The View from Here

How Times Change

 

I was standing on the porch this morning at 4am watching our cat, Babe, eat her breakfast on one side and her daily morning visitor eat at the other, when it occurred to me how much our morning routine has changed over the past year. Babe, once an “inside-outside” cat has become strictly an outside citizen due to some intolerably strange habits she developed. Our once shy morning visitor has gone from curious and cautious to confident and comfortable. I used to worry about Babe getting her fair share of breakfast. Now I just put out two portions. This morning she was eating at her plate and the raccoon peeked over the edge of the porch and put one paw on the old mailbox that sits there. I said, “You know where yours is; get over to the other end!” and gestured with my arm. He backed off, waddled across the yard, and over to the other end of the porch. Lol I decided I had to get a picture, so I went back inside for the camera. When he heard the door again he hid behind the lawn mower. I just went back to Babe’s plate and waited. Sure enough he was out in a flash to finish eating. When I went inside I remarked to Gary that the first time we saw the raccoons I had to wait by the front window every night for a week in order to get one grainy, blurry photo. Now I can stand on the porch and ask one of them to pose! (The others are still afraid of me.)

Today is different in other ways. For years I was sad on this day, but today I am just thankful. Yes, today is the day my mother was born. The calendar marks so many days that we never forget: birthdays of the living and the dead, anniversaries celebrated and those best forgotten, days of joy and of sorrow. The date is a reminder of all that we gained and lost with the existence of just one person. Mother would have loved the raccoons and laughed with me at their antics. I miss her, but I am so very grateful for the time we had together.

The Language of Our Time

 

Why do people, especially young people and women, yes, WOMEN, curse so much these days? I am so very tired of hearing things that I don’t want to hear. I am appalled that otherwise sweet, intelligent, attractive women open their mouths and sound like sailors on shore leave. My mother would have washed my mouth out with soap for half the things they say, and would have disowned me for a few of the choice words they use with abandon.

I don’t understand the reasoning behind this careless use of crude, rude language. Are they trying to sound more macho? Are they trying to prove they are strong and invincible? Are they trying to make a point of being “free to do and say anything they choose”? Or are they just limited in vocabulary and lacking in manners?

One of my kindergartners asked me yesterday, “Is this the bad finger?” My reply was, “I don’t know, I never use a bad one.” And I don’t. Why would I copy an obscene gesture used by people with more anger than wisdom? The fact that the child asked was evidence that he has seen that gesture made by someone and has probably heard words he shouldn’t hear.

I recall one very poignant moment in my childhood when my father demonstrated his respect for my mom’s values and standards. He was trying to fix our broken-down car and things were going very wrong, so he very loudly uttered a curse word. Then he came around to the window and apologized to my mother. It wasn’t the first or last time I heard him curse, but he tried not to do it around mom because he knew she was offended by vulgar language. It seems these days that women aren’t offended by much of anything, and some of them go out of their way to be offensive!

I remember as a smart-mouthed teenager I tried to get away with using the phrase “I don’t give a dam.”  I read that a dam was actually a 16^th century copper coin and I thought that was not only a clear license for using the phrase, but would also impress my friends. My mother was not amused and I quickly abandoned the idea.

I know cursing has been around as long as there have been people. However, the fact that it is used with such casual abandon in ordinary conversations and on public websites is becoming a bit alarming. I’m all for “keeping it real” and I understand why it is used in books and movies when the language clearly fits the character. But I don’t want it to fit MY character. I don’t want to read it and hear it so often that it starts slipping past my conscience and out of my mouth. So I not only try to avoid using it, but seeing and hearing it. That’s becoming nearly impossible!

Of course the terms that are most offensive to my ears are the ones that use the name of our Lord. Whenever I hear someone trash his name I just try to stop and pray for them. Perhaps they didn’t have a mother who took them to church. Or perhaps they just didn’t listen to her. Or perhaps they are wandering in the dark and just need guidance.

I am not perfect and I have my own sins to acknowledge, but I try not to make cursing one of them.

