For many people January 1 is the day designated to start over. They make New Year's resolutions, wipe the slate clean, and try to improve themselves in some way.
Though many people buy into the January / New Year thing. I do not. My New Year begins the first day of my summer vacation from school. When I finish packing up my classroom and lock that door behind me, it is New Year's Eve.
My "New Year's Resolutions" are not usually written but simply noted in my mind and are in the form of plans. I have plans to clean out boxes and closets and maybe even that monster garage. The carpet needs cleaning and I plan to get a new vaccum to help with the job. My home decorating talents are lacking. So, with the help of HGTV, some decorating magazines and perhaps some buried creative juices, I can improve the decor of this house.
My list of books to read are taking on a different genre this summer. I've decided to check out an author name Harlen Coben and read a mystery novel. Then I'd like to try "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" because I saw that the next epic tale to come out at the movies will be "Narnia". As a child, reading was difficult for me. It was hard and I didn't like it. Now I realize that I just wasn't reading the right books for me. Unfortunately, I missed a lot of classics because of my reading problems. So, I want to use some of my summer vacation to read.
I really like June as a new start better than January. I have a couple of months to work on my "resolutions" without the distraction of school work. No deadlines or reports to turn in. Nothing that will cause a major upset if I don't have it done "on time".
Hopefully, I will be able to keep my summer "resolutions" better than the ones made in January. I'll keep you posted.
May 31, 2005
May 30, 2005
Serving the Lord
The following four sentences came from the little book, "On Being a Servant of God", by Warren W. Wiersbe. I want to share what this author has to say about serving the Lord.
"1. Never take down a fence until you know why it was put up.
2. If you get too far ahead of the army, your soldiers may mistake you for the enemy.
3. Don't complain about the bottom rungs of the ladder; they helped to get you higher.
4. If you want to enjoy the rainbow, be prepared to endure the storm."
He wrote his own list after reading another list from American historian Charles A. Beard's summarization of the lessons of history. He says that he sums it up in four sentences:
"1. Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad with power; 2. The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small; 3. the bee fertilizes the flower it robs; 4. When it is dark enough, you can see the stars."
"1. Never take down a fence until you know why it was put up.
2. If you get too far ahead of the army, your soldiers may mistake you for the enemy.
3. Don't complain about the bottom rungs of the ladder; they helped to get you higher.
4. If you want to enjoy the rainbow, be prepared to endure the storm."
He wrote his own list after reading another list from American historian Charles A. Beard's summarization of the lessons of history. He says that he sums it up in four sentences:
"1. Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad with power; 2. The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small; 3. the bee fertilizes the flower it robs; 4. When it is dark enough, you can see the stars."
A Lesson in Semantics
"My Sunday school teacher brought a new idea about worship to me today. Like I started this blog with what I considered to be synonyms, Sunday and Church; he said that Worship and Service were synonyms. That was a new concept for me." (From my blog on Sunday, May 22, 2005.)
The reason I was perplexed with the idea of worship and service being synonyms was because I thought of service as part of the larger whole I saw as worship. After some consideration and reading I see my view was very narrow. I hope this rather long blog isn't too preachy, but I couldn't make it shorter.
My friend, Chad, left a powerful scripture reading for me to consider. In Isaiah 58:3-14, we read about a nation that seems to do what is right and not forsake the commands of God. But God is telling them that all of their fasting is ending in quarreling and strife. He asks them how can they expect their voices to be heard? God tells them to share food with the hungry, provide shelter for the poor, and clothe the naked and to not turn away from their own flesh and blood.
That is certainly service to God isn't it? If God is the one telling them what they (we) are supposed to do then it must be God's will.
Romans 12:1 "…I urge you, brothers in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God--this is your spiritual act of worship."
Deb, another friend of mine, thinks of sacrifice when she thinks of service. Certainly Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice in his act of worship to the will of God.
