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October 03 Beautifully SaidFreedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn’t pass it on to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children what it was once like in the United States when men were free.
--Ronald Wilson Reagan June 06 Hmm...I miss my microwave. Sigh. It died. Now meat must be thawed in the fridge by taking it out of the freezer--in advance--and coffee must be reheated by placing it in a pan on the stove's burner. Inconveniences now, these actions were once part of my everyday life. May 24 Make Lemonade?What do you do when life gives you lemons but you have no sweetener? Tea is good, either way, but unsweetened lemonade? May 03 Sigh...Eventually a person must stop living life as if he or she is a pincushion. Either the pincushion will fill up and have no further space for pins, or it will wear out and the pins will no longer stick. No matter which scenario occurs, the pincushion is hindered in doing its job. April 23 Forgetting the SonOur yard is covered in clover. As I walked the dog, I had this urge to just sit down and begin to search--to get lost in the greeness as I watched for four, rather than three, leaves. My father, it seemed, could almost always find a four-leaf clover. He would sometimes simply scan the ground, then swoop down and pass one over to me. The clover today brought a smile to my face. It reminded me of a time when I could be carefree because my parents were taking care of things. When I walked by a driveway, another smile blossomed. The drawings in chalk reminded me of how my son and I would sometimes do the same. I remembered his drawings in my children's book, If You Were The Child. And my day brightened some. The imaginary clouds that I had conjured to surround me because of the cares of this world began to float away. The cares are still there; they always will be. But now the sun can get through to shine on the blessings we so easily set aside and often forget. March 30 While I Contemplate...I was thinking. Actually, I do quite a bit of thinking. Surprise!
Anyway, why is it that many of the things we buy to simplify our lives actually lend to complicating them, instead? For example: most people, today, have a microwave. Since this potentially offers a way to create faster meals, shouldn't it also offer a longer downtime that can be spent with family, or in leisure, or a combination of both? Yet does it not, in actuality, cause us to cram more into our daily schedules and result in us spending less downtime and possibly even eating on the run?
It's just a thought. But it's surprising how much space such little thoughts can take up when they accumulate. March 20 Married to My Husband, Not a House... My friend, SB, wrote an email in response to a comment I had made about disliking the word housewife. I mentioned how I prefer to call myself a domestic engineer. She answered: I have never liked the term "housewife." You are married to your husband, not the house. I found this observation to be quite insightful and upbeat. I have chosen to be a homemaker, a domestic engineer. I face endless hours of repetitive tasks. Just when I put away the last clean dish, new dishes pile into the sink. I fold or hang clothes, returning them to their places, only to view new piles building within the bins. I pay bills that I know I must pay again, and write letters whenever there's a dispute that must be addressed. Because life moves forward, the menial tasks never end. It can, at times, result in a feeling of hopelessness. When such unending responsibilities seem to go unnoticed or unappreciated, it can lead to a woman believing that she lives in a world of disregard and disrespect. And this often breeds anger or resentment: why should we thank those who load the dishwasher once or twice a month or who throw in a load of laundry because a pair of favorite jeans is dirty? Does anyone ever thank us? Anyhow, although housewife seems to find its origin* in the Middle English sense of a woman being the mistress of a household (not the "kept woman of a married man" that we tend to understand mistress to mean today, but instead "a woman who employs others or has authority over servants"), it occurs to me that my friend's take on the word makes more sense in the world of today. I am a domestic engineer and I am married to my husband, not a house. And I choose this life willingly, despite the sacrifices it often entails. For I have no greater joy than this, to hear of my children (or in my case, my child) walking in the truth (3 John 1:4, NASB). * from http://www.etymonline.com February 26 Marvelous Meals I have one, amazing kid. Yesterday afternoon we were making omelettes (for brunch) and he suggested filling them with the leftover bruschetta topping--delicious! Later I made fajitas for dinner. What a great food day we had. And tonight? He made our final meal because I looked tired. We had spaghetti. Yum. January 30 HumanityAs I searched my mind for writing ideas, I found myself awaking long lost memories. One such memory surprised me. I remembered something positive about my father's mother. You see, my grandmother was an unhappy person. At times I found myself believing that she resented my grandfather. At others she seemed embittered with the entire world. I had difficulty understanding why she would refuse to share recipes to foods or desserts that I enjoyed. Maybe she had been forced to adhere to these recipes solely due to finances, but did this matter if they were a success? She had lived a hard life, and it seemed she wanted everyone to share in her sorrow. She seemed to have lost the ability to find and feel joy. But I remember a day when she softened toward me and we shared a smile. She had long hair, far past her waist. I had quietly watched as she brushed it out and then began to pin it up into a tight bun. I asked her why she didn't ever wear her hair in a ponytail. She coldly replied that it was a poor man's style and briskly rose to begin her day. I recall pondering her answer, not completely understanding what she meant. I felt sad and alone the rest of the day and had wanted my parents to come and take me home a day early. I thought about how each of us girls had worn ponytails at some time or other and wondered if the comment had been an insult to my mom. When it was time, I went to bed and prayed my parents would arrive early to collect me on the following day. As we sat at the table the next morning, my grandmother again fixed her hair. We both sat silently, and the tension was thick. She looked over my way and then began putting away her brush and pins. Leaving her hair hanging down, she clasped it together, using a piece of her own hair as the tie, into a ponytail. When she set breakfast before me, she smiled. We had shared a moment of understanding that quickly slipped away as she was called to other tasks. It was a moment I hadn't remembered... until now. And I am reminded of how frail is our humanity. January 22 Cheerful MemoriesWhen I was a child, there was a river behind our house. My siblings and I would venture there often. We would collect rocks, dig for treasures in the bank, sunbathe, and swim. Sometimes my oldest sister and I would sit on the rock in the river's center and write. Today I am remembering the flowers. Wild flowers reigned during the spring. We had Queen Anne's Lace, Cowslips, Brown-Eyed Susan, White and Red Clover, Goldenrod, Dandelions, Buttercups, Snap Dragons, Devil's Paintbrush, Trillium, as well as many others. We also had flowers that our parents or previous homeowners had planted: Lilacs, Miniature Roses, Poppies, Grape Hyacinths, Lilies of the Valley, Morning Glories, and Giant Sunflowers. And the Giant Sunflowers reached out to me. Previously I had admired the color purple. But then Donny and Marie Osmond arrived along with Prince's Purple Rain and soon all the girls in school were changing their favorite colors to the color purple. My affection for the color decidedly waned. As I walked about outside that day, the color yellow became my new inspiration. It was bright and warm--sunny. It encouraged a lightness in spirit. I stared at the group of Giant Sunflowers and drew in feelings of hope and determination. And yellow, with all its various shades, hues, and tints, remains my favorite color to this day. |
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