i.am.sanders

Traveling Shoes

2012-01-13T20:15:00.000-06:00

Yesterday it snowed. I was at home, compliments of the school district's 'Voice of Snowdays' ~ which warned me in the wee hours of inclement weather. The roads were clear fairly early and while transportation was no longer problematic, the windchill was something akin to a single degree. Just a day before, the temperature was in the low 50s, and it will be so again by early next week. Only in my neck of the Midwest! The afternoon found me traveling to meet my best friend from high school, the one who has known me longest, the one who for years was the twin bound to me with an invisible thread. She arrived by way of a turbulent plane ride from Bozeman, Montana. I love this girl. I always will...

I have been reminded of late that sometimes those we've loved the dearest never really go away, regardless of the miles between us. At other times, those closest to us are the ones who are farthest away. There are several personal stories attached to that sentiment, but for now I am thinking of another friend who is anticipating an unanticipated change of path:

March on. Do not tarry. To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life's path.

~Khalil Gibran

As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives. ~Henry David Thoreau

The path of least resistance and least trouble is a mental rut already made. It requires troublesome work to undertake the alternation of old beliefs.

~John Dewey

Sometimes it is sweet, even humbling, to return to the yesterdays when things were simpler, less complicated. Like in the days of teddy bears. And too-big earphones. With only the irritation of a flashbulb spotting your view.

xo, ~S.

ab hinc

2012-01-09T20:46:00.000-06:00

Two months is a long time to be gone. I've missed this blog. It has, at times, been difficult to stifle the urge to be creative here. And then at other times, I've completely forgotten this outlet for days and weeks on end. Even so, I have written more than ever before in these past four months. My mind has been occupied and my pen rarely dormant, but academia held sway over my words.

The holidays were here and gone and I hardly noticed. Just weeks before Christmas, my beloved grandmother passed away. We should all have one person who knows how to bless us despite the evidence, Grandmother was that person to me. ~Phyllis Theroux It is surreal to think that I no longer have grandparents here on earth. It is especially difficult to see the sadness in my mother's eyes. For now, she is lost in a routine that no longer includes the need to tend to my grandmother's care.

Sometimes transitions can be so sad.

On another note, I recently met up with a dear pal. There is nothing like an unexpected text, an invitation to come out from beneath the textbooks to enjoy a bit of camaraderie, to lighten the mood. Somehow she knew I needed just that...an escape. How rare and wonderful is that flash of a moment when we realize we have discovered a friend. ~William Rotsler Sarah is genuine and kind. Our connection has history. It is one of the things I like about her. All experience is an arch, to build upon. ~Henry B. Adams As I reflect, I am reminded that sometimes It's luck that one thing works out and one doesn't, it's sort of happenstance. ~Richard Linklater Thank you, Sarah, for the laughter. You always make it feel like a hug.

Sometimes transitions can be such blessings.

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
~T.S. Eliot

xo, ~S.

November

2011-11-06T17:55:00.003-06:00

It's been awhile since I've stopped by. I reread a draft of an earlier post. The tone of it made me laugh. It was so me...at least the 'me' that is prone to irritability:

Dear Lady in the Green Clogs Sitting Next to Me in the Bookstore,

I am trying to study. Others are attempting to read. I am confident that none of us want to listen to the sitcom streaming loudly on your computer. I would give you my earphones if I hadn't left them at home on the sofa. You do have the option of exercising your volume button.

Sincerely, ~S.

Instead, I am going to channel my thoughts elsewhere (since I am hostage to this background noise). Ugh. Oh well, I suppose.

That mood has passed thank goodness, at least for now. I have skipped studying these past two evenings and it has been an indulgence of great proportions. Tomorrow I will begin a weekend of preparing a lengthy paper, but tonight? Tonight, I am here. My dear friend sent some kind words my way and motivated me to write. “Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.” ~Mother Teresa Thank you, Nat.

And alas, it is already Sunday and I have not yet begun my paper. I attempted to reread excerpts from Harvard Business Review's 10 Must Reads on Leadership. It was a bit difficult as my youngest child was over my shoulder, excitedly pointing out words that she is learning in kindergarten. How precious is that? She has been feeling a bit under the weather and it has been nice to feel her close and wanting her mom. Now she is off with her sister, helping her to clean her room...and there is silence. I am not sure if that is a good thing. For sure, it is rarity. *sigh* Silence is more musical than any song. ~Christina Rossetti

Things that made me smile recently~

Three beautiful daughters. I am blessed.

Lane, dressed for her teacher's wedding

Ally, top right, at her final soccer game of the season


McKenzie being silly, hating to pose (as always)

My little one playing 'mannequin' for nearly 30 minutes while her sisters shopped... I enjoyed watching the passersby look and laugh.

Beautiful scenery on my drive home across the river:

Gorgeous sunsets...

And a chill to my November days. I love this time of year!

"How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow."

- Elsie N. Brady, Leaves

Fall

2011-10-17T21:03:00.000-05:00

It is a rainy October day, the thought-provocative kind that piques the senses. Finally, finally a chill has kissed the air and I am happily settling into the season. Today I drove across ribbons of an old highway, high into the hills and along the bluffs, following the river. Lovely.   How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. ~John Burroughs These are the vistas that find their way into books. The scenery itself has a story to tell...

I am now sitting with a mug and a laptop, making an attempt to study. My focus, though, is not on academia at the moment. (Instead, I am thinking back over my happy day.) I am at the bookstore [*sigh*] and my determination to stay seated and remain far from the stacks is waning. I confess: I am a bibliophile. I love the feel of books, the smell of books, the sight of them on my shelves... Most of all, I love the words.  Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth With that, I must go for now. A book (or two or three) is calling my name. The polite response, as always, is to answer.

Part Two:

I perused a few books but refrained from making a purchase. Self control is not my forte but this afternoon I managed to conjure a wee bit. Later, I enjoyed some Chinese food with my daughter. My fortune cookie summarized my life story: "Be prepared to modify the plan." The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails. ~William Arthur Ward

A storm is brewing and I'm off to relax with Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and listen to the rain. I'm also going to make plans for this:

October. Nice. ~S.

Source: cookinupnorth.blogspot.com via Jessica on Pinterest

Aweigh

2011-10-14T16:43:00.001-05:00

Source: etsy.com via Sarah-Keel on Pinterest

Love, love, love...

And I love this too...a print that reminds me of my childhood, just a decade or two (or more) ago:

Source: etsy.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

I cherish my childish loves--the memory of that warm little nest where my affections were fledged.

George Eliot, Theophrastus Such

Source: plainchicken.com via Audrey on Pinterest

Cheddar Bacon Ranch Pulls

(Crack Bread)

1 unsliced loaf of (round is preferable) sourdough bread

8-12 oz cheddar cheese, thinly sliced

3 oz bag Oscar Mayer Real Bacon bits

1/2 cup butter, melted

1 Tbsp Ranch dressing mix

Using a sharp bread knife cut the bread going both directions. Do not cut through the bottom crust. Place slices of cheese in between cuts. Sprinkle bacon bits on bread, making sure to get in between cuts. Mix together butter and Ranch dressing mix. Pour over bread. Wrap in foil the entire loaf in foil and place on a baking sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes. Unwrap. Bake for an additional 10 minutes, or until cheese is melted.

This weekend, this recipe! From morning till night, sounds drift from the kitchen, most of them familiar and comforting....On days when warmth is the most important need of the human heart, the kitchen is the place you can find it... ~E.B.White (1899-1985)

The weekend is here and I am so, so happy. This time, I have three whole days to catch up on laundry and chores, followed by time to read and write, and read and write some more. Leadership Theory and Practice, Leadership Theory and Practice Application, and Professional Seminar One...I am feeling the weight of so much coursework and yet I find it invigorating. Somewhere in the midst of all this excitement, I am determined to enjoyed the crisp Autumn air and the laughter of my children.

All things on earth point home in old October: sailors to sea, travelers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken. ~Thomas Wolfe

~S.

Young...at Heart

2011-10-04T20:24:00.001-05:00

Children are the hands by which we take hold of Heaven. ~Henry Ward Beecher There is something that happens to me each and every weekday now, something that brings a smile to my heart. My youngest child is a student at "my" school, the one at which I teach. This means she is never far away, and always, always, she finds me to deliver a hug. Her classmates then greet me... "Hi, Lane's Mom," they say. To them, I am not their potential future teacher. I am simply "Lane's Mom." That, most definitely, is good enough for me. Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself... You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. ~Kahlil Gibran

* * *

A child's world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that for most of us that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is beautiful and awe-inspiring, is dimmed and even lost before we reach adulthood. ~Rachel Carson

Fortunately, for some of us, this is untrue. Rather,

Youth is a perpetual intoxication; it is a fever of the mind. ~Francois Duc de La Rochefoucauld I know this is true. How? Two words: Gerard Butler. Uh huh. I was perusing a favorite blogger's site, Lisa Leonard Designs, and here's what I found. Yep.

Source: lisaleonardonline.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

And finally, this note to self.

Read. Repeat. Believe.

Believe:

“When I say, 'I love you,' it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman.” ~Joss Whedon

That's all. For now. xo, ~S.

Mirror, Mirror

2011-09-23T17:01:00.000-05:00

Things that have made me recently reflective ~

re·flec·tion (rĭ-flĕk'shən) n. 1. The act of reflecting or the state of being reflected. 2. Something, such as light, radiant heat, sound, or an image, that is reflected. 3. Mental concentration; careful consideration. 4. An indirect expression of censure or discredit. 5. A manifestation or result.

The word 'benign' and all it implies. Thank you, God.

A fading pink sky, a rising mist, a full moon.

Saying hello, reminiscing with old friends, 'church lady food', saying goodbye.

Biscuits and gravy with my daughter, soccer tournaments, the anticipation of a St. Louis visit.

A rose from a student...yellow, of course.

The sounds of a late night train.

A quote: "I read and walked for miles at night along the beach, writing bad blank verse and searching endlessly for someone wonderful who would step out of the darkness and change my life. It never crossed my mind that that person could be me." ~Anne Quindlen

...or two: "The problems of the world cannot possibly be solved by skeptics or cynics whose horizons are limited by the obvious realities. We need men who can dream of things that never were." ~John F. Kennedy

The arrival of fall, when my senses are most keen, the time of year when my sentiments are heightened. It is in these days that I am an old, old soul.

Magic: "Second star to the right, then straight on 'til morning...That Peter had told Wendy, was the way to Neverland."

And with that, I think I'll take flight. For now. ~S.

Let's roll.

2011-09-11T20:45:00.001-05:00

Source: thestir.cafemom.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

Time is passing. Yet, for the United States of America, there will be no forgetting September the 11th. We will remember every rescuer who died in honor. We will remember every family that lives in grief. We will remember the fire and ash, the last phone calls, the funerals of the children. ~President George W. Bush, November 11, 2001

These lines from final verse of our national anthem speak to my heart. I hope they do likewise to yours.

Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n-rescued land
Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust"
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

May you and yours be richly blessed. ~S.

Happenstance

2011-09-04T16:05:00.000-05:00

I am in 'a mood' and have decided to whittle away the edge of it with words. I am typing in a public place and I find the blaring sounds of YouTube on a neighboring laptop to be intrusive. I wish I'd brought along my earphones. I could wear them myself or offer them to the party at the adjacent table in exchange for some peace and quiet. Annoying, too, is the way the young man behind the cafe counter keeps flicking his braid, a tiny thing that hangs behind one ear and down onto his shoulder. (I don't understand the purpose of this style statement. It seems bizarre, or maybe my thoughts simply indicate I am growing old.) He serves me my vanilla cupcake with a smile and a wish for a great day. Now I feel bad. I need to rewind and begin again. I, of all people, should know better than to judge a book by its cover. Dang it. What is wrong with me today?

Right now I wish Cape Cod wasn't so far from here...or maybe I am wishing that I was far away on Cape Cod. My little sis pointed me in this direction and I am 'homesick'...

Source: hollymathisinteriors.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

I love the work of Holly Mathis Interiors and think I could make it work here, on Nantucket Island:

Source: images.search.yahoo.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

And this driveway is lovely:

Source: images.search.yahoo.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

A young girl nearby has just asked to use my phone. She is obviously trying to study but is frustrated with a new-but-dead battery in her own. There is something about helping someone else that lessens the egocentrism. My mood is shifting...

Someday, when we both reminisce we'll both say, 'There wasn't too much we missed,' and through the tears we'll smile when we recall we had it all for just a moment. ~St. Elmo's Fire

Sit in reverie and watch the changing color of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel--both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back--in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you. ~Frederick Buechner

There: a few final quotes...for me, if not for you. I think I can study now. I think. ~S.

Over the River and Through the Woods

2011-08-30T17:19:00.000-05:00

The memories which peaceful country scenes call up, are not of this world, nor of its thoughts and hopes. Their gentle influence may teach us how to weave fresh garlands for the graves of those we loved: may purify our thoughts, and bear down before it old enmity and hatred; but beneath all this, there lingers, in the least reflective mind, a vague and half-formed consciousness of having held such feelings long before, in some remote and distant time, which calls up solemn thoughts of distant times to come, and bends down pride and worldliness beneath it. ~Charles Dickens

Is it any wonder this place is called Spring Garden? That is the name of my childhood...of grandma's house.

the yard

apple orchard

site of the old grape vines and a cherry tree

This tree reminds me of my favorite book, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Scout's reflective thoughts near the end of the story always tugs at me a bit... "We came to the street light on the corner, and I wondered how many times Dill had stood there hugging the fat pole, watching, waiting, hoping. I wondered how many times Jem and I had made this journey, but I entered the Radley front gate for the second time in my life. Boo and I walked up the steps to the porch. His fingers found the front doorknob. He gently released my hand, opened the door, went inside, and shut the door behind him. I never saw him again. Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbor. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and our lives. But neighbors give in return. We never put back into the tree what we took out of it: we had given him nothing, and it made me sad."