"My food," said Jesus, "is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work." (John 4:34)
In John 6:47 Jesus says, "I tell you the truth, he who believes has everlasting life. I am the bread of life." Bread is fuel for my body. If someone gives me fuel, I will be grateful. I will thank him all the more if I am starving. My thankful appreciation to the Provider is my worship. In the Isaiah scripture we are told to feed the hungry…my service…Jesus feeds me…His service. To imitate someone is to revere them. I revere and worship my Lord who is my example. John 13: 15 Jesus says to his disciples, "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you."
I confess that my service, which is my worship, is lacking. I have often identified with the man in Mark that wanted to know what he had to do to inherit eternal life. Jesus, in his ever-patient manner, first assured the young man that no one was good except God alone. (Mark 10:18) Then the next verse tells us that Jesus looked at him and loved him. (vs. 21) I like to believe that Jesus will look at me that way…with love. Then when the man heard what Jesus wanted him to do…sell all he had, give to the poor and to follow Him…the man went away sad because he had great wealth. I really like the next part of that story that gives me hope. Jesus watched the "Rich Young Man," as my Bible called him, walk away and he said, "How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!" (vs. 23) You may be asking how I get hope out of that? I have to notice that Jesus didn't say it was impossible, just hard.
My service to God is hard. I have great wealth on so many levels. It's hard to give up my time, my vices, and my energy just to do something "good". But I have to because it is the will of God that I do. I'd like to think that the even though it might have taken the rich young man years to come around, that he eventually sold his things, gave to the poor and then went around telling people about the Jesus that looked at him with love.
Worship and service…yes they are synonyms. I serve God because he is worthy. I worship Him because He is worthy. Philippians 2:13 says, "…for it is God who works in you (me) to will and to act according to his good purpose."
The reason I was perplexed with the idea of worship and service being synonyms was because I thought of service as part of the larger whole I saw as worship. After some consideration and reading I see my view was very narrow. I hope this rather long blog isn't too preachy, but I couldn't make it shorter.
My friend, Chad, left a powerful scripture reading for me to consider. In Isaiah 58:3-14, we read about a nation that seems to do what is right and not forsake the commands of God. But God is telling them that all of their fasting is ending in quarreling and strife. He asks them how can they expect their voices to be heard? God tells them to share food with the hungry, provide shelter for the poor, and clothe the naked and to not turn away from their own flesh and blood.
That is certainly service to God isn't it? If God is the one telling them what they (we) are supposed to do then it must be God's will.
Romans 12:1 "…I urge you, brothers in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God--this is your spiritual act of worship."
Deb, another friend of mine, thinks of sacrifice when she thinks of service. Certainly Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice in his act of worship to the will of God.
"My food," said Jesus, "is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work." (John 4:34)
In John 6:47 Jesus says, "I tell you the truth, he who believes has everlasting life. I am the bread of life." Bread is fuel for my body. If someone gives me fuel, I will be grateful. I will thank him all the more if I am starving. My thankful appreciation to the Provider is my worship. In the Isaiah scripture we are told to feed the hungry…my service…Jesus feeds me…His service. To imitate someone is to revere them. I revere and worship my Lord who is my example. John 13: 15 Jesus says to his disciples, "I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you."
I confess that my service, which is my worship, is lacking. I have often identified with the man in Mark that wanted to know what he had to do to inherit eternal life. Jesus, in his ever-patient manner, first assured the young man that no one was good except God alone. (Mark 10:18) Then the next verse tells us that Jesus looked at him and loved him. (vs. 21) I like to believe that Jesus will look at me that way…with love. Then when the man heard what Jesus wanted him to do…sell all he had, give to the poor and to follow Him…the man went away sad because he had great wealth. I really like the next part of that story that gives me hope. Jesus watched the "Rich Young Man," as my Bible called him, walk away and he said, "How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!" (vs. 23) You may be asking how I get hope out of that? I have to notice that Jesus didn't say it was impossible, just hard.