Snail Mail

 

I received some sweet postcards in the mail yesterday from my great-niece and great-nephew. It is still a joy to open my little box at the post office and see a letter or post card among the bills and advertisements. Yesterday I mailed a birthday card to my grandson. Tomorrow I plan to send a card to a friend. Even with the convenience of email and FB and other technology, I think there is a place in our life for real mail. So I shudder at the thought of the post office closing. I wonder why higher powers have not seen this coming and done more to prevent it. I wonder why they have not trimmed a little here and there, raised the cost of postage, cut back on employee benefits, and cut service by a day or two. A fifty cent stamp isn’t going to break anyone’s budget. Three-day service would be better than none at all. Laying off a few employees or cutting them to part-time would be better than closing the doors and dismissing all of them. Again…better brains than mine should have solved this problem long ago.

In our neck of the woods the post office is much more than a place to exchange mail. It’s the local gathering place for many residents. It’s the place for pleasant encounters with people you haven’t seen in a month of Sundays.  It’s the place for hearing the latest news and gossip, especially for the elderly, who may or may not be “online” or in touch by phone.  It’s not a coincidence that our town bulletin board is next to the post office!

Someone tell me how all of the problems of the post office can be resolved, because I want to keep getting snail mail…please.

 

Gloom and Doom

 

I’m not going to be able to retire. I’m not going to ever own another house. I may not even be able to keep my truck. I should spend less, save more, cancel any plans for travel, be stingy at Christmas, and give up my hobbies. If you listen to the news these days it is all about how terrible the economy is and how gloomy the future will be and how little we can do about it. Yet the people who are in charge, who claim to be able to make a difference, want to sit around and argue about things that seem to matter more to their egos than our pocketbooks.

I always thought that the folks we elected were supposed to represent us and our interests, not just the interests of those with the biggest pile of money, not just those who can get them re-elected. Yet every time there is a report about what our elected officials are doing it seems they are focused on an agenda that is far removed from my daily life. And each time there is a flicker of hope that they will do something worthy of gratitude and respect they bring out the old platitudes: the other side won’t let us, there isn’t enough money in the budget, the president will veto it, the problem is just too big.

Really? I thought this was America. Land of the free, home of the brave. The place where dreams come true and anything is possible if you work hard, pay your taxes, and behave yourself. We’re out there in the world monitoring the actions of every other country and telling everyone else how to succeed while our own country fails miserably? We swoop in to rescue and relieve the victims of every global disaster while letting FEMA run out of money? We teach foreign citizens how to develop products to sell so they can support themselves, but we don’t have jobs for the thousands of unemployed here?  Our infrastructure is falling apart at the seams, but we can’t find the money or workers to fix it?

My little brain can’t comprehend all of the complications involved in the tremendous task of repairing our financial system. But isn’t that exactly why we have representatives? So that smarter, or at least more knowledgeable minds can get together to solve the problem? Yes! And that’s where we have failed ourselves. It seems to me that in the last few decades we have let charisma and money and the media influence our choices and our voting to the extent that we now have a bunch of “political personalities” in Washington. Have we seen the resumes of any of these folks? Do we know their backgrounds? Have we asked about their experience and their “track record”? Do we know the facts, or do we just listen to the rhetoric and the promises and hope for the best? I think we have become complacent in making sure the people who are elected to represent us truly do.

I don’t know about you, but I plan to be much more informed about the coming election. And I plan to listen less to the media about the dark future ahead, and more to my own intuition about what I can personally do to improve my life. I believe our best days are ahead, if we learn some lessons from those behind us.

Nothing new...

 

People baffle me, confuse me, amaze me, and anger me…sometimes all at the same time. They do things that make no sense, for reasons I do not understand. They make plans that are doomed to fail. They enter relationships with people who will only hurt them. They try to control things that aren’t within their power. They consume things that are toxic. They do things that are dangerous. They watch things that are evil. And they read things that are stupid. And then they whine when things go wrong.

Yes, I could have replaced a couple of those “they” words with “we” or “I”.   After all, I’m wise and wonderful, but I’m only human. My problem is technology. I actually see and speak to a limited group of people each week. However, with television, the internet, and the telephone that number increases exponentially. So by the time I’ve read a few blogs, watched the local and national news, checked on a few new programs, answered my email, and chatted with friends and family, I find myself thinking “What is WRONG with people?”