We should all have one person who knows how to bless us despite the evidence, Grandmother was that person to me. ~Phyllis Theroux

the old Spring Garden Baptist Church, abandoned for a newer structure, still stands on grandma's property

This little one-room schoolhouse, still in use as a community building, is just a skip down the gravel road from grandma's house. I can see it from her porch. I took this photo on the Fourth of July and love it. My mother attended first grade here. As a first grade teacher myself, this place is rather sweet.

xo, S.

August

2011-08-01T11:47:00.003-05:00

Somewhere in the world today is a boy, I mean a man, who is celebrating a birthday. He was from Paris and spent a month in my neighborhood as a foreign exchange student in the summer of 1986. He attempted to teach his uncultured American friends how to blow smoke rings. I wonder where he is today. I wonder why I even wonder.

July was a lot of busy-ness for me. I completed the inaugural session of my doctoral work and just last evening, registered for the next semester of courses. Now if only gas prices would fall (ha), I'd enjoy the trek to class a bit more. I am contemplating research in the area of literacy-deficit children and their experiences in the primary grades. I have this persistent drive to narrow my focus and make a plan. Time is money and I'd like to begin spending less of it (money, that is). Besides, if I'm going to conduct research and then prepare a manuscript of, say, 500 to 1000 to God-knows-how-many pages, I'd rather begin sooner than later.

I'd also like the rain to begin sooner versus later. Days on end with exorbitant temperatures and sweltering humidity makes for hefty doses of misery. I need gills. I am dreaming of fall, of this:


Flicker. Onironauta.

Summer here is summed up by one word: sweat. Personally, I think sweat is disgusting.

So today while I clothe myself in air conditioning, I am going to begin the prep work for creating an office. First, I need to clear the area (a lofty goal). Ultimately, I think I'd like a space like this:

Source: google.com via Britney on Pinterest

or this:

Source: whimages.blogspot.com via Laura on Pinterest

using fabric like this:

Source: fabric.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

on a settee such as this:

Source: apartmenttherapy.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

inside of antiquated walls like these:

Source: tumblr.com via Stephanie on Pinterest

in a setting identical to this:

Source: cognacandcoffee.tumblr.com via Megan on Pinterest

And now we're back to Autumn...soon, I hope. *sigh*

Into My Own

2011-07-22T16:54:00.000-05:00

~Robert Frost

ONE of my wishes is that those dark trees,
So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze,
Were not, as ’twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom.

I should not be withheld but that some day
Into their vastness I should steal away,
Fearless of ever finding open land,
Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.

I do not see why I should e’er turn back,
Or those should not set forth upon my track
To overtake me, who should miss me here
And long to know if still I held them dear.

They would not find me changed from him they knew—
Only more sure of all I thought was true.

Dear Mom,

Many words in these posts are about dad, perhaps not always overtly so, but you recognize the ebb and flow of my words. Sometimes the most difficult aspect of a relationship is the lack of closure following its end. I seem to be always searching for the period at the end of the sentence, or the epilogue that comes at the fading of the book. It is true that dad provided much of the fuel for my maddening fight. Sometimes it was much like gasoline. Ultimately though, the story of me is about survival. For that fire, I can be grateful to dad despite everything.

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness. ~Honore de Balzac, author

Still, I wonder if you can forgive me...for always looking back at the sadness, for struggling to channel the anger, for trying to assimilate it all, somehow, into my life today. What I want you to know is that I have not forgotten: I am not only his daughter. I am yours as well. No matter how old a mother is, she watches her middle-aged children for signs of improvement. ~Florida Scott-Maxwell It is your calm, your smile, the seeds that you have sown. ~ These are anchors that hold me steady when my heart is adrift. You are, as you always have been, a safe harbor.

What I want you to know is that where I have been may have a lot to do with dad, but where I am going has everything to do with you. How could you have known so many years ago that those alphabet flashcards (still in my cabinet) and journals and stories ~ shared because you believed literacy mattered ~ could have such an impact? Most mothers are instinctive philosophers. ~Harriet Beecher Stowe More importantly, I watched (and am still watching) you read. You taught by example. That best academy, a mother's knee. ~James Russell Lowell And so today, as I contemplate research that will perhaps impact the lives of others, I return to those memories of us...a mother and her young child, reading and learning and falling in love with words. I only hope that every child might be so blessed. Whatever I do in this educational journey that is good, it is you to whom I am indebted foremost. Love, S. xo

As is the mother, so is her daughter.~Ezekiel 16:4

Lord, let it be so.

Patriotism, belated, is still timely...

2011-07-22T08:51:00.000-05:00

O' beautiful for spacious skies

This is America ... a brilliant diversity spread like stars, like a thousand points of light in a broad and peaceful sky. ~GEORGE H.W. BUSH, RNC acceptance speech, August 18, 1988

God bless America, land that I love. Stand beside her, and guide her, through the night with a light from above.

Young man, there is America -- which at this day serves for little more than to amuse you with stories of savage men, and uncouth manners; yet shall, before you taste of death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world. ~EDMUND BURKE, speech on conciliation with America, 1775

God shed His grace on Thee

No People can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand, which conducts the Affairs of men more than the People of the United States. Every step, by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation, seems to have been distinguished by some token of providential agency.

~GEORGE WASHINGTON, first inaugural address, Apr. 30, 1789

O' say does that star spangled banner yet wave, o'er the Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave?

France was a land, England was a people, but America, having about it still that quality of the idea, was harder to utter—it was the graves at Shiloh and the tired, drawn, nervous faces of its great men, and the country boys dying in the Argonne for a phrase that was empty before their bodies withered. It was a willingness of the heart.

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD, "The Swimmers," Saturday Evening Post, Oct. 19, 1929

The God who gave us life, gave us liberty at the same time.

~Thomas Jefferson

Hello, again.

2011-07-03T19:12:00.000-05:00

I am a bit sad today. I realized how busy I've become and until this morning, I hadn't even thought of this blog for a week or two. It is summer, true, and that involves camp and vacation and swimming lessons and and and...and summer school for me so, yes, my schedule is packed. I am learning much in my current classes, thanks to an incredible amount of reading. The latest assignment, though ~ an article for which I must provide an annotation for my peers ~ is excruciating. It was written by a feminist and although I champion the female cause, the bias of her position is ugh. And so I am here instead, writing, because I happen to like my voice better than hers at the present time.

On a completely random note, I found these photos on Pinterest and was reminded of some childhood happiness. When I was but a few years old, my mom made me a butterfly cake for my birthday. It had sky blue frosting, just like on these cupcakes shown. She found the design in a cookbook (which she still has on a bookshelf somewhere). The cakes in that book were fabulous to me, and I'd sit and look at the pictures often. And the turkeys ~ the ones my mom made weren't quite like these. They were not edible but looked similar. I remember the bodies were made from small paper cups (to hold nuts or candies), and the feathers were cut from construction paper. I believe they were used as party favors. The leftover supplies from the craft were stored in a desk drawer, and I used them often for my own projects until, alas, they were finally gone.

As for childhood, my daughters are keeping me in smiles. My youngest sat near me, 'reading' the Bible the other evening. She was sharing the story of Mary's journey to Bethlehem. What I did not know, until then, is that Mary's last name was Jefferson, and during her travels she also visited Africa, Illinois and California. That particular lesson will surely prove beneficial for some New Testament trivia at some point. My child has also developed a gift for writing songs. She played her piece before swimming lessons today. She indicated it is a love song. (Um, she's five years old.) She let me read the lyrics. Truly, truly, this is a mother's love song.

As I race to complete this post, I anticipate but one more before my summer fades into a classroom, one in which I am again the student. Tomorrow my family will travel to the magical town of Spring Garden and I will include a bit of it here. It has been awhile since I've visited there...my mother's childhood home, my grandmother's house when she was well. I have so many Fourth of July memories stored there and it will be a nice return. The old white house. The church bell. The one-room school house. Lilac bushes and honeysuckle. Reminders of family dinners in the yard. The cherry tree. Gravel roads. Lightning bugs. Barbecue. Homemade ice cream. Watermelon. Chocolate pie. Singing "America the Beautiful" with cousins atop the doghouse. My grandmother's echo: "I love you too, kid." I miss those words. Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, I can conjure their sound...if not in my ears, then in my heart.

xo, ~S.

Flag Day

2011-06-14T17:05:00.000-05:00

If anyone, then, asks me the meaning of our flag, I say to him - it means just what Concord and Lexington meant; what Bunker Hill meant; which was, in short, the rising up of a valiant young people against an old tyranny to establish the most momentous doctrine that the world had ever known - the right of men to their own selves and to their liberties. ~Henry Ward Beecher

The day began with a late start. Somehow I set my alarm for the p.m. rather than the a.m...but the extra sleep felt very nice. I took my little one to her pre-kindergarten summer school (tardy ~ I really despise that word), and then spent some very productive time at the grocery store. Because I am a working mom with kids underfoot, I am rarely afforded the luxury of shopping, alone, at a leisurely pace. This morning there were no emergency detours to the restroom, no special requests in the candy aisle, and no attempts at sneaking Justin Bieber magazines into my cart. Instead, I loaded up on onions (green and Vidalia), peppers (green and red), mushrooms, olives, chilies, Italian sausage, pasta sauce, and so many other [and less exciting] items. I prepared two Italian sausage lasagnas, one for tonight's dinner and one for the freezer, and felt like I'd actually accomplished something. This afternoon I'll prepare chicken pot pies and cheesy enchiladas for the freezer as well. I'm attempting to stock meals for my upcoming absence from home ~ my month of incessant writing and coursework and research and, well, my month of just being gone.

My little one is attending the school at which I teach. This should prove interesting as she is fiercely independent...and stubborn. (Hmm, the apple doesn't fall far from her momma's tree.) Today her teacher expressed concern about Lane's coloring. Quite frankly, it has been a sloppy mess. I've noticed it too. Curiously, Lane is extremely artistic and usually colors beautifully. Apparently she wants to be the first one to finish her work. Quality matters less to her right now than it does to her teacher and mother. I am hopeful that the new box of crayons and princess coloring book (also purchased during the productive grocery store adventure) will encourage her best work. Otherwise, maybe the chocolate milkshake [also known as a bribe] will.

My middle daughter is here this week (see photos below). It is a place I love, a place where many good memories were made, a place to which my heart returns when I wish to deny that I am getting older. Fortunately, childhood ~ and church camp excitement ~ is but a thought away.

Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it. ~Proverbs 22:6

There are newer buidings on the campus now, but I am quite fond of the older ones: the chicken houses and barn, converted into dorms and a chapel. The drive to camp is a treat in and of itself. The jaunt requires travel on old, two-lane highways; across one-lane bridges; over gravel roads near towns with names like Spring Valley, and Spring Garden. The property is nestled in a hollow where the strongest smell is that of grass and clover...and cows. And this is what I found along the roadside. I only wish I could have captured the heirloom roses, whose vines long ago began their ascent high into the trees.

The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. ~Song of Solomon 2:12

xo, ~S.

Sunshine

2011-06-09T21:55:00.024-05:00

We must overcome the notion that we must be regular...it robs you of the chance to be extraordinary and leads you to the mediocre.
~Uta Hagen

How curious that I should discover this quote today! Yesterday, I visited with my friend and mentor, Dr. Carol Maher. Last summer we met during a leadership seminar. As she discussed her career path, she indicated that her journey was rooted in a deep desire to stamp out mediocrity. How could I have possibly known that a year later, I would be one of her doctoral students? I walked into the doors of that seminar without a single thought of ever pursuing post-graduate studies. I exited those doors, however, with an altered mindset. And that is when my journey began. "When you take charge of your life, there is no longer need to ask permission of other people or society at large. When you ask permission, you give someone veto power over your life." ~Geoffrey F. Abert

Today it will, again, be unbearably hot...unless you spend the afternoon indulging yourself in a perfect saltwater pool (which I am). It is the "Summer of the Cicadas" but fortunately, the beady-eyed insects don't concern me much. I only wish they were a bit more attractive. If I must share [every inch of] grass and pavement and air with them, it would be nice if they were beautiful or something. Perhaps I could offer a stretch and allude to their gossamer wings? (Okay, maybe not.) And for now, I'm off. I have a date with the sunshine...

...and what a date it was! I've been sunkissed (and am loving it).

Naples, 1961

My firstborn contacted me from Rome today. She has developed an affinity for Italian shoes, purses and jewelry. I am thankful, extremely thankful, that she and I wear the same size shoe. Tomorrow she will travel by train to Napoli, before returning to the Middle East. My father enjoyed his time as a sailor in the Mediterranean, and he had an affection for Naples. I e-mailed this photo to her. It made her cry. She misses him. I do as well. Just know, sweet girl, that Italy is an experience that, in some small way, you've shared with your grandpa. xoxo

Noble Things

2011-06-02T19:28:00.002-05:00

Today was hot and humid, but happy. I spent it with my sis and her sons, and two of my daughters. We rode the city bus downtown, visited the Capitol (the most beautiful ever, and that's the truth), enjoyed a bit of small town diner food, visited a locally-owned bookstore, said hello to my dear friend at her new and fabulous business CORK, then finished the afternoon with some frozen yogurt, topped with fresh strawberries and granola. Whew. Oh, and I forgot to mention the cicadas. They are everywhere (as in a plague of biblical proportions) and their cacophony is deafening ~ almost. Fortunately, I was not overly concerned with the need to remove them, with regularity, from my pants and shirt. The joys of a Midwest summer...