My service to God is hard. I have great wealth on so many levels. It's hard to give up my time, my vices, and my energy just to do something "good". But I have to because it is the will of God that I do. I'd like to think that the even though it might have taken the rich young man years to come around, that he eventually sold his things, gave to the poor and then went around telling people about the Jesus that looked at him with love.
Worship and service…yes they are synonyms. I serve God because he is worthy. I worship Him because He is worthy. Philippians 2:13 says, "…for it is God who works in you (me) to will and to act according to his good purpose."
May 28, 2005
The First Day of the Rest of My Summer
It is 9:30 on Saturday after my last day of teaching school for this year.
I'm still in my pajamas.
I pulled back the shades to let daylight into this house.
My cat is sitting in the window looking out at the world.
I hear birds outside sweetly singing. (probably because my cat is behind glass)
The best part is I don't have work from school looming in my bookbag ruining my day.
Life is good!
I love summer vacation. But this year I love it more than most. I'm not sure why, but I was particularly looking forward to this time away from school. The older I get and the longer I teach (I have 25 years service with this district and two with others...yeah, I'm old.) the more I really need these summers.
However I think the big reason I've been looking forward to this summer is because there is no major move to be made. Three summers ago I packed up my classroom I'd taught in for 13 or so years because the whole school was moving to another building. I must have packed 200 boxes of mine and the schools things for that move. You should have seen the pile I left for trash. That school building has since been demolished. That was the same summer that my oldest son graduated with his master's degree from ACU...the weekend just before the movers were to take my school boxes to the new building. (which wasn't new at all & another story) I started work the Monday just following that weekend. Oh and my son and his wife were packing and cleaning out their apartment in Abilene to move to Michigan. So while we were there for graduation, we helped them finish that task and we watched them drive away on that long journey.
The next summer, my husband and I moved from our house in Pinehurst where we'd lived 23 years and raised our three boys. We also moved my middle son and his wife to Baytown. In fact those poor people were moved three times in two months. Yet another story. So I packed box after box after box and thought it would never end. The week just before we moved to the new house, Kim had to be in New York for a week. So guess who packed and packed and packed? But the good thing about that move was about three days after we got into this house, we turned around and left for a Florida vacation. Well I don't know now how good it was because we left a lot of work here. The good part was that we got away with our son and his wife and had a lot of fun seeing Disney World. It was all the work when we returned that was tough.
Then last summer I packed more boxes and moved to another school building. I couldn't stand the "new" school building of my old job. So I repacked my teaching things (some had never been unpacked from the first move) and in about two moves with our van, drove them over to the new building (which really is new). I loaded my van by myself and unloaded and carted all of those boxes at the new building by myself. I've enjoyed my new school building very much since it is only 3 blocks from my new (to me) house.
So I'm happy about NOT moving or packing boxes this summer. Well that is not entirely true. It is our second summer in this house and I still have a garage full of boxes that need to be unpacked or moved or trashed. I'm leaning toward the latter. I'm going to take my time with it though because I know that I will have to do it all by myself. I don't care though because I'll do it my way and no one will complain. No one else wants the job.
So I'm keeping plenty of Bud Lite in the fridge to cool down with and I'm making that garage my summer project. The best part is I don't have to move in or out of any place this summer. It is my ambition to be a bum every day or so and do nothing. So if you're planning on a visit...come on...we'll go out to eat and may even take you to play on the beach. Just don't ask me to pack or move you anywhere. I'm done!
I'm still in my pajamas.
I pulled back the shades to let daylight into this house.
My cat is sitting in the window looking out at the world.
I hear birds outside sweetly singing. (probably because my cat is behind glass)
The best part is I don't have work from school looming in my bookbag ruining my day.
Life is good!
I love summer vacation. But this year I love it more than most. I'm not sure why, but I was particularly looking forward to this time away from school. The older I get and the longer I teach (I have 25 years service with this district and two with others...yeah, I'm old.) the more I really need these summers.