And here is my answer: We are spoiled brats!

That was my grandmother’s term for people who expected much more than they had earned.  It was also her description of people who wanted their own way every time, all the time. And I would add that these days it describes people who “want it ALL, NOW”. We have become a society without patience! Delayed gratification has become a bad thing. Cooperation is seen as weakness. Tolerance is viewed as the only politically correct response to anything, however evil or misguided. Gray is the color of the world, and there are no “lines to cross” anymore. They’ve all been swept away by “acceptance”.

Thank goodness I keep a guidebook handy so I can understand the craziness. When I get upset I can consult a few pages and realize that nothing new is going on…it’s all just the latest version of what has always happened with us frail human beings. We step off the path to do our own thing, get hopelessly lost, perhaps even injured, and then cry for help.

Psalms 106:43-44 “Many times he delivered them. But they were bent on rebellion and they wasted away in their sin. But he took note of their distress when he heard their cry; for their sake he remembered his covenant and out of his great love he relented.”

So if people confuse, baffle, amaze, or anger you today, just remember, nothing they do is really new.

Cookies and Coffee...

 

It’s totally my Grandma Bea’s fault that I’m having oatmeal cookies and two cups of coffee this afternoon. Yes, she’s been gone over a decade, but that doesn’t mean her influence isn’t a daily presence in my life. Interesting to think about how one woman’s personality could leave such a lasting impression. I remember more about her, and more of what she said and did, than about any other person in my life, including my own mother. Perhaps I took my mother’s teachings for granted. Or perhaps my grandmother just always seemed louder and stronger and more opinionated. I do remember spending a lot of time with her. I had another grandmother that I loved from a distance. I had aunts and cousins and even a great-grandmother. But Grandma Bea’s was the apron string I clung to for most of my childhood. Even when my family traveled and we were far apart I always knew she was thinking about me. So I guess it’s only natural that she is always in my head and that I gravitate to the habits I learned at her table.

 

Of course as cooler weather approaches I am trying hard NOT to remember some of the habits of Gran’s overburdened table—hot biscuits, lasagna, beef stew, cornbread, pies, mashed potatoes. The woman could cook like no one else! I escape the temptation of many foods by reminding myself that what I cook won’t taste even half as good as the food she provided! LOL I am better off just savoring my memories.

 

I guess I’m thinking about food today because my daughter and I have been discussing the “good, bad, and ugly” of school lunches- both those cooked at school and those brought from home. It is a pervasive attitude of many parents, and society in general, that kids and junk food just naturally go together and that there is no harm in letting children eat “whatever makes them happy” for a few years. Unfortunately what makes them happy these days seems as far removed from real food as possible. When I read the labels of some of the kids’ meals I think they would be better off eating the packaging.

 

I may have grown up eating too much food at Gran’s, but at least it was good, fresh food.  I watched her make it with care and pride. Many of the ingredients came from the garden or from animals raised on the ranch. They didn’t come from a factory a thousand miles away. And the food hadn’t been sitting on the shelf for months or even years. A big topic, perhaps saved for another day…

I’ll let my mind linger on my grandmother’s table for a little longer.

 

I started out the morning with this sunrise and these glorious flowers.  It’s a bit cooler today. The breeze is blowing. The birds are singing. A day worthy of cookies and coffee….

 

 

First Day of Fall

 

I know that it is just a day on the calendar and that our weather has not been cooperating with any of the days posted on the calendar or with the predictions of the meteorologists or anything else that seems to make any sense. I mean after all, twenty degree temperature jumps in one day? 95 degrees in September? Less rainfall than some desert regions? I’m beginning to sound like a whiny broken record. Some of you may have to Google that last word…big round thing that played music. Lol Anyway…I am going to pretend for my own peace of mind that today is truly the First Day of Fall and revel in visions of colorful leaves and cheery chrysanthemums and ripening pumpkins. Because surely they exist somewhere!