Architecture. Beautiful. Stunningly so.

The rotunda. Breathtaking.


Perfectly Painted and Inlaid Dogwood

Upon my return home I visited Pinterest. (I love these virtual bulletin boards. It's an organizational dream.) A photo of mine had been repinned onto another's board. This fellow user had labeled her board artistic. This is significant to me because the photo that was reposted was of something personal, something of personal significance, something that it seems only I understand.

It is flattering that someone else appreciated the art. I appreciate the meaning. Despite all the scars I carry, this one was strategic...with purpose, with meaning.

A really strong woman accepts the war she went through and is ennobled by her scars. ~Carly Simon

That, that is what I want.

And now I'm off. The chicken tetrazzini is hot from the oven!

xo, ~S.

Look love
They've given up believing
They've turned aside our stories of the gentle fall

But don't you believe them
Don't you drink their poison too
These are the scars that words have carved
On me

Hey love
That's the name we've long held back
From the core of truth

So don't turn away now
I am turning in revolution
These are the scars that silence carved
On me...

...Hey, love
I am a constant satellite
Of your blazing sun
My love
I obey your law of gravity
This is the fate you've carved on me
The law of gravity
This is the fate you've carved on me
~excerpts from Vienna Teng's "Gravity"

العاطفة

2011-06-01T23:10:00.002-05:00

“I want to be remembered as the girl who always smiles even when her heart is broken, and the one that could always brighten up your day even if she couldn't brighten her own.” I've had this quote saved for quite some time in draft form, hidden in the list of yet-to-be-published posts. I don't know it's origin, only that I so often resonate with its tone. Tonight I came across another quote, a more important one, whose author amazes me, whose name is much like a prayer..."Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy." ~Anne Frank Surrounded by death and disgust, she remained a smile in the dark. That's the kind of girl I'd like to be.

This is taken from Rumi's Ode 1823. I found it on Pinterest (my latest addiction) and it's credited to Tarah Lowry. If you'd like to visit an uplifting family blogspot, please click the banner below. Sweetness.

My daughter called today, the one who is fearlessly venturing out into the desert. She and her friends visited The Grand Mosque. I would have liked to have seen her covered in Muslim dress, seeing her pink face taking in the wonder. Very soon she will head to a more temperate climate. Rome awaits. And the Vatican. And the Colosseum. And Michelangelo's art. And the food. *sigh*

On a sad note, I began the process of saying farewell to a friend today. I had never met her, but felt I knew her rather well. I'd learned that she had a pet dog named Pups, that her family vacationed in California... but this morning my youngest told me that Mary Jeffy isn't real. "I made her up, mom." Oh dang, I knew this day would come. Some things should last forever...like childhood.

Things that made me smile recently:

a chat with my dearest friend of 27 years (oh my, we're getting old!)...I'm envious of the foot of snow in her Bozeman, Montana mountains, by the way.
my 10 year-old's shoe choice ~ Chuck Taylors...and the fact that she thinks they are cool. (They are.)
the words of a friend, reminding me of the sentiments in my heart: "No self doubt. It's your story, your glory." I love you, too.
this, via Becca Norman at Pinterest:

and this, from Pinterest:

mila-loveology.blogspot.com

And with that, I bid you goodnight. An hour on Skype,visiting with my heart in Abu Dhabi, while the little ones giggle and play hours past their bedtime. That, THAT is passion. xo, ~S.

Summer

2011-05-27T17:02:00.000-05:00

"Wherever you go, go with all your heart." ~Confucius

Today I hung up my whistle for the last time this school year. It was a bit sad, actually. This group of students has a special place in my heart. Collectively, they were the strongest class of my teaching career...so many of them already reading grade levels beyond expectation. Most importantly, though, they are incredibly kind and thoughtful children. Even at their young age, they are empathetic toward their peers. They are genuinely sweet and will give, and give, and give to others as their lives unfold. I am missing them already. There are a few whom I will likely never see again. They are preparing to move far away this very weekend. I will not forget them. Their tug on my heartstrings will not lighten. Ever.

"Friendship... is not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything." ~Muhammad Ali

Summer...My firstborn has begun a vacation of a lifetime. Today as I attempted to quietly finish the last day of school, a large commercial jet was landing in the desert with her on board. As I type this, she is walking the streets of Abu Dhabi with friends, e-mailing me about the similarities she sees to America ~ with the exception of the ever-present Arabic writing and men wearing dishdashas. Tomorrow, she thinks, will include a helicopter ride over an area of the world I will likely never see. Enjoy every moment, sweet girl.

"Adventure must start with running away from home.” ~William Bolitho

Yesterday, my Ally received several awards at school. None of them involved fashion sense or expertise regarding Justin Bieber trivia. Nevertheless, she was recognized and I am delighted I could attend the assembly. You are a superstar, kiddo, but you already know that. * * * Today, very soon, I will retrieve my youngest from preschool. It is her last day as a "little kid" and she is glad of it. Still, Lane, you will always be my baby. Always.

“Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up.” ~The Wonder Years

And now I am off...to be a mom for awhile, to return to school to finish some tasks, and to study and write a paper. I am transitioning from one school setting to another for the next few months...and I am happy. Be so, too.

xo, ~S.

Joplin

2011-05-23T17:12:00.001-05:00

We tend to be a tight group here in the Midwest. When tragedy strikes we become even closer-knit, drawing together and remembering that we are, indeed, a family. Please keep those affected by the devastating tornadoes in your thoughts and prayers. Please. Tomorrow it could be one of us.

xoxo, ~S.

"You don't realize what you take for granted. When you're surrounded by devastation, it's a different story." ~Brittany Stanley

"The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." ~Deuteronomy 31:8

Magic

2011-05-17T11:16:00.003-05:00

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.” ~Roald Dahl

Life has become quite busy and I am already sensing the prospect of an increasingly neglected blog. I hate that. (A strong word, but true.) This arena is such a creative outlet for me, a necessary outlet, but sometimes life creates its own agendas. My intent is to stay awatch "with glittering eyes" and to somehow translate the findings onto page as time allows. Besides, it will provide an apt respite from the theories and research connected to my professional and academic lives. I have decided that busy-ness is my favorite brand of craziness. I will simply go with the flow.

Things That Made Me Smile Recently

Sweet Mrs. Plassmeyer, our 82 year-old reading buddy, wearing a perfect pair of lilac espadrilles. One is never too old for style.
The excitement from a friend who enjoyed the gifted book. *sigh*
The purchase of school supplies...a laptop, textbooks, a parking tag. It's the feeling of moving forward ~ not the costs ~ that excite me.
Daughter Number One's return from college, now a sophomore. Incredible. And now she prepares to leave again, this time with a passport.
My five year-old's statement that she was having a bad hair day, followed by her profession that her doll was a control freak. Again, she is five. Hmmm.
Spiedini Giovanni. And good company. Perfection.

Forgetfulness

~Billy Collins

The name of the author is the first to go

followed obediently by the title, the plot

the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel

which suddenly becomes one you have never read,

never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor

decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,

to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye

and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,

and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,

the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,

it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,

not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river

whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,

well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those

who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night

to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.

No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted

out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.

Glittering eyes. Magic. Remembrance. xo, ~S.

Birthday Girl

2011-05-11T12:34:00.002-05:00

Forty-One. Already. I feel much younger, but my shell belies the truth. I found the idea for this post some time ago on another blog. Perhaps you'll find it interesting. Perhaps not. Regardless, it's good for me to reflect a bit. Forty-one years is a long time to spend in thought.

41 Things about Me

I am saved by grace, thank God. John 3:16 is what matters most.
Biscuits and Gravy. My favorite food. Ever. I have the fondest memories of such breakfasts with my grandparents.
I have regrets but will probably never tell you what they are.
I have a white tattoo on the inside of my writer's wrist: an anchor. It means a lot to me.
The greatest gifts are daughters. And books.
I am cultivating a great story in my head. I hope it continues to find its way to my pen.
I remember more than you realize.
I love to teach. In my next life, I'm heading to law school.
My favorite color is green, followed by red and brown.
I have graphochromatic synaethesia...never a dull hue.
I respect people who have points of view.
I am extremely opinionated and generally believe my views are correct, but I respect your right to disagree. See #11.
I love thunderstorms, the smell of rain, autumn, and the silence of snowfall.
I could live forever in a cabin in the Smokies...
...or in a Captain's House on Nantucket. Both are heaven on earth. This, I know for sure.
I vote my conscience.
I miss my dad and always will.
My students are fabulous...and they know it.
Education matters, and I hate it when parents don't support and encourage their children's academic efforts.
I still carry the key to my 1970 VW Bug on my key ring. What a car...
I wish the Sonny and Cher Show was still on TV.
I've come a long way, yet realize I'm just getting started.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and I prefer to have WILD turkey (the bird, of course).
I've studied 3 foreign languages and can't remember any of them. I prefer English anyway.
I have a diverse group of friends and like it that way.
My mom and my sisters are among my dearest friends.
I know what my mom meant when she said, "I hope you have kids just like you someday." Payback is hell. Despite that, my daughters are amazingly strong and independent individuals whom I adore.
I am a grammar snob. Ugh.
I am a recovering pessimist (which makes me an optimist).
The Serenity Prayer...words to live by.
I enjoy poetry...in print, in a smile, in the heart.
I am a very creative, but analytical and Type A personality. I like the dichotomy.
To Kill a Mockingbird is my favorite book. It is a sermon.
Talk books with me and I'll love you forever.
Songs in minor keys tell stories that require no words. I like them the best.
I can play the piano and flute.
Teddy and Cat are my best friends. These childhood animal pals have never let me down.
I am an extrovert (duh).
My favorite nickname is Mom.
Forty. I learned a lot this past year. It wasn't such a bad age after all.
I've entered a doctoral program at the university where I first began my college experience many years ago. I hope I'm never accused of being stagnant. I hope you aren't either.

"Get over the idea that only children should spend time in study. Be a student so long as you still have something to learn and this will mean all your life." ~Henry Doherty

Point taken. xo, ~S.

Choice Words

2011-05-01T11:09:00.001-05:00

~ Saturday ~

I am feeling a bit under the weather (Whatever that means...feeling less than sunshine-y? Definitely!) and am spending the weekend as a soccer mom. Game One of tournament play ended, at least officially, in a loss. The girls, however, played extraordinarily well. That is what matters. My daughter was in the game with maximum effort. Little girls, like butterflies, need no excuse. ~Robert A. Heinlein For lunch we shared conversation (my, she is really growing into a little lady) and laughs. She ordered a grilled cheese sandwich, while I enjoyed New Orleans Tilapia topped with shrimp. Fish on fish. Delicious. And I learned something new: according to Ally, Red Velvet Cupcakes taste better with sprinkles on the cream cheese frosting. I'll trust her judgment. I skipped dessert ~ sort of. My treat involved a bit of shopping. I've been holding on to a gift card since Christmas. Although the gift card remains in my purse, I did find a sweet deal on a pair of shoes. New shoes on my feet = happiness. Always.

* * *

Ally at Mizzou's Columns

Little girls are the nicest things that happen to people. They are born with a little bit of angelshine about them, and though it wears thin sometimes there is always enough left to lasso your heart. ~Alan Beck

Meanwhile, Daughter #1 was reveling over a successful turkey hunt. Hers did not rival the 26-pounder that her little sister took during Youth Season (a fact that Ally will let no one forget...ever). Nevertheless, it was a nice, beautiful bird and provided an apt dinner.

She's the one all the boys loved because she lit up the room, and she's the one all the girls hated for the very same reason.

~S. Brewer

What I wanted most for my daughter was that she be able to soar confidently in her own sky, whatever that may be.

~Helen Claes

It is a cool evening as I type this into my phone, to be e-mailed to Blogger for publishing. (I love technology!) This afternoon, between games, my daughter and I spent some time on the University of Missouri campus. It was a beautiful day on the Quadrangle. At the Columns, I saw a former first grade student, now a freshman in another school district. She hugged me and said, "I thought that was you!" I still remember what she wore on her first day of first grade. She is still as lovely.

* * *

~ Sunday ~

After a bright and early soccer game in semi-final play this morning, the spring soccer season has come to a close and I am preparing for a nap. As much as I'll enjoy the extra free nights to keep up with laundry and homework, I'll miss cheering from the sidelines. There is so much joy in celebrating the endeavors of your children. The most important gift anyone can give a girl is a belief in her own power as an individual, her value without reference to gender, her respect as a person with potential. ~Emilie Buchwald

The week ahead, I hope, will be a productive one. Daughter #1 is slowly bringing things home from her dorm room for the summer and preparing for her overseas adventures. Daughter #2 awaits summer, church camp, and friendships that might [or might not] last a lifetime. And Daughter #3 is counting down the days until kindergarten. Time passes quickly by...which I hope proves true as I embark on this terminal degree. One week to go...then years of study, research, and writing. I am so very, very excited. (!!!)

When you educate a man, you educate an individual, but when you educate a woman, you educate a nation.

~Johnetta B. Cole

If nothing else, my girls can say, "My mom did it. So can I."
xo, ~S.

Sober Thoughts

2011-04-25T15:18:00.007-05:00

Heel against toe.
The line is straight and I am walking.
A drop. "Just one," you say. Poison to my heart.
The line blurs. You become confused...
...have fallen...
...and I am walking...alone...without you.
Heel to toe. Moving on. Alone.

Three years ago today I lost someone I loved ~ someone I love. His demons took him away from me. Too soon. Far too soon.