However I think the big reason I've been looking forward to this summer is because there is no major move to be made. Three summers ago I packed up my classroom I'd taught in for 13 or so years because the whole school was moving to another building. I must have packed 200 boxes of mine and the schools things for that move. You should have seen the pile I left for trash. That school building has since been demolished. That was the same summer that my oldest son graduated with his master's degree from ACU...the weekend just before the movers were to take my school boxes to the new building. (which wasn't new at all & another story) I started work the Monday just following that weekend. Oh and my son and his wife were packing and cleaning out their apartment in Abilene to move to Michigan. So while we were there for graduation, we helped them finish that task and we watched them drive away on that long journey.
The next summer, my husband and I moved from our house in Pinehurst where we'd lived 23 years and raised our three boys. We also moved my middle son and his wife to Baytown. In fact those poor people were moved three times in two months. Yet another story. So I packed box after box after box and thought it would never end. The week just before we moved to the new house, Kim had to be in New York for a week. So guess who packed and packed and packed? But the good thing about that move was about three days after we got into this house, we turned around and left for a Florida vacation. Well I don't know now how good it was because we left a lot of work here. The good part was that we got away with our son and his wife and had a lot of fun seeing Disney World. It was all the work when we returned that was tough.
Then last summer I packed more boxes and moved to another school building. I couldn't stand the "new" school building of my old job. So I repacked my teaching things (some had never been unpacked from the first move) and in about two moves with our van, drove them over to the new building (which really is new). I loaded my van by myself and unloaded and carted all of those boxes at the new building by myself. I've enjoyed my new school building very much since it is only 3 blocks from my new (to me) house.
So I'm happy about NOT moving or packing boxes this summer. Well that is not entirely true. It is our second summer in this house and I still have a garage full of boxes that need to be unpacked or moved or trashed. I'm leaning toward the latter. I'm going to take my time with it though because I know that I will have to do it all by myself. I don't care though because I'll do it my way and no one will complain. No one else wants the job.
So I'm keeping plenty of Bud Lite in the fridge to cool down with and I'm making that garage my summer project. The best part is I don't have to move in or out of any place this summer. It is my ambition to be a bum every day or so and do nothing. So if you're planning on a visit...come on...we'll go out to eat and may even take you to play on the beach. Just don't ask me to pack or move you anywhere. I'm done!
May 22, 2005
If It's Sunday, It's Church
For me the words Sunday and Church are synonyms. I've gone to church all of my life. Every Sunday if we were not sick, and I mean sick with a contagious disease, my family went to church. So it should be of no surprise that since today was Sunday, I attended services with my church.
There seemed to be a theme about the lessons I was hearing today. They all seemed to have something to do with worship. Not so much how one worships, but what is it? The common thought about worship has been what the people do when assembling in the church building. However, I've noticed over the past ten or so years, that worship is no longer considered to be something reserved for a corporate service. (There's another new buzz word, "corporate".)
As I listened to people talk about our songs, praise, reading of scriptures, communion and prayer, what kept coming to my mind was my conversations with God. To worship God is to consider Him that is able to do all and know all. In a small group service this evening, someone said that God was open 24 hours a day. That's true too. I can talk to my God anytime I want to. The time is always good. Those conversation times are my worship with God and I find them to be very intimate meetings with my creator.
I have worshiped God lately when my new granddaughter was born healthy and her mother came through her delivery with no problems. I also worshiped God when he allowed me to witness my youngest son marry a beautiful Christian woman. I also worship God with thanksgiving in my heart that all three of my sons have married lovely Christian women. That is a prayer I prayed back when they were just little boys. I prayed that God would send them Christian wives. He is a God of kept promises. I believe that to be worthy of my worship.
My Sunday school teacher brought a new idea about worship to me today. Like I started this blog with what I considered to be synonyms, Sunday and Church; he said that worship and service were synonyms. That was a new concept for me.
I'm going to think on that idea for while before I blog on it. The idea that my service for God and my worship to God are synonymous is something I need to research. So I'll save my comments on that for next blog.
