the couch is so sweet. Ray returned from the meeting at church and has gone to his office to read email and internet news. Heidi and Valerie are in their respective rooms and all is quiet. Chelsea is preparing herself to try sleeping on those rollers in her hair. I'm going to get up in the morning in time to see her off. I sure hope she likes the outcome! I'll snap a picture to share with you if she'll let me.

All I hear right now is the ticking of the grandfather clock and Gypsy's sighs as she dreams in the recliner nearby. Okay, I'm going to sign off here, finish this chapter of Dark Shadows and then off to bed. No, wait, wrong title. That was a soap opera in the 60's. I'm reading about Lasher and Rowen, not Barnabas Collins and Angelique! Who else remembers those old soaps?

Did Murphy move in too?

#2 - September 29, 2010

Murphy's Law: If anything bad can happen, it will and at the most inconvenient time.

As we gathered around the dinner table to celebrate Lisa's 39th birthday yesterday, I was thinking about these last few days. She'd come home from the Emergency Room wearing one of those fashion boots with the Velcro straps. Nothing was broken but she does have a sprain and stretched tendon in her right ankle from her fall down the basement steps. Her face was ghostly pale and she was high on pain medicine that was obviously wearing off quickly. Tim carried her into the house and plopped her in my recliner. Once he had a pillow under her foot, he took off for the pharmacy to get her scripts filled. It was obvious to me he wasn't a happy camper and it seemed the word STRESSED was flashing in neon above his head.

By falling and getting hurt, Lisa has successfully lengthened all the To Do Lists throughout the family except for her own. We had been counting on her to do her share of the work. How does a man who already had a heavy load work it out when so many things are going wrong? If he'd had a pressure gauge, I'm sure the needle would have been in the red danger zone!

Everybody is upset. We all know she didn't fall on purpose but that doesn't stop us from resenting the situation we've been suddenly thrust into. I guess if I look on the positive side, we all have an opportunity to see how resilient we are, how adaptable we are and how resourceful and patient we are. I think I flunked all of the above yesterday but I didn't lose my temper! Came pretty close but fortunately kept a lid on it. That scene would have been ugly. I feel like a spoiled child who doesn't want to share her favorite chair where she knits and reads in quiet solitude! Why isn't it okay for a sixty year old woman to stomp her feet and have a hissy fit? I could win an Oscar for my performance!

I truly believe doctors should restrict the use of cell phones for patients who aren't "sick". Receiving text messages from a crippled patient who wants something every few minutes is annoying. Chelsea and Heidi haven't reached the mutiny stage yet but they're getting close. This will truly be a test of patience for all of us including Lisa.

Back to the dinner table - Tim cooked a delicious shepherd's pie which gave me a break from the kitchen. Heidi made a cherry cheesecake for Lisa rather than a regular birthday cake and we all had plenty to eat. I'm not sure what happened but the graham cracker crumb crust for the cheesecake was just a heap of crumbs. Since the box for the Jello no-bake cheesecake is already in the trash bin out at the curb, I can't say whether the instructions include baking the crust though Heidi insists it didn't say anything about using an oven. Was Murphy keeping her company in the kitchen?

Though Valerie doesn't have to respond to any of Lisa's text messages because she has no cell phone, she's had her own share of stress this week. We discovered on Tuesday that she had a thriving case of head lice. Did Murphy follow her home from school? Her beautiful curly red hair was infested which on the brighter side successfully delayed her trip to the salon for the haircut she doesn't want. Tim insists she keep her hair tidy and out of her face but unless she has it tied back, it just creates this lovely cloud of curls that reach to her shoulders. When wet, it reaches the middle of her back. She's having fun with her long hair. I remember the haircut I suffered at her age when my own mother took me to her beautician friend for a cut and perm. I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide until it grew out again. That first day at school after my hair was cut short was excruciatingly painful. My classmates's comments were cruel and I fear Valerie will suffer similarly. Now that I'm in a 'Grandma' role for our 'family', it is imperative that Tim and I discuss this before he forces this change on her. I don't know yet how serious he is about insisting on this haircut issue. He has a tendency to make threats when he's unhappy about something and I don't know which ones he'll actually act upon. I'm hoping as I get to know him better, I'll be able to read him with more confidence. Valerie stayed home from school yesterday and sat patiently on the floor in front of Lisa while the nits were combed from her hair. After stripping her bed and gathering all the towels, she laundered them as instructed and didn't hesitate to iron the sheets and pillowcases as an added precaution. She's just so calm and easy-going amidst all this craziness. Valerie seems to always have a smile and is a joy to have around.

Old Murphy found Ray too and it wasn't just the lost email problems (he composed a letter to the bishop three times and somehow lost it each time). Tim created a space in the garage for Ray to organize his boxes of books and clergy related materials. There were several shelf units to be put together and after a brief tutorial where Tim showed Ray how to assemble them, Tim left and went about doing errands. When Tim returned, he found Ray had made no progress at all. Murphy had run off with the part of Ray's brain that facilitates any kind of assembly or building abilities! I'm sure he did his best but it just wasn't going to happen. Poor Ray. Poor Tim. After dinner, Tim and I got the shelves put together in about fifteen minutes. Today Ray worked hard moving his boxes around. Eventually I hope to park my car in the garage again. One can hope. Right?

I think somewhere in here Murphy took a side trip to Utah. After all this planning and rushing about so that Tim could go off to this seven week long Army class, we learn they don't have funding available for his food and lodging while he's away. His participation in the class has been postponed until January 2011. The good thing is he'll be around here to look after Lisa while she heals and help us get everything more settled. He'll have time to finish the walls and ceiling of the basement room we'll call the Man Cave. The bad thing is, if the Army doesn't medically discharge Lisa, they'll both be attending that class at the same time and they'll both be gone all of January and February leaving these young women with me! Hey Murphy! I'm the one who had all boys because God knew I'd probably drown a daughter! Did you forget that fact?

Has Murphy moved into this house? His being here at all wasn't part of the plan.

I think I'm going to get Lisa a big roll of bubble wrap as a belated birthday gift and I'm going to start drinking more MonaVie for my own protection. Last thing I need is the flu or a migraine.

Good night John Boy.

Good night Elizabeth.

Good night Jim Bob.

Good night Ben. . .