In the introduction to A Walk with the Serenity Prayer, by Drs. Frank Minirth, Paul Meier, David Congo, and Ms. Janet Congo, it says this: All of us suffer from time to time as we sojourn through life. Some of us honestly admit it, serenely accept inevitable pain, courageously change unnecessary pain, and humbly ask God for wisdom to know the difference.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I lived on rum, I tell you. It's been meat and drink, and man and wife, to me. ~Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island

Wine hath drowned more men than the sea. ~Thomas Fullerton

Drugs or overeating or alcohol or sex, it was all just another way to find peace. To escape what we know. Our education. Our bite of the apple.

~Chuck Palahniuk, Choke

As we became subjects of King Alcohol, shivering denizens of his mad realm, the chilling vapor that is loneliness settled down. It thickened, ever becoming blacker. Some of us sought out sordid places, hoping to find understanding companionship and approval. Momentarily we did -- then would come oblivion and the awful awakening to face the hideous Four Horsemen -- Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, Despair. ~ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS, The Big Book

Letting go of blame + Learning to forgive = Being set free

I still miss you. xo, ~S.

Beans

2011-04-21T14:23:00.000-05:00

"I want that one," she said. "The pink one with beans." Given the description, you'd never guess my little one was selecting a donut. I love Easter time, when bakery offerings are adorned with the colors of happiness...and sometimes even jelly beans. I almost regretted not purchasing one for myself (*sigh*) but, alas, my willpower won the battle...today.

“You can tell a lot about a fellow's character by his way of eating jelly beans.” ~Ronald Reagan

I found this recipe at Meridian Road and am anxious to give it a try in the next few days. It might just be the 'fix' for the current boredom that has settled under my low-carb umbrella. I've tripled the recipe as provided in order to have plenty in the fridge!

Chicken and Parmesan Sandwich Spread

3 cups cooked chicken, chopped very fine
3 Tbsp. Parmesan cheese
3/4 cup sour cream
3/4 tsp. yellow mustard
1 and 1/2 tsp. salt
3/4 tsp. pepper (I think I'll opt for more. Much more.)
3 Tbsp. chili sauce (I intend to use Buffalo sauce here!)
3 Tbsp. mayonnaise

Stir to combine all ingredients. Enjoy!

Remember, the lower the fat content, the higher the carbs.

Enjoy, ~S.

Forecast

2011-04-20T15:53:00.000-05:00

I am guilty. I very often spend too much time dwelling in the past. That is something I strongly dislike about myself. Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. ~Norman Cousins Over the past couple of years I have slowly come to an acceptance and settled on a decision. These words help with the explanation.

Would you keep a chive on your tooth just because you enjoyed last night's potato?

~From the television showBoston Common

We seem to be going through a period of nostalgia, and everyone seems to think yesterday was better than today. I don't think it was, and I would advise you not to wait ten years before admitting today was great. If you're hung up on nostalgia, pretend today is yesterday and just go out and have one hell of a time. ~Art Buchwald

Someone once said that the past is a good place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Wise sentiments. But as a writer, I'm not willing to let go. Instead, I've decided to drag the past along with me, using it as an entrepot for my stories. There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. ~Ernest Hemingway

en·tre·pôt (ŏn'trə-pō')

French, from entreposer, to store : entre, in, among
(from Latin inter-; see inter-) + poser, to place

A pleasant piece of the past reemerged last night. I had the good fortune of visiting with my kindergarten teacher at a local restaurant. She still has the same smiling eyes. I am no longer the five year-old with big blue eyes and long brown hair, the little one who even then talked a bit too much. I've grown up a lot. She hugged me and told me how proud she is of me. Only as high as I reach can I grow, only as far as I seek can I go, only as deep as I look can I see, only as much as I dream can I be. ~Karen Ravn There is something so comforting about a grandmotherly hug to reassure you how very much you matter. Thank you, Mrs. Jones. And speaking of grandmotherly, Mrs. P. came to visit the classroom today. It is Wednesday and we are a part of her regular mid-week routine. She visits two first grade classrooms each week and reads with the students. Last week she celebrated her 82nd birthday. She decorated approximately 5 dozen cupcakes for her first grade friends. Today in my mailbox, there was a glittery thank-you note which read:

Dear Mrs. G and First Grade~

Thank you for making my birthday so special. I loved all of your cards!

See you next week, Mrs. P.

When she appeared today, she was carrying a bucket of these. Happy Easter to you as well, Mrs. P!

Easter Bunny
~complete with jelly bean eyes and licorice whiskers~

I hope, I hope, I hope that someday, when I am in the winter of my life, I will remember my students...hug them...tell them I am still proud of them...and I hope I will remember to write thank you notes (glittery ones, of course), and be so inclined to bring happiness to others ~ by sharing a story, a smile, or a treat sweetly decorated by a loving hand. Whatever you are, be a good one. ~Abraham Lincoln

Tonight's agenda:

Ribbon Cutting Ceremony for my dear childhood friends' shops. I love you Jami Tberry and Shannon. Congrats on a stunning shop. Fabulous!
Youth Gruop at church for Kid 2 and Kid 3.
Laundry, or maybe not.
A no-carb dinner. Seriously, I am getting bored.
To remember: Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself. ~George Bernard Shaw

As I look ahead, I think I'm in the mood for a masterpiece. ~S

Unfold

2011-04-18T17:01:00.002-05:00

lyrics by Marie Digby

What I can remember

Is a lot like water

Trickling down a page

Of the most beautiful colors

I can't quite put my finger down

On the moment that I became like this

You see, I'm the bravest girl

You'll ever come to meet

Yet, I shrink down to nothing

At the thought of someone really seeing me

I think my heart is wrapped around

And tangled up in winding weeds

But, I don't wanna go on living

Being so afraid of showing

Someone else my imperfections

And even though my feet are trembling

Every word I say comes stumbling

I will bare it all

Watch me unfold

Unfold, unfold

These hands that I hold behind my back

Are bound and broken from my own doing

And I can't feel anything anymore

I need a touch to remind me

I'm still real

'Cause, I don't wanna go on living

Being so afraid of showing

Someone else my imperfections

And even though my feet are trembling

Every word I say comes stumbling

I will bare it all

Watch me unfold

Unfold, unfold

My soul

It's dying to be free

I can't live the rest of my life so guarded

It's dying to be free

It's up to me to choose

What kind of life I lead

'Cause, I don't wanna go on living

Being so afraid of showing

Someone else my imperfections

And even though my feet are trembling

Every word I say comes stumbling

I will bare it all

Watch me unfold, unfold, unfold

Unfold, unfold, unfold

I will allow someone to love me

Perhaps I've posted these words before. It doesn't matter. They are important to me once again. And that is enough commentary on that.

The next month is incredibly busy and while I enjoy time to relax, I also thrive on packed agendas. There is Easter, followed by a weekend of soccer tournaments, followed by a weekend of doctoral orientation, followed by a weekend of, well, I know for sure this one will involve a bookstore! Where is human nature so weak as in the bookstore? ~Henry Ward Beecher Those in-between-the-weekend times will be dotted with soccer practices, 3 x 3 games, church youth group, laundry, more endless loads of laundry, followed by laundry. Ugh.

Nothing quite fuels my thoughts {my travels} like really good books. Too, they encourage my creativity. I was once told that if you desire to write well, you must first read. Certainly an apt consideration. I came across this quote by Gordon Getty, one of America's wealthiest men and a noteworthy composer. It is apparent that the bookstore...the pages found therein...inspire him as well. I was in Paris at an English-language bookstore. I picked up a volume of Dickinson's poetry. I came back to my hotel, read 2,000 of her poems and immediately began composing in my head. I wrote down the melodies even before I got to a piano.

There are other things to make me smile:

My students, ages 6 and 7, loudly singing along to classic James Taylor hits in the classroom. Lovely.
Laptop shopping. If only I could make a decision!
This Greta Kisslock purse, soon to be mine.
A one-week, 8-pound weightloss on the scale.
Seeing my daughter's summer travel itinerary...Abu Dhabi, Rome, Amsterdam. *sigh*
The impending storm. It brings out the best in me. xoxo

Happy Monday! ~ S.

Privilege

2011-04-11T16:01:00.154-05:00

"To achieve your goals & remain successful, you must be willing to step over the line & fully commit to change." Tosca Reno

When you have daughters, the examples you set are everything. The bad ones (examples, that is) unfortunately seem to be the ones most oft remembered. I'm skipping over those. I don't want the reminders, and my daughters haven't forgotten them anyway. Needless to say, I'm focusing on a few of the things I've done right...

Last weekend I again found myself in St. Louis. This time the occasion was Daughter #1's induction into an honor society at the university. She is [almost] perfect [so says her mother] and I am very proud of her. She embodies a maturity and loveliness of spirit that is inspiring. Daughter #3 and I then spent the afternoon with Daughter #1 and her boyfriend. Forest Park was the perfect setting for an early dinner, conversation, and dreams of paddle boats while feeding the ducks.

Daughter #2 stayed behind to hunt with her dad during Youth Turkey Season. I find it funny that my fashion-designer-wannabe-who-dreams-of-Paris is rather proficient with a shotgun. Her first bird: 26 pounds with a 10-inch beard. What a way to start! That's a BIG bird!

And earlier this week, Daughter #3 was registered for Kindergarten. My baby is not such a baby anymore. And while I will happily enjoy the hundreds upon hundreds of dollars (multiply that by 7) that won't be paid to preschool each month, I'm left wondering where the last five years have gone. It is true ~ time certainly passes quickly when you are having fun.

Speaking of which, surely it was just yesterday that Daughter #1 knocked out her front tooth during her first week of Kindergarten. Yet suddenly the anticipation grows as our family prepares to meet his family...the boyfriend whose family will take her overseas this summer. Three weeks to be spent between Abu Dhabi and Rome. Let curiosity be your magnifying glass, McKenzie, and the world, your experiment. "The important thing is not so much that every child should be taught, as that every child should be given the wish to learn." ~John Lubbock

As for me, I'm preparing for a summer vacation that will extend for years and involve textbooks. And research. And writing. That's the example I want to set for my daughters ~ never to grow stagnant. To grab the world, however you meet it, by the hands...and run.

The mother's heart is the child's schoolroom.

~Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887)

I love you, sweet girls. Always.

Childish Days

2011-04-07T13:59:00.000-05:00

She's quite a character, my little one. Last week she earned her second set of stitches. Twelve. That's nine more than the last time. When she cried because she didn't look beautiful with whiskers on her chin, I reminded her that only tough girls endure these things...that she is indeed tougher than her mother, because I am still awaiting my first set. Monday night we returned to the Emergency Room for removal of those whiskers. The plastic surgeon inspected the injury, confirmed the stitches should be removed now versus later (to prevent a 'railroad track' scar), but insisted that the skin would remain quite fragile for another week. Lovely. Let's hope her chin heals super, super quickly.

As if that didn't provide enough excitement for the start of the week, Lane decided to paint her own nails. (I fell asleep first. That's when she moved the kitchen chair over to the cabinet and grabbed the forbidden fruit.) According to her version of the story, she 'messed up' and tried to fix the mistakes by washing her hands and feet. (No, Lane. It doesn't work that way.) Needless to say, she had bright fuchsia polish smeared everywhere. I made this discovery just minutes before leaving the house for work the next morning, and so... Carrying a bottle of nail polish remover along, I greeted the preschool teacher. Our conversation began something like this. "I realize this isn't in your job description, but I suppose whether or not her hands and legs and feet remain looking this way, is dependent upon how embarrassed you are to take her out in public for the field trip." Her teacher loves me, or loves Lane, or was embarrassed by my daughter's appearance. When I retrieved her at 5:00, she looked rather tidy. Thank you, Miss Susan.

Beyond that, the week has been busy and as a result, I've fallen behind on nearly everything I've needed to accomplish. This has left me feeling a bit blue. (The weather today isn't helping either.) I did find this in my classroom, though, and it made me smile. It is a note from a sweet student, my first grader who is now in middle school:

Dear Mrs. G,

I want to be a teacher. Yeah, that's right. A teacher. If I learn more, I'm smart. Then I go on and on and on until I know everything. You are very nice and I love first grade. In fact, I want to stay here forever. You are the best teacher a child could have.

Love, Alec

I knew I saved that note for a reason: that I'd find it again someday at just the right moment...and be happy.

Summary

2011-04-01T22:21:00.004-05:00

Sometimes the weekend is an epilogue to my week.

Sometimes, the opposite is true.

My middle-daughter-soccer-player-fashionista and I headed to St. Louis last weekend for league games that were eventually canceled due to ~ what else? ~ snow, of course. This is the Midwest. Among other things, we're known for having weather that doesn't necessarily make much sense. Such was the case on Saturday. We were halfway to our destination when Mother Nature decided we'd better stay indoors and not play soccer, but the possibility for two games on Sunday was still strong. Because my King Suite had been reserved at an unbelievable price (aka, a steal), I opted to press onward. Besides, it would have cost more in gas to return home and then journey to St. Louis yet again the following day. Ally and I decided to head to The Hill for Italian, one of our favorite old neighborhoods in the area. It was worth the 40 mph drive on eastbound Interstate 70 via treacherous roadways.

The Hill, Part I

Missouri Baking Company, The Purchases:

Ravioli, my favorite sugared shortbread cookie with pecans. Three dozen. Heaven.
Strawberry Tarts
Pecan Sticky Buns
2 Aprons ~ one for me, one for Suzy (whose grandparents used to live nearby many, many years ago)

The Hill, Part II

Rigazzi's, The Fare:

a Small Cheese Pizza for the kiddo, with a Fudgesicle for dessert
Chicken Picante...red sauce with white wine, mushrooms and a hint of bacon ~ Delizioso!