There seemed to be a theme about the lessons I was hearing today. They all seemed to have something to do with worship. Not so much how one worships, but what is it? The common thought about worship has been what the people do when assembling in the church building. However, I've noticed over the past ten or so years, that worship is no longer considered to be something reserved for a corporate service. (There's another new buzz word, "corporate".)
As I listened to people talk about our songs, praise, reading of scriptures, communion and prayer, what kept coming to my mind was my conversations with God. To worship God is to consider Him that is able to do all and know all. In a small group service this evening, someone said that God was open 24 hours a day. That's true too. I can talk to my God anytime I want to. The time is always good. Those conversation times are my worship with God and I find them to be very intimate meetings with my creator.
I have worshiped God lately when my new granddaughter was born healthy and her mother came through her delivery with no problems. I also worshiped God when he allowed me to witness my youngest son marry a beautiful Christian woman. I also worship God with thanksgiving in my heart that all three of my sons have married lovely Christian women. That is a prayer I prayed back when they were just little boys. I prayed that God would send them Christian wives. He is a God of kept promises. I believe that to be worthy of my worship.
My Sunday school teacher brought a new idea about worship to me today. Like I started this blog with what I considered to be synonyms, Sunday and Church; he said that worship and service were synonyms. That was a new concept for me.
I'm going to think on that idea for while before I blog on it. The idea that my service for God and my worship to God are synonymous is something I need to research. So I'll save my comments on that for next blog.
May 21, 2005
It's Just a Phase
When my children were small and they would throw fits of one kind or another, grandparents and knowing friends would say, "Don't worry. It's just a phase they are going through." They could tell me that with confidence because they had observed and lived the phases of this life.
With each phase I notice that my closest friends are going through the same life changes as me.
At the same time my friend, Nancy and I were going through our birthing phase, several of my girlfriends from my college years were going through the same phase. I have been able to catch up with their lives through email for the last three or four years. What I have discovered is that we have all been going through the same phases all of our lives. Even though a few of those women have passed through the stages at a different time, they eventually go through the phases just the same.
Lately, it seems several of my friend's children are graduating from college and getting married. This stage of watching our children move from dormitory roommates to living with their mate for life, has now begun yet another new phase of life for us...grand-parenthood. My close circle of friends that I email, along with friends I now live near, have about 8 new grandchildren born over the past 3 years.
With each new generation come new social fads, new words in language, new inventions. But the phases of life will remain the same for most of us. We live through all of them watching the generation just ahead of us. I am just now seeing my life repeating that of my parents. They watched me go to college, get married, have children and I watched them retire from jobs. I've now watched my sons go to college, get married and begin to have children. In the near future, they will watch as my husband and I retire.
Unfortunately, my parents' phase in this life ended too soon to even watch their grandchildren graduate from high school. So, it is my hope that I will be in attendance at the graduation of our grandson, Aidan and his little sister, Regan and any other little Martins that come into this life. In thirty years, I will be 82 years old and hopfully still here watching and experiencing all the phases of life yet to come. I don't want to miss a thing. Although, if I recall, my parents didn't make it that far.
In the present phase of my life, I can be the knowing person that encourages the younger generation. I can with confidence tell them "It's just phase." Like all phases, they will run their course and evolve into the next phase of life.
Where are you in this life? Wherever it is, whatever trials you are experiencing, remember..."It's just a phase." It will pass.
With each phase I notice that my closest friends are going through the same life changes as me.
At the same time my friend, Nancy and I were going through our birthing phase, several of my girlfriends from my college years were going through the same phase. I have been able to catch up with their lives through email for the last three or four years. What I have discovered is that we have all been going through the same phases all of our lives. Even though a few of those women have passed through the stages at a different time, they eventually go through the phases just the same.
Lately, it seems several of my friend's children are graduating from college and getting married. This stage of watching our children move from dormitory roommates to living with their mate for life, has now begun yet another new phase of life for us...grand-parenthood. My close circle of friends that I email, along with friends I now live near, have about 8 new grandchildren born over the past 3 years.