Mother loved fall and she spoiled me terribly by making pumpkin bread and sweet potato pie and apple cinnamon muffins and oatmeal-raisin cookies to celebrate her favorite season. She pulled her favorite sweaters out of storage and made new corduroy jackets. Mother was very fond of corduroy and jackets! She was a great seamstress and loved to get back to sewing when the weather turned cooler.  She also gave the house a thorough cleaning before the weather changed to bitter cold. And of course it made her happy to have a fall birthday.

So I’m going to ignore our dying trees and plant a few chrysanthemums that I’ll have to water like a fool. The news tells me that pumpkins are going to be an expensive indulgence this year because of the drought and floods and other wild weather events across the continent but I’m going to buy one anyway. I’m going to take my favorite sweater out of storage even though I won’t be able to wear it this weekend. And I’m going to celebrate Fall!!

Hope you are celebrating where you are.  

 

 

My Life

 

I’m having some problems.

Nothing major.

Nothing new.

Nothing I can’t handle with God’s help.

However, it occurred to me this morning that my journey to this realization and confidence has been a long one. I have weathered a lot of storms and survived a multitude of experiences to arrive at the current phase of my life.

When I was younger I had the misguided notion that I was the “only one” doing whatever I was doing or experiencing whatever was driving me insane at the moment. And at times my life truly did border on insane.

I think I made two major mistakes during my twenties and thirties and even into my early forties: 1. Pride- I seldom asked advice from anyone and preferred to “suffer in silence” or “solve my own problems”. Sometimes I was successful and sometimes I wasn’t. Failures were generally due to my own lack of knowledge and experience. 2. Shame-I didn’t think anyone else was having the same problems or could be as foolish, so I was ashamed to tell anyone that I was!

Of course the middle ground, self-confidence based on knowledge and experience, didn’t come to me until I was fifty. I still have a few days when I doubt my abilities, my intelligence, and even my sanity, but overall I am pleased with myself and my life. Now, in my sixties, when I am faced with a problem, I can look back and see how God has guided me through similar situations in the past and how people have helped me and how I’ve handled problems successfully or not so successfully. Each experience makes my current life less stressful and more enjoyable than previous decades. And yes, I’m old enough now to use that astonishing term. I know there are major problems and traumatic experiences ahead of me, but I know about those problems and life experiences because I have friends and family members who have already gone through them. And I am wise enough now to seek their counsel and support when I need them.

Whatever your age or current situation, I hope you realize that you are not alone and that others are eager to help you deal with your problems. I refuse to believe, as I read recently on FB, that most people don’t want to hear your problems because they simply don’t care. If that is truly the case for you, then you are hanging out with the wrong crowd and just need to find some new friends!

Be kind to yourself and have a good day!

68 years...

 

Happy Birthday to my husband and best friend!

 

 

 

 

Three rings, no net...

 

Someone asked me recently what it is like to teach kindergarten. The analogy that always comes to my mind is the circus. My students often take on the qualities of performers: clowns, acrobats, jugglers, even lions, tigers, and elephants. My classroom sometimes feels like three rings filled with different activities. And I feel like my job is a combination of ring master, lion tamer, and clown. However, the comparisons go a little deeper if you have had any experience with the “behind the scenes” workings of a major circus.

In order to execute the acts that enthrall us at the circus, the acrobats and jugglers and aerial performers must practice, practice, practice.

Before there can be glitter and glamour and dazzling costumes in the ring, there are hours and hours of work to be done by people toiling unseen in a trailer or shop that no one notices.

The same animals that amaze us for a few minutes in the ring must be housed and fed and protected for the rest of the weeks and months and years that they are part of the circus.  Their cages must be cleaned. Their training must be continued. And sometimes their tempers must be controlled.

A lot of what we see in the circus is “smoke and mirrors”, fantasy and enchantment.

So if you see our smiling kindergarten faces and hear us singing our silly songs and see our art work in the hall and think “how cute”, or you know what I do and think “how fun”, know that you are only half right. The rest of the story is a lot of practice, hard work, care, control, and cleanup!