There is something familiar about this neighborhood. I have no Italian heritage, yet the area reminds me of my grandparents, of a time when neighbors knew each other's names. It feels like home.

My evening was spent reading, shopping with Ally The Fashion Plate, and watching her swim. For the first night in a long time I slept well...and late...and then enjoyed my favorite breakfast: Biscuits and Gravy. And as if I hadn't spent enough money shopping the evening before, I was confident of this fact by Sunday afternoon. Ally and I met up with my other two daughters...one returning to college and saying farewell to Spring Break, and the other just along for the ride. Happiness. Here's hoping this weekend is just as fine.

Things That Recently Made Me Smile:

A sign in a shop that read:

Walk with the dreamers, the believers, the courageous, the cheerful, the planners, the doers, the successful people with their heads in the clouds and their feet on the ground. Let their spirit ignite a fire within you to leave this world better than when you found it.

This quote:

"Then we sat on the edge of the earth with our feet dangling over the side, and marveled that we had found each other."
~Erik Dillard

A closing bookstore (sad) sale (glad):

I came away with two Faulkners, a Willa Cather and a Welty. Classic titles for my evergrowing library.

Insert 'smile' here.

This blog:

(It's written in German and much is lost during translation, but the photos are so inspiring.)

...and so my week was a mere footnote to a pretty stellar weekend. I hope this next one proceeds accordingly.

Dear Amy,

2011-03-31T15:17:00.000-05:00

I cannot remember the moment you became my little sister. I only know that you have always been there (minus the first twenty-two months, which were spent honing my leadership skills, surely anticipating your eventual arrival). Typical of siblings, we have not always gotten along. Rather, we've intensely argued at times, but in such a way that is only possible between people who love each other so very much, a John 15:13 kind of love.

A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost. ~Marion C. Garretty

Those who know us best can immediately enumerate our differences:

You are a redhead and I am a brunette.
You have green eyes and mine are blue.
You are fair-skinned and I am not.
You look like mom and I look exactly like dad.
You often prefer to be passive. I am anything but.
You were always the good girl and I was the big sister who would fight to protect you. (I would not let others be mean to my little sis. That was my job, and I took it seriously. This much remains the same.) "Sisters annoy, interfere, criticize. Indulge in monumental sulks, in huffs, in snide remarks. Borrow. Break. Monopolize the bathroom. Are always underfoot. But if catastrophe should strike, sisters are there. Defending you against all comers." ~Pam Brown
You are creative beyond measure and while I try to be as well, my analytical mind too often gets in the way.
You draw and paint and create. I write ~ just like this post. It is my birthday card to you.

True, we are also similar.

Sometimes your kids drive you crazy. I feel that way about mine occasionally too.
We are both public servants: you, a minister's wife. Me, a teacher.
We had the happiest of childhoods, and shared the sadness of heartbreak.
We loved our dad even when he couldn't remember to love us back, and we continue to be blessed by an angel mother. (She is our gift from God.)

You are a support and encouragement and while I am the older one, I somehow feel larger than life because I stand on your shoulders. You understand when I smile about Spring Garden memories or laugh about Hee Haw jigs (and ugly yearbook photos from 1974 ~ you remember her name). And sometimes your beliefs are prophetic...like years ago, when you wished a particular educational journey for me; the one that slowly, slowly I came to accept for myself. You are the one who colors my world and reminds me that even in an open, endless field of achievement and goals and dreams ~ there are flowers. I love you. Happy Birthday!

xoxo, ~S.

To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time. ~Clara Ortega

Watashi no Tomodachi

2011-03-24T16:56:00.003-05:00

In 2003 I finished my graduate work for a Master's degree in Educational Administration. The lessons I carried could not compare to those garnered on my trip to Tokyo, the subsequent graduation gift that prompted my need for a passport. Never in a million years would I have imagined traveling to The Land of the Rising Sun...but that was before. I knew little about this island nation beyond what geography classes had taught me. And there were glimpses of the culture gleaned from Japanese language coursework, studied years before while a student at the University of Missouri. My instructors were the real deal; they were Japanese ~ and my window to the Pacific.

My dear friends, the Jones-Ma family, have been impacted by the recent natural disasters. Fortunately they are safe, yet so many of their adopted countrymen are anything but. This family lives in a highrise complex on a beautiful canal in Tokyo. (How well I remember standing on their balcony, overlooking that canal while the evening lights shone on the water. It was peaceful.) They had prepared an Emergency Tsunami Kit in anticipation of fleeing to higher ground. Since then, the suitcase has been reorganized and ventured to Guam, to safety, with Jamee and her two children. Soon they will return and [hopefully] resume to life as they knew it ~ or something like that.

When I am asked about my trip to Japan, my first inclination is to reference my impression of its people. They are a humble lot, genteel, respectful beyond compare. I remember being dropped off in the middle of Tokyo with my traveling companion. We were "so American" and I am nowhere near fluent in the Japanese language...yet I needed to exchange currency. I sat in a bank...doing official bank business...with a language barrier between me and them. As I look back, I marvel that the transaction proceeded so smoothly. There is an international language between friends, allies, that requires no words. There is a heavenly language too...It's called prayer. Japan needs ours.

継続は力なり。

Keizoku wa chikara nari.

Perseverance is strength.

Happy-ness

2011-03-20T20:43:00.000-05:00

My mailbox received a big hug the other day. "We are pleased to welcome you to a doctoral program designed to provide you with a meaningful study and applied research experience." And thus, very soon I'll be wearing apparel emblazoned with this:

I am bound for Mizzou...again after so many years...and I am happy. I do not fear failure. I only fear the slowing up of the engine inside of me which is pounding, saying, "Keep going, someone must be on top, why not you?" ~General George S. Patton (Thanks, Chruma!)

My friend Connie said she wished I had a mirror to see what others see in me. It is incredible to have dear ones to love you through your disbelief ~ your hesitance at accepting that you can do great things if only you'll try. My little sister told me years ago that she was confident I'd pursue a terminal degree someday. Ridiculous, I thought. I'll concede and acknowledge that she's scored a point for that one. Thanks, Amy, for seeing something in me that I never imagined for myself. Today I am jumping up and down with delight. I. am. going. back. to. school. I am, I am, I am!! But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:31

I realize that my days of leisurely reading (*sigh*) may be numbered for the next, say, several years. And hence, I'm literally cramming much of this into the next six weeks before professional readings and research commence. “No matter how busy you may think you are, you must find time for reading, or surrender yourself to self-chosen ignorance.” ~Confucius Here's a peek at the good stuff on my agenda...

My Bookshelf, My Blogshelf

“To read is to fly: it is to soar to a point of vantage which gives a view over wide terrains of history, human variety, ideas, shared experience and the fruits of many inquiries.” ~ A C Grayling, Financial Times (in a review of A History of Reading by Alberto Manguel)

The Ghost Soldiers

by Pulitzer Prize winner James Tate

(a collection of 'poems'...a recommendation taken under advisement and a worthwhile addition to my library)

Unbroken

by Laura Hillenbrand

(a World War II story of survival and resilience, told using vivid imagery...another suggestion duly noted and finding a prized spot on my bookshelf)

“Give me a man or woman who has read a thousand books and you give me an interesting companion. Give me a man or woman who has read perhaps three and you give me a dangerous enemy indeed.” ~Anne Rice, The Witching Hour

www.danatanamachi.com

Dana Tanamachi is a graphic artist living in Brooklyn. The chalk art found here is mesmerizing. Absolutely stunning. I want to draw like this someday.

There is nothing I don't love at Posey and Bloom. The flowers, the character...When you visit, you'll see a bit of my childhood at Grandma Bea's.

One Lucky Day...The site itself is art. Adventures. Friends. Things to do and places to see. What's not to love?

I do not like pretzels ~ or so I thought. Then I saw these. Thank you, Junk Garden Girl.

This blog is pure creativity and I'll be visiting often. And check out the Virtual Weekly Wardrobe she provides. Pure genius.

The creative and inspirational journal of Cathe Holden. You've got to see it to believe it. This one will soon be added to the list on the right. You'll find her under 'Ingenuity'.

"Finding design, beauty, and function in motherhood." Food Friday. Virtual wardrobes. Creativity. This one gets added to the list as well.

the scent of water

Here is the author's About Me blurb: Writer, picture taker, and maker of things: I drink too much tea, stare out of too many windows, and am a lifelong devotee to the beauty of the quotidian. That's all it took and I was hooked. In the event your appetite has not been properly whetted, look here: (Yes, I'm hungry too!)

Just a bit ago while taking my daughter to soccer practice, the sun broke through a cloudy sky and strong rays were shining across the road. My youngest said, "Hey Mom, those lines look like God is talking." She is only five, yet she knows this much is true... I saw these words somewhere recently and think they fit well in this post: Happiness is a place between too little and too much. Yep, I'm wearing a smile. xo, ~S.

Baby Love

2011-03-13T22:02:00.002-05:00

Dear Lane,
Has it really been five years since you taught me, once again, about the power of a mother's love? You are one of the three most incredible surprises of my life, another blessing that I did not request but somehow needed. (Thank you, God.) You, my little one, are growing up...yet remain my baby. Always.

I have learned much in these past five years. If it were not for you, I would never have developed relationships with pediatric neurosurgeons or pediatric urologists. I would never have experienced the fear associated with so many scans and tests of a young child. I might never have truly appreciated the power of prayer and the helplessness a mother feels when there is no healing in her hands. But too, I might not have otherwise known the joy when all is well and peace finally comes.

Today you asked if you could finally go to kindergarten. It is hard to believe you are ready. You are so very, very smart! You have begun to read a bit, and you write me love notes with your left hand (your LEFT hand!). And your artwork...I love the way you draw boats on a stormy sea, simply because you know it reminds me of Nantucket. You make me smile each time you finish your sentences with that little giggle, and you never cease to amaze me each time you ask for a pet rat. (The answer is still ~ and forever will be ~ NO.)

Happy Birthday to you, sweet girl. I love you with every ounce of my being. May you always hold this truth in your heart.
xoxo, Mommy

Lane...channeling Elton John

Lane, my Baby girl...

Lane...the way you used to write your name...when you were still little, when you were still four.

Me

2011-03-10T16:53:00.000-06:00

“Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.” ~Langston Hughes

It has been raining and is dreary, still. I am not opposed to this weather but am growing tired of adjusting my thermostat accordingly. I'd really like to forget about my furnace until, say, October. The urge to run and play is growing stronger. This evening, I'm afraid my playground will not extend beyond the treadmill. "Rain! whose soft architectural hands have power to cut stones, and chisel to shapes of grandeur the very mountains."

~Henry Ward Beecher

source, dressdesigndecor

This girl is a lot like me. I appreciate the contradiction of the feminine clothes while perched upon a tree branch. It reminds me of long ago days and my mother's admonitions to behave like a lady...while simultaneously my father was teaching me how to deliver an effective right hook, should the occasion for defense ever arise. I was only in the second grade. “A tough girl, more than anything else, is a girl who doesn’t care if you’re shocked. A tough girl doesn’t sit like a lady or laugh like a little girl. She goes where she shouldn’t, and when she gets there she does exactly what she wants…and she likes it.” ~Claudia Shear, writer/actress, “Dirty Blonde” The header of the blog, dress design decor, says this: "A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous." Perfect. I think this bracelet fits the part. Maybe I'll wear it tomorrow...

source, dream vintage etsy

I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That`s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty... you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. ~J.D. Salinger

I just had a rather unpleasant phone conversation with my child's school counselor. Thankfully, he appreciates her personality... yet we both know that the bricks of a schoolhouse are not an ideal canvas for graffiti (especially when you've signed your name). She is only ten years old. I think I just 'grew' another wrinkle. It's time to focus on the positive, lest I begin screaming.

Things that made me smile today:

Three Irish Folktales by Tomie dePaola, a favorite author and illustrator: Jamie O'Rourke and the Big Potato, Jamie O'Rourke and the Pooka, and a class favorite ~ Fin M'Coul and the Giant of Knockmany Hill. The illustrations remind me of the quintessential childhood.
A student, noticing an eruption in the back of her mouth, commented that she is getting her "7 year-old mold." Molar, sweet girl. The word is molar. God forbid you're growing mold back there.
The words of Faulkner, an indulgent escape.
My preschool daughter's delight in acquiring new verbage: her recent favorites? Unbelievable and ridiculous. Today, I have a special affinity for both.

xo, ~S.

Mental Floss

2011-03-08T16:24:00.000-06:00

source, Rhonna Designs

I am anxious. Yesterday morning I spent hours at Mizzou. There were problem-solving activities, writing assessments, and an interview with professors from the statewide coordinating committee. The candidates for this next cohort of the Educational Leadership and Policy Analysis doctoral program are impressive. The competition is strong. I keep reminding myself of Coach York's words from the other day ~ "You are supposed to feel this way before any competition. If you do not, then you aren't mentally prepared. I think you're ready." I am ready. I just don't know if the university is ready for me. I am trusting that whatever happens, whether the committee sends regrets or extends an invitation to research, the answer is meant to be. I am prayerfully petitioning for strength to accept the response. A coworker wished me luck and sent me this: For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

I did not realize the amount of energy I'd expounded (over many months) while contemplating yesterday's activities. Then, in less than four short hours, it was all over...and I was exhausted. I celebrated my efforts with a lunch of Lobster Ravioli and Crab Rangoon dip. I continued by treating myself to three new books: Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, Willa Cather's Sapphira and the Slave Girl, and a contemporary novel ~ Abraham Verghese's Cutting for Stone. Dessert consisted of afternoon girl talk at my pal's new shop, CORK. It was nice to spend time with longtime friends, Jami Thornsberry and Angie Goodin. Beyond all of that, a lack of sleep and some rather dreary weather has stirred a migraine. I'm fighting it, however, with doses of medication and dreams of Spring. A vacation here, Croatia, would be very nice.

source, Full House

I'm signing off before I doze. I'm planning an evening of spaghetti (with homemade sauce of tomatoes steeped in garlic) and real Italian meatballs, a large glass of skim milk, and a bedtime story. William Faulkner will do nicely tonight!

~S.

Walking Alone

2011-03-04T16:26:00.001-06:00

It is dark this afternoon. Thundering. An intense storm is brewing...making me smile. Tonight I think I'll work on a few pages of the book that never seems to get written. There is nothing quite like this weather to put me in a writer's frame of mind. My day began with a reference to Poe (thanks, Bob) and provided the proper segue into a thunderstorm and my impending creative outlook. Poetic words like these help as well.

"Beauty In Walking Away"

Marie Digby

A light shines off

In the distance

A pale flickering glow

How many times

Do I have to dream

That I could be there

The time is here

And she won't be

Waiting for me

To find the easy way out

I've lost count of the days

That were wasted

There's an answer

In the sound of a train

There is wisdom

Past the bridge on the bay

There's a lifetime

Through the fog

In the rain

There's a beauty

In walking away

I float on the streets

That are empty

Take the path

That the wind only knows

My mind is a whirlwind at times like this. I'm feeling a 'little bit of crazy' going on, and while it's, um, crazy, it's also (I hope) productive. Somehow, before my evening activities commence, I think I'll pull out my copy of Educational Leadership and study...but just for a little while. For now.

Thinking Out Loud

the car is a mess and not ready for a road trip. i don't have time to clean it but what will my mother think? i have groceries to purchase, dinner to cook, and friends to meet in a few short hours. saint louis tomorrow: forest park, the art museum, italian on the hill ~ either rigazzi's or zia's ~ then an italian bakery for my allyssa caroline. fondue with mckenzie ashten. hanging with my girls and mom and little sis. i should be preparing for this doctoral interview but a weekend of culture goes a long way in that vein. coach york called me for a pep talk. coach york called ME for a pep talk! he thinks i'm ready. he thinks i'm ready!!! so do i. i really, really think i am...

The woman who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd. But the woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has ever been.

~Albert Einstein

Time

2011-03-03T21:59:00.003-06:00

Dear Dad,

There is an old clock, centuries old, that sits on my piano. Grandpa had an affinity for fixing clocks and this one was no exception...

In 1941, you began your entrance into this world at your parents' home. You were a large baby, and grandpa had no inclination to assist with childbirth. He summoned the doctor. The physician insisted it would be a long night and expressed his intent to return later, once labor had progressed. Grandpa had other plans. He had no qualms about brandishing his shotgun to keep the gentleman at bay. Hours later you arrived, all ten pounds of you, and only then did the doctor make his escape.

...Many years later, Grandpa was the one summoned to the old doctor's house. The man's clock had stopped working and your father was asked to fix it. "You don't remember me, do you?" The doctor replied that he did not, at which time your dad proceeded to remind him of the long ago story. Upon its delivery, after the clock was successfully running again, the doctor (unable to hold a grudge) gifted the piece to Grandpa...who then gifted it to you...who then gifted it to me. I remember this story. I remember you.

Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life. ~William Faulkner

In this photograph, you are thirty years old. Today, you would have been seventy...if only you were here. It has been nearly three years since I last kissed you goodbye, but I had already been missing you long before you passed away. As I enter the second half of my life, I often wish you were near. Could we see when and where we are to meet again, we would be more tender when we bid our friends goodbye. ~Marie Louise De La Ramee

"Old as she was, she still missed her Daddy sometimes." ~Gloria Naylor

This is the dad of my heart ~ the grown-up kid who lived and laughed and loved me, the dad who kept his demons at bay, the dad who would be proud of me today ~ the dad I carry with me, always:

Opportunities fly by while we sit regretting the chances we have lost, and the happiness that comes to us we heed not, because of the happiness that is gone. ~Jerome K. Jerome, 1889 Today is your birthday, and I am marching on. I love and miss you. Fortunately, Mom loves me enough for the both of you. That is what sustains me.

xoxo, your Stephanie

Perspective

2011-03-02T16:30:00.003-06:00

Even after all this time, the sun never says to the earth, "You owe me." Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky.
~Hafiz of Persia

Absolutely beautiful. This personification goes a long way in making my heart smile. Love it.

Today was a sunny spring day here in the middle of somewhere. At 60 degrees, we experienced a heat wave...and it felt good. My students are absolutely incredible and, as usual, amazed me again today. That felt good as well. When reading their response journals (in which they engaged in a bit of character analysis), I came across some pretty amazing vocabulary for a first grader. A master can tell you what he expects of you. A teacher, though, awakens your own expectations. ~Patricia Neal

"Don't bunt. Aim out of the ball park. Aim for the company of immortals." ~David Ogilvy

This is exactly why my first graders write like THIS...because they believe they can (and because their teacher knew this about them all along). I try diligently to teach by example. I talk to my students...write with my students...in the very same way I do with you. I presuppose that if they question my words, they'll ask the meaning...which they do, and then subsequently use in them in their own conversations and writing. Much like a Mother Hen, I am proud of my little chicks. I am glad they do not question their intelligence. I certainly don't. High achievement always takes place in the framework of high expectation. ~Jack Kinder

That's how many days until:

I am anxiously awaiting my doctoral program interview. For once in my life, I am not nervous about something so HUGE. I am so excited, so ready. I've made it this far...I hope, I hope, I HOPE the parting word is, simply,

YES.

Two dear friends. Two cherished comments.

She said, "You, my friend, are an anomaly." He said, "Remember that you have a fan club." No one has better friends than I do.

Notes to self:

We advance on our journey only when we face our goal, when we are confident and believe we are going to win out. ~Orison Swett Marden

Whatever we expect with confidence becomes our own self-fulfilling prophecy. ~Brian Tracy

Success isn't a result of spontaneous combustion. You must set yourself on fire. ~Arnold H. Glasow

The rung of a ladder was never meant to rest upon, but only to hold a man's foot long enough to enable him to put the other somewhat higher. ~Thomas Henry Huxley, An Address to the Students of the Faculty of Medicine in University College, London, May 18, 1870

The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me. ~Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

You were born to win...but to be a winner, you must plan to win, prepare to win, and expect to win. ~Zig Ziglar

Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goal. ~Henry Ford

It is never too late to be who you might have been. ~George Eliot

The Good Life

2011-02-28T17:17:00.000-06:00

“Love life, engage in it, give it all you've got. Love it with a passion, because life truly does give back, many times over, what you put into it.” ~Maya Angelou

Things that made me smile recently:

a text from a friend that reads, "What is the name of that yummy perfume you wear?" I love this girl. I have for years and always will.

the sight of a bright green refrigerator in my classroom, the one bought for me by my uncles and aunts upon my high school graduation a LONG time ago, the one I took to Mizzou as a college freshman. I hope to be a student there again...very soon. (I'm keeping my fingers crossed.)
my preschooler, annoyed with a classmate, expressing her desire that he be eaten by a shark. I am not a bad mother: I did talk to her about the importance of kindness and friendship. I am amused, though, at the problem-solving skills of a four year-old.
my ten year-old's discovery of the Psychedelic Furs...which met with her approval.
my youngest daughter's love of her two Beatles t-shirts. Again, she is the ripe old age of four.
my college freshman's trust in my ability to edit her essays
drawing cartoon daughters on the table at church
these quotes:

"Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful...this, far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb." -Sir Winston Churchill

Do what you feel in your heart to be right, for you'll be criticized anyway.~Eleanor Roosevelt

Find a purpose in life so big it will challenge every capacity to be at your best. ~David O. McKay

these photos...because I've learned that sometimes the best libraries aren't filled with books. Can you read the unwritten words?

source, A Country Farmhouse

source, Faded Plains

source, My Sweet Savannah

Hope is the anchor of the soul, the stimulus to action, and the incentive to achievement.

You are leaving port under sealed orders and in a troubled period. You cannot know whither you are going or what you are to do. But why not take the Pilot on board who knows the nature of your sealed orders from the outset, and who will shape your entire voyage accordingly? He knows the shoals and the sandbanks, the rocks and the reefs, He will steer you safely into that celestial harbor where your anchor will be cast for eternity. Let His almighty nail-pierced hands hold the wheel, and you will be safe. ~Peter Marshall

Red Milk

2011-02-24T16:59:00.001-06:00

It is snowing. Again. Our blizzard melted into a balmy introduction of what is proving to be an elusive springtime, and now this? The groundhog must be laughing at his joke as the rain, then snow, falls into troughs of mud (formerly known as "the yard"). It IS only February, I keep reminding myself. It is not the snow that I dread. It's the slop. There are few things more aggravating than an expensive pair of shoes ruined by SLOP. Ugh.

"Winter"

~Tori Amos

Snow can wait

I forgot my mittens

Wipe my nose

Get my new boots on

I get a little warm in my heart

When I think of winter

I put my hand in my father's glove

I run off

Where the drifts get deeper

Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown

I hear a voice

"Your must learn to stand up for yourself

Cause I can't always be around"

He says

* * *

Boys get discovered as winter melts

Flowers competing for the sun

Years go by and I'm here still waiting

Withering where some snowman was

Mirror mirror where's the crystal palace

But I only can see myself

Skating around the truth who I am

But I know dad the ice is getting thin

* * *

Hair is grey

And the fires are burning

So many dreams

On the shelf

You say I wanted you to be proud of me

I always wanted that myself

He says

When you gonna make up your mind

When you gonna love you as much as I do

When you gonna make up your mind

Cause things are gonna change so fast

All the white horses have gone ahead

I tell you that I'll always want you near

You say that things change

My dear

* * *

Yes, things change. As a child I was quite confident, yet so unsure. I certainly never would have done this...

...but I'm finding It is never too late to give up our prejudices. - Henry David Thoreau...and besides, this snake liked me. Interestingly, I had a dream just last week about snakes...what I believed to be venomous Coral snakes. I worried. Surely it was an omen. I never paused to think that perhaps it was a good type of omen. Maybe, afterall, I had actually dreamed of this friendly Red Milk Snake. Today I learned something about myself. Tony Robbins, a motivational speaker, says Live with passion. My senses are primed. Is there any other way, but to live passionately?

"Dreams"

~Priscilla Ahn

I was a little girl alone in my little world who dreamed of a little home for me.

I played pretend between the trees, and fed my houseguests bark and leaves, and laughed in my pretty bed of green.

I had a dream

That I could fly from the highest swing.

I had a dream.

Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park, I asked God who I'm supposed to be.

The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie. I said a prayer and fell asleep.

I had a dream

That I could fly from the highest tree.

I had a dream.

Now I'm old and feeling grey. I don't know what's left to say about this life I'm willing to leave.

I lived it full and I lived it well, there's many tales I've lived to tell. I'm ready now, I'm ready now, I'm ready now to fly from the highest wing.

I had a dream.

Reflection

2011-02-23T16:46:00.000-06:00

A house without books is like a room without windows. ~Heinrich Mann

I keep thinking that at some point I'm going to get back to more of my own "stuff" and use this space to be less-inclusive of others'...you guessed it ~ "stuff". (I have found space below for a bit of that...a bit of me.) The issue is that I am discovering inspiration and happiness in so many other places, and I'm finding ways to bring the joy home. I recently became acquainted with

Carrie Raphael's design.

In her bio, she includes these words in her philosophy: Family, home and
work are harmoniously whole. I never separate one from another... Beauty and function make a house, but family and happiness make it a home.

Bliss.
The very definition.
I love the color of these bedroom walls. They speak one word to me:
Nantucket.
And therein lies a piece of my heart.
*sigh*

Meet Rie. She lives here and she is passionate about Home & Harmony. Me too. It's the very reason I am where I am, doing what I do. I've only just met her, yet love her already.

As for home...today my family ~ four of us ~ hung out at my mom's house, painting while she was away at work. The girls were surprisingly cordial to one another; the husband and I were, too (surprisingly cordial, that is...insert a chuckle here). I had some time to revisit my childhood while there. It was quite a little journey. If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older. ~Tom Stoppard In the room where the grandchildren now play are toys that my sister and I once once claimed as our own. There, on the floor, is the bear with a pullstring, the one I received for my first birthday. There, too, is the high chair and crib that my very talented paternal grandfather made for us to share. Dolls have been strategically placed, positioned by the latest generation of little ones, and have now found company with so many, many legos. The Fisher Price people ~ and camper and boat and school bus and school house and parking garage and village ~ are there, too. My favorite piece of that ensemble is the toilet, the one whose lid opens and allows the Fisher Price campers a bit of relief. I've always found that to be quite progressive for the early 70s.

There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again. ~Elizabeth Lawrence What drew me in though, what seemed to whisper my name, was the bookshelf. The words contained there have been mine for decades...from my earliest books (with my name inside, and "from Grandma" or "from Aunt Esther" on the endpaper), to one that proved significant in the adolescent years: Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume.

(I wonder if my mom ever really knew the giggles that accompanied the exercise destined to "increase our busts." This is both ridiculous and hilarious to me now.) Most importantly, there are Bibles. The greatest lessons came from these.

Thank you, Mom.

You may have tangible wealth untold;

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you can never be -

I had a mother who read to me.

~Strickland Gillilan

My mother read to me. She collected books for me. She collected books for herself. Her family room still contains a library...books that are hers, and law enforcement books that were my dad's. What we remember from childhood we remember forever - permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted, eternally seen. ~Cynthia Ozick I could never have known how my mother's love of reading, and her gift of the same, would impact what I ultimately chose to do with my life. There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in. ~Graham Greene, The Power and the Glory I'm still trying to figure it out (what I'm doing with my life) but those who know me immediately sense the keen passion for literacy. I teach children to read and write ~ creatively, reflectively. I encourage children to discover the world around them, whether they travel by plane or by print. The stories of childhood leave an indelible impression, and their author always has a niche in the temple of memory from which the image is never cast out to be thrown on the rubbish heap of things that are outgrown and outlived. ~Howard Pyle I hope, I hope, I hope my daughters will love books forever too.

I would be most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves. ~Anna Quindlen, "Enough Bookshelves,"

New York Times, 7 August 1991

For you, McKenzie, from my well-read childhood

An ordinary man can... surround himself with two thousand books... and thenceforward have at least one place in the world in which it is possible to be happy. ~Augustine Birrell

* * *

I received a letter the other day from the University of Missouri. As I unfolded it, a parking hangtag fell the the floor: a good sign! I have decided to pursue a Doctorate in Educational Leadership and Policy Analysis. The letter confirmed that my application dossier has been recommended for the next stage...interviews and writing assessments. Thanks, mom, for laying the foundation a very, very long time ago. I love you.

The scholar only knows how dear these silent, yet eloquent, companions of pure thoughts and innocent hours become in the season of adversity. When all that is worldly turns to dross around us, these only retain their steady value. ~Washington Irving

The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as the charm of music dwells not in the tones but in the echoes of our hearts. ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

To sit alone in the lamplight with a book spread out before you, and hold intimate converse with men of unseen generations - such is a pleasure beyond compare. ~Kenko Yoshida

Spring Fever

2011-02-16T16:08:00.001-06:00

Today I'm feeling it.

jones(jōnz):the undeniable passion or love for someone or something.

Jones Design Company ~ 'tis THE definition. I've spent soooo much time at this site lately.

addiction(ə-dĭk'shən):the condition of being habitually or compulsively occupied with or involved in something.

Emily is a stay-at-home mom of four. A wife. A business owner. Emily is Christ's; hence the blessings she both gives and receives. All images and loveliness posted today are hers...not mine. I couldn't help but share.

Of my three daughters, only one is possibly young enough to appreciate these. I'm making them soon. I wonder how Lane will like wearing them with her new taekwondo uniform?? You can find the tutorial on Jones Design Company's January 14, 2001 post, or by clicking here!

Here is a bit more yumminess. Per the information on the site, the recipe was "created by the ladies of Liddabit Sweets courtesy of O magazine." Since sea salt is a new staple in my pantry, I'm excited to make these:

Sea Salt Caramels

Photo via Jones Design Company

Servings: Makes about 125 one-inch pieces

◦1 3/4 cup sugar
◦1 can evaporated milk
◦3/4 cup heavy cream
◦3/4 cup light corn syrup
◦2 Tbsp. butter
◦1/4 tsp. vanilla extract
◦1/2 Tbsp. coarse sea salt
◦Oil or cooking spray

Directions

Active time: 30 minutes
Total time: 1 hour, 30 minutes

In a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan, bring sugar, evaporated milk, and heavy cream to a boil over medium heat. Add corn syrup and continue cooking until mixture reaches 230°.

Add butter and vanilla; continue cooking, stirring constantly, until caramel reaches 240°. Remove from heat, stir in salt, and carefully pour into a lightly oiled 9″ x 13″ baking dish (parchment paper in the bottom of the pan is helpful).

Let cool at least 1 hour. Invert onto a cutting board covered with waxed or parchment paper and cut into 1-inch pieces with a sharp, lightly oiled knife. Caramels can be wrapped in waxed or parchment paper or cellophane. (To serve candy-store style, wrap individual pieces in parchment paper and secure the ends with a simple twist.) Store airtight at cool room temperature (around 65°) or in the refrigerator; will keep up to 3 weeks.

* * *

That's it for now. The weather is gorgeous. It's SEVENTY degrees and the recent Blizzard of 2011 is fading into a distant memory. I'm off to turn a cartwheel or two (or ten). ~S.

Love is in the Air

2011-02-15T18:17:00.006-06:00

A Valentine dinner date at a Thai food restaurant. White Chocolate Strawberry Truffles by way of Arizona. Paper valentines from my students, many of which informed me that "Justin Bieber loves you." Mom's sugar cookies...
Love, Love, Love.

Ten Ways to Love

Listen without interrupting. (Proverbs 18)

Speak without accusing. (James 1:19)

Give without sparing. (Proverbs 21:26)

Pray without ceasing. (Colossians 1:9)

Answer without arguing. (Proverbs 17:1)

Share without pretending. (Ephesians 4:15)

Enjoy without complaint. (Philippians 2:14)

Trust without wavering. (Corinthians 13:7)

Forgive without punishing. (Colossians 3:13)

Promise without forgetting. (Proverbs 13:12

I love this blog. I love the second picture from the left, in the top row of this banner. (I'd love to make it my studio.) And I love this picture from the BARNHOUSE. The gate reminds me of a place from childhood. The snowy tracks cause me to wonder about the traveler.

I love the inspiration I find here, at Tricia Foley of New York.

And this staircase...from what source, I haven't a clue.

Love it.

There are other things about which to wax sentimental. Perhaps the day's favorite is this: While reading my youngest a bedtime story (a book that was first her eldest sister's, who is now away at college), she informed me that she'd found a small tear in a page. "Don't worry, Mom. I fixed it." I love her ingenuity.

Band-aid Cure

And one more thing before I go. I found an incredible site and wanted to share. Click here (opt for the English version), choose a photo, and generate! Suddenly your image has aged, oh, 100 years or so.

And now I'm off to enjoy the weather. By Thursday the temperature should climb into the upper 60s. I'm ready for Spring...and the smell of rain. I love that too! ~S.

Where the Heart Is

2011-02-14T13:14:00.014-06:00

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. ~William Shakespeare I alternately love and loathe Valentine's Day. Sometimes it's about happiness and sometimes, well, sometimes it's just about wishes. Today, I'm wishing YOU happiness. xoxo

Let your joy rise to the surface. I discovered these words on a fellow blog. (Thank you, Mary Ruffle.) There are places that make my heart swell. Aside from Nantucket and Cape Cod, the Smokies are the only place that have such an intense effect on me, the kind you carry with you long after you've departed, the kind that lives in you as a ne'er-to-be-forgotten memory. And so today I'm not only thinking about the people I love; but I'm also thinking of the places. I'm longing for a road trip. I love a good journey, whether it be one of the heart, or one of the road. What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us. ~Helen Keller

The most beautiful view is the one I share with you. ~Author Unknown

My Mountains, My View, from My Cabin

“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.”

~Freya Stark

Nantucket's Atlantic...In a word: love.

“Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quiestest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey.” ~Pat Conroy

That, to me, is an affair of the heart.

Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail”
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Happy Valentine's Day, ~S.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails...And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

from 1 Corinthians 13:4-13

A Farewell

2011-02-07T20:33:00.000-06:00

by Adelaide Anne Procter

FAREWELL, oh dream of mine!

I dare not stay;

The hour is come, and time

Will not delay:

Pleasant and dear to me

Wilt thou remain;

No future hour

Brings thee again.

She stands, the Future dim,

And draws me on,

And shows me dearer joys—

But thou art gone!

Treasures and Hopes more fair,

Bears she for me,

And yet I linger,

Oh dream, with thee!

Other and brighter days,

Perhaps she brings;

Deeper and holier songs,

Perchance she sings;

But thou and I, fair time,

We too must sever—

Oh dream of mine,

Farewell for ever!

Letting go is not so easy. Thanks to my friend who sent me this poem when I needed it most ~ a friend who always throws me an anchor at the perfect time. Those are the best, the very best friends of all. xoxo And so as I wish for the dreams to fade and accept the "forever" farewell, I look forward to the future...the "other and brighter days, perhaps she brings;" the "deeper and holier songs, perchance she sings..." I've managed to find some inspiration here ~ A Country Farmhouse. Simplicity. Elegance. Happiness. I love this blog. LOVE it. I am confident you will, too. I have also encountered some invigoration at Nine and Sixteen ("a blog about family, home, & small town living"). Lovely. A whole lotta sunshine for the soul.

Amy Seeley ~ Gravel Lines lyrics

what do you expect from me, after these takes … after this

what do you dream .. in the afternoon ..

i'll never know .. .what's in your head.

out past the cars on the railway

out past the city's finery

we see our breath and connection

underneath these gravel lines.

you …. you stole a page from the blanks

how do you weigh all of our fears

typical, isn't it typical

that someone like me would invite you in

we took a drive in the country

your photographs were never mine

slapped in the face by the questions

posed by these gravel lines

out past the cars on the railway

out past the city's finery

we see our breath and connection

underneath these gravel lines.

* * *

This mood. I'm running away...from it, to here...to these photos that belie a story.

No restoration necessary. Stunning.
courtesy, greige design

Typeset Art

(I'm skipping Shakespeare's verse when I create my own piece.)

via Cote de Texas

“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”

~Oscar Wilde 

Birthday Song

2011-02-04T11:49:00.003-06:00

"At the age of 19, you always think you are prepared for everything and you think you have the knowledge of what's coming ahead."
~Diana, Princess of Wales

Trust me, McKenzie, you don't.

Nineteen years ago today I first held you in my arms. I'd already held you in my heart for months. I'd felt your independence, strong and without hesitation, asserting itself in my abdomen for quite some time too. A year before, I had no idea you would be mine. I had no anticipation of motherhood for years to come. God’s blessings come as a surprise but how much you receive depends on how much your heart believes. Your dad and I were young, yet not so young that we could not, as adults, carry on as a family. The theme of your nursery was chosen strategically: Noah's Ark. True, it is a great story of biblical proportions, adored by children, but that was not the underlying purpose for the choice. Rather, the story of Noah's Ark, and the subsequent rainbow in the sky, is manifestation of God's love and promises. I believed then, as I do even today, that God is good and blesses His own. You, sweet girl, are one of my greatest gifts. Before you were born I carried you under my heart. From the moment you arrived in this world until the moment I leave it, I will always carry you in my heart. ~Mandy Harrison

You are all grown up now and slowy but surely leaving my nest. I am sad. More than anything though, I am extremely proud of the fine person you have become. You are a light. Shine brightly. I love you, McKenzie Bean. Always. Happy Birthday. ~Mommy

Before you were conceived I wanted you. Before you were born I loved you. Before you were here an hour I would die for you. This is the miracle of Mother's Love. ~Maureen Hawkins

Winter's Day

2011-02-01T16:26:00.004-06:00

It's snowing. And snowing. And blowing snow. Still snowing.

"I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself. " ~Maya Angelou

I am sitting in the warm house with kids who long ago crossed over to the 'stir crazy' mode of behavior. That's precisely why I am hiding here, downstairs: typing, reading blogs, escaping. It's nice. There is a pot roast in the crockpot (loaded with onions and garlic, just the way I like it), and after a steamy hot shower (*sigh*) I'm dressed and ready to...sit here. My girls told me I look pretty, even asked me where I was going. I suppose the fact that I've upgraded from the morning's pajamas to jeans and a shirt has had a stellar impact on the impression I'm making around here. To have your children tell you you're beautiful, regardless of the truth, is priceless.

On Children

Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them,

but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday...

Today's blizzard, make that Blizzard, has me thinking, thinking of

Dad in his heavy Eskimo-style coat, transporting neighbors who needed a ride, circa the 1970s
Mom...everything sweet about childhood reminds me of you
Amy's red hair tucked into a stocking cap, wearing mittens secured to the arms of her coat
a trip to the ER for little sis ~ sometimes snowballs are made of more than just snow
sledding on a red Radio Flyer over so many hills ~ those were the days
chili
hot chocolate
you and me, me and you

Warm Whispers

Missy Higgins

Your warm whispers.

Out of the dark they carry my heart

Your warm whispers.

Into the dawn they carry me through

And I am weeping warm honey and milk

That you stay surrounding me, surrounding me.

Your warm whispers.

Letting me drown in a pool of you

Your warm whispers.

Keeping the noise from breaking through.

And I am weeping warm honey and milk

That you stay surrounding me, surrounding me.

Yeah I am weeping warm honey and milk

That you stay surrounding me.

Your warm whispers.

Yeah I am weeping warm honey and milk

Your warm whispers.

You're gone.

Stay warm, ~S.

Sei sempre nel mio cuore.

2011-01-31T14:36:00.002-06:00

Family Weekend. St. Louis. Good food. Great company. What's not to love? In a few short days my firstborn will celebrate her 19th birthday. Nineteen. Wasn't I just that age myself? The four of us loaded into the vehicle for a Saturday road trip to see our girl. Along the way we saw this:

My friend aptly described the atmosphere. The night before, some of us sat awake and watched as Egypt began to unravel at her seams. The black-rimmed gun of the tank was a reminder that the winds of war continue to blow. Then, upon arriving at campus, we viewed this:

An authentic piece Egyptian art on papyrus, it depicts Isis, goddess of motherhood, marriage and love, leading Nefertari, chief queen and favorite wife of Ramses II. This is my daughter's gift from her boyfriend, who vacationed in Egypt this past summer. It is my hope that our strongest Arab ally will not fall apart...

As we visited her dorm room it is, not surprisingly, tidy as ever. The little ones easily made themselves "at home" there, taking over the desk, the pens and paper, even the laptop. My youngest, still in preschool, has yet to figure out why McKenzie has to go to 'tollege' or why she (still the little one) can't be left behind to hang out with McKenzie for awhile instead of returning home with her parents. The girls love their big sister, and she loves them too. Meanwhile, her dad and I sat on her small college bed while McKenzie talked to us, with us, as the adult she has become. You are beautiful inside and out, sweet girl. xoxo

The celebratory birthday lunch took place on "The Hill." There is no other place to enjoy the perfect Italian meal while in St. Louis. It is an area famous for its Italian-American heritage, where restaurants and bakeries are tucked between small residential homes of former immigrants. At Zia's, the Seafood Stuffed Mushrooms are exquisite. The Pollo Parmigiana is top notch, and the homemade bread? Just add olive oil and Parmesan. The price tag isn't bad either. Baseball fans recognize "The Hill" as the home of Yogi Berra and Joe Garagiola. Jack Buck,. Cardinals broadcaster, also lived in the area early in his career. The neighborhood has a particular American story feel to it. I'm anxious to return.

Piccola di papà

Piccola principessa

"Tutte le strade portano a Roma."

Stories to Tell

2011-01-28T16:55:00.000-06:00

As depressing as the words may seem, that's not really the message I intend to convey. Brandi Carlile's voice is enchanting ~ folksy ~ and I hope you'll take some time to hear her music. I've been enjoying it for awhile now. The lyrics to one of these songs had already found their way into today's post, but I stumbled across the words of still another and couldn't resist them either. As some of you know, I've been playing with the writing of a novel for awhile. Contained in these two songs are the names of the essential characters in the book. An interesting coincidence, yes, but the messages are hauntingly relevant to my story's plot. I am in awe, and feel propelled to spend hours writing this weekend. Enjoy.

"The Story"
~ Brandi Carlile ~

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am

But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true
I was made for you

I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you

Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
You do
I was made for you

You see the smile that's on my mouth
It's hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess

No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what
I've been through like you do
And I was made for you

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am

But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true
I was made for you

It's true
I was made for you

* * *

"Cannonball"

~ Brandi Carlile ~

I was born when I met you

Now I'm dying to forget you

And that is what I know

Though I dreamed I would fall

Like a wounded cannonball

Sinking down with my heart in tow

Bright lights like white lightning

Who shot me down

Who cut me down

I'm frozen in my bed till the day comes around

How I'm lost

How I'm found

There's a man all alone

Telling me his friends are gone

That they've died and flown away

So I told him he was wrong

That your friends are never gone

If you look to the sky and pray

Someone told me a lie

Someone looked me in the eye

And said time will ease your pain

But behold, when you fall

Its that same old cannonball

Coming back for your heart again

Bright lights like white lightning

Who shot me down

Who cut me down

I'm frozen in my bed till the day comes around

And it may come around

Till the day comes around

How I'm lost

How I'm found

I was born when I met you

Now I'm dying to forget you

And that is what I know

* * *

Your Best Life Now, by Joel Osteen.

Chapter 17: Letting Go of Emotional Wounds.

Quit dwelling on what could have been, should have been, or might have been... Take what God has given you and make the most of it. You may have suffered much, endured great hardships, or been through a lot of negative things. You may have deep scars from emotional wounds, but don't let your past determine your future. You can't do anything about what's happened to you, but you can choose how you will face what's in front of you. Don't hold on to feelings of bitterness and resentment and let them poison your future. Let go of those hurts and pains. Forgive the people who did you wrong. Forgive yourself for the mistakes you have made.

The song lyrics above are less about me and more about those whose names are hidden within, the characters whose epilogue I already know by heart. Osteen's words, however, spoke directly to my heart today. Forgive the people who did you wrong. Forgive yourself for the mistakes you have made. The words are written as a command. Sometimes, sometimes obedience is the hardest part.

A Big Day

2011-01-27T21:28:00.004-06:00

Today is a good day. I wondered...since I'd felt a moodswing stirring last night. Ridiculous. Why should today not be as fabulous as any other? Apparently it was less so for some of my students ~ our class size was reduced from 19 to 14 for the day and I have no idea why. I hope the kiddos are feeling well enough to return to school tomorrow. I missed them! For those of us present, there was a birthday celebration (Thanks for the brownies, C!) and I stumbled upon some treasures from my trip to Japan. I'd stored the items at school and apparently kept them in such a safe spot that I'd forgotten all about them! So today the students and I took another little trip, this time to East Asia. I hope someday when they climb inside the Great Daibatsu in the beautiful old region of Kamakura, they'll return to tell me of their adventures and remember the day when they first dreamed of the possibility.

Familiarities:

"Hyaku go yori isshou."
A smile is worth a thousand words.

American on the left, Japanese on the right

Possibilities:

a snow capped Mt. Fuji in the distance

The Great Daibatsu...The Great Buddha

I discovered yet another lost prize at school. (I suppose that makes this my lucky day.) I have an affinity for a particular old sweatshirt, a sweatshirt that had been missing for far too long. I purchased it on the Country Club Plaza while spending a weekend with my college roommate in Kansas City years ago. The material is frayed at the neckline and wrists, yet I wear it anyway. It is sunny yellow with letters stitched in nautical blue. I'm wearing it tonight like a warm hug. That ~ especially today ~ feels nice.

And now I think I'll return to that which is familiar. I'm heading west a bit for some comfort food.
I think I'll make it for someone I love.

Piperada Sandwich

(Basque Omelette)

8 -10 tablespoons olive oil
2 small onions, coarsely chopped
4 bell peppers, seeded and chopped (red, orange or yellow)
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 pinch cayenne
1 1/2 lbs tomatoes (peeled, seeded and chopped)
1 teaspoon oregano
1 long French bread
2 tablespoons butter
6 eggs, beaten
salt
pepper
basil (optional)

Heat 4 T olive oil in a large heavy frying pan. Add the onions and cook over a gentle heat, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes until they are softened but not colored. Add the peppers, garlic and cayenne to the pan. Cook for another 5 minutes, stirring, then add the tomatoes, seasoning and oregano. Cook over moderate heat for 15-20 minutes until peppers are soft and most of the liquid has evaporated. Preheat oven to 400. Cut the bread in half lengthwise, trim off ends and cut into six equal pieces, brush with remaining olive oil. Place bread on baking trays and bake for 8-10 minutes until crisp and just turning golden. Heat the butter in a pan until it bubbles, add eggs and cook, stirring, until softly scrambled. Turn off heat and stir in the pepper mixture. Divide evenly among the pieces of bread and sprinkle with basil, if using. Serve hot.

One kind word can warm three winter months. ~Japanese proverb I can think of more than one, but tonight, I'm letting my heart smile while my lips fall silent. ~S.

Small Town

2011-01-25T16:38:00.000-06:00

"Famous In A Small Town"

Travis Howard, Miranda Lambert

They say life is so much sweeter

Through the telephoto lens of fame

Around here you get just as much attention

Cheerin' at the high school football game

I dreamed of going to Nashville

Put my money down and placed my bet

But I just got the first buck of the season

I made the front page of the Turnertown Gazette

Every last one, route one, rural heart's got a story to tell

Every grandma, in-law, ex-girlfriend

Maybe knows it just a little too well

Whether you're late for church or you're stuck in jail

Hey, word's gonna get around

Everybody dies famous in a small town

Tyler and Casey broke up

It ended pretty quietly

And we heard he was caught red-handed with her mama

So that's just what they let us all believe

Every last one, route one, rural heart's got a story to tell

Every grandma, in-law, ex-girlfriend

Maybe knows it just a little too well

Whether you're late for church or you're stuck in jail

Hey, word's gonna get around

Everybody dies famous in a small town

Well, baby

Who needs their faces in a magazine?

Me and you

We've been stars in this town since we were seventeen

Let's go on down to the quick stop

Wear your yellow shades and I'll put on my tight jeans

and we'll just spend the weekend burnin' rubber

And we'll let 'em point and stare in disbelief

'Cause every last one, route one, rural heart's got a story to tell

Every grandma, in-law, ex-girlfriend

Maybe knows it just a little too well

Whether you're late for church or you're stuck in jail

Hey, word's gonna get around

Everybody dies famous in a small town

I've said it before: I love my town. It's a small city, with a small-er town feel. Cozy. Comfortable. Familiar. Yesterday I dined at my favorite restaurant ever. Arris' Pizza Palace is a local tradition. I remember my first visit there. My dad and mom took me and my sister for a large sausage pizza and a pitcher of Coke. That was a long time ago. A lot has changed ~ my family, the restaurant's atmosphere ~ but much remains the same. I still order that same sausage pizza (handmade Greek sausage, that is)...

...and I still enjoy the view while I indulge.

When you finally go back to your old hometown, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood. ~Sam Ewing

There's a lot to be said for small town life. I wouldn't trade it
for, say, the world.

I had rather be on my farm than be emperor of the world. ~George Washington

It was supposed to snow another 4-6 inches today. The meterologists were wrong. So few snowflakes, and they never even stuck. That means school will be in session. I'm only mildly sorry. As much as I love winter, I'm still dreaming of spring. I've decided to buy flower pots this week. I won't be planting flowers yet (too many snow angels left to make), but I'll be baking these:

Topped like this:

Or maybe I'll make one of these:

Tomato Tarte

Raspberry Tarte

I must, I must, I must quit typing while my stomach is talking to me. I am hungry! Due to some health 'issues', I've upped the calories (no regrets, the starvation plan served its purpose) and am dreaming of food. Good food. Fresh food.

The farmer has to be an optimist or he wouldn't still be a farmer. ~Will Rogers

Farmer's Market food. I cannot wait!

Dear Jaime,

2011-01-23T11:32:00.004-06:00

I'm sitting here typing this love note, but I will not finish the post until tomorrow or later. I must soon get ready for an evening out with you. Tonight you are not eleven years my junior. Tonight you are, quite simply, my friend...and I am yours, just as I have been for the past two decades. I am writing this to you, for you, because I anticipate there are words I will forget to say in your presence. I want to somehow capture the message so you can keep it with you, so that you will not forget. I have loved people that you have loved, and detested others on your behalf. I have always felt a sense of regret that I did not do more. I think you know what I mean. Just please believe what I know to be true: You are beautiful and strong, and you are worth so much more than the hand you've been dealt. Keep putting one foot in front of the other and someday, someday, you'll be far away from this place of today. I love you, Jaime. You know I do. Great things await. I have no doubt. I will always be your cheerleader. Always.

It's not who you are that holds you back, it's who you think you're not. ~Author Unknown

If you hear a voice within you say "you cannot paint," then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced. ~Vincent Van Gogh

If you really put a small value upon yourself, rest assured that the world will not raise your price. ~Author Unknown

It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.
~Edmund Hillary

Always act like you're wearing an invisible crown. ~Author Unknown

It's hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head.
~Sally Kempton, Esquire, 1970

Pay no attention to what the critics say. A statue has never been erected in honor of a critic. ~Jean Sibelius

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?" Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. ~Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles," 1992

With so much love and affection, my friend. ~S.

Peace of Mind

2011-01-21T13:44:00.005-06:00

"Life, love, and laughter - what priceless gifts to give our children." ~Phyllis Dryden

This week in class as the students and I discussed themes associated with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., a little girl asked, "Why did he die?" Bigotry. Prejudice. It breaks my heart each time I try to explain these things to six and seven year-olds. These concepts, fortunately, are foreign to them. They have not [yet] learned ~or been taught~ to hate. It is my sincerest wish that it may always remain so... A young boy in our room commented, "And there wasn't very good security in those days." Security. That's a big word for a young one. He lives in a world where even children are in tune to organized protection from society's dangers. Sad. Shortly thereafter, my phone displayed a push notification from FOX News, "Two Shot at a California High School. Gunman in Custody." Seriously, at some point we need to stand up and take accountability for breeding monsters...which brings me to my next rant. Last night, while working on a Social Studies project, my daughter said, "I just realized something. I always thought tourists were people who went around killing other people. I was actually thinking of terrorists." How unfortunate is it that my little girl is familiar with the word terrorist, yet not the word tourist? I have failed her by not giving her adequate doses of positivity. As a mom, my heart is frowning. Even so, these words from Helen Keller bring a bit of comfort. Who, really, is better able to comment on a sense of security? “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.”

* * *

“Sunshine cannot bleach the snow, Nor time unmake what poets know.”
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Morning Sun

There is little that brings me peace like the silence of snowfall. We've had a lot of that around here lately ~ snowfall, that is. Thanks to an appointment at the doctor's office today, I will not be going to work. After taking my little one to preschool, I circled the Capitol. It was a scant 6 degrees outside and I had no coat with me (of course), but I couldn't help but get out of my heated car and walk around a bit. Beautiful.

And as I stood high above the Missouri River looking at the bridge in the far distance, it began to snow. When I left this vantage point, the falling snow was also left behind. How interesting, to stand along the edge of the river and be snowed upon, when just a few feet away, no flakes fell. Magical.

* * *

And finally, there's a new song on my iPod. I've included lyric excerpts of Pink's latest hit, "F----- Perfect" (the clean version, because the profanity isn't the point). I like her grit, though. She's a tough girl. Like me. Most of the time. ~S.

Made a wrong turn, once or twice

Dug my way out, blood and fire

Bad decisions, that's alright

Welcome to my silly life

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood

Miss 'No way, it's all good', it didn't slow me down

Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated

Look, I'm still around

Pretty pretty please, don't you ever ever feel

Like you're less than perfect

Pretty pretty please, if you ever ever feel like you're nothing

You're perfect to me!

You're so mean, when you talk about yourself, you were wrong

Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead

So complicated, look happy, you'll make it!

Filled with so much hatred...such a tired game

It's enough! I've done all I can think of

Chased down all my demons, I've seen you do the same

Oh, pretty pretty please, don't you ever ever feel

Like you're less than perfect

Pretty pretty please, if you ever ever feel like you're nothing

You're perfect to me