With each new generation come new social fads, new words in language, new inventions. But the phases of life will remain the same for most of us. We live through all of them watching the generation just ahead of us. I am just now seeing my life repeating that of my parents. They watched me go to college, get married, have children and I watched them retire from jobs. I've now watched my sons go to college, get married and begin to have children. In the near future, they will watch as my husband and I retire.
Unfortunately, my parents' phase in this life ended too soon to even watch their grandchildren graduate from high school. So, it is my hope that I will be in attendance at the graduation of our grandson, Aidan and his little sister, Regan and any other little Martins that come into this life. In thirty years, I will be 82 years old and hopfully still here watching and experiencing all the phases of life yet to come. I don't want to miss a thing. Although, if I recall, my parents didn't make it that far.
In the present phase of my life, I can be the knowing person that encourages the younger generation. I can with confidence tell them "It's just phase." Like all phases, they will run their course and evolve into the next phase of life.
Where are you in this life? Wherever it is, whatever trials you are experiencing, remember..."It's just a phase." It will pass.
May 18, 2005
Checklist
Last December our youngest son, Ryan, graduated from college. He was the third and last of our sons to earn his degree. Yea! Then in April our little granddaughter, Regan, was born in Michigan. Then, just this last Saturday, our youngest son, Ryan, was married. And TODAY is the 26th birthday of our middle son, Kyle. I hate to admit this, but it wasn't until yesterday that I realized that his birthday was here. Sorry, Kyle, I do have a present for you though.
All of the above doesn't even take into account the activities that my husband, Kim is involved in. He is directing a teen production of the musical, "Honk!". I don't really know the synopisis, something about ducks, I think. Anyway, this teen show goes up tomorrow night for the public. They'll perform two more times before taking it "on the road" so to speak. In June Kim will take all of the teens to a conference for non-profit theater organizations. There will be about 200 teens from non-profit theaters all over Texas gathering to watch their peers perform and attend workshops to better their craft. Needless to say, I'm not seeing much of my husband lately. I do observe his sleeping body beside me in bed though.
As for me, I'm just trying to get this school year over. After having my textbooks taken from my classroom and banished to the bookroom yesterday, I'm on my own as to lesson plans. That's okay because as a veteran teacher, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve. Yeah, right! Besides pulling lessons out of a hat for my students next week, I am suppose to finish referrals on special needs students, find lost library books, give a social studies test...oh, did I mention that we have no textbooks anymore...and finish grading and posting all of my grades by Friday morning. Its a lot of busy work. I can do it all blindfolded but I'd rather not.
I'm tired and ready to rest. Margaritas on the beach are sounding so good right now.
All of the above doesn't even take into account the activities that my husband, Kim is involved in. He is directing a teen production of the musical, "Honk!". I don't really know the synopisis, something about ducks, I think. Anyway, this teen show goes up tomorrow night for the public. They'll perform two more times before taking it "on the road" so to speak. In June Kim will take all of the teens to a conference for non-profit theater organizations. There will be about 200 teens from non-profit theaters all over Texas gathering to watch their peers perform and attend workshops to better their craft. Needless to say, I'm not seeing much of my husband lately. I do observe his sleeping body beside me in bed though.
As for me, I'm just trying to get this school year over. After having my textbooks taken from my classroom and banished to the bookroom yesterday, I'm on my own as to lesson plans. That's okay because as a veteran teacher, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve. Yeah, right! Besides pulling lessons out of a hat for my students next week, I am suppose to finish referrals on special needs students, find lost library books, give a social studies test...oh, did I mention that we have no textbooks anymore...and finish grading and posting all of my grades by Friday morning. Its a lot of busy work. I can do it all blindfolded but I'd rather not.
I'm tired and ready to rest. Margaritas on the beach are sounding so good right now.
May 17, 2005
Spring and Summer is in the Air
I'm a school teacher and when spring comes, my thoughts turn to summer vacation. This spring has been busier than most and I'm ready to relax a little. My students had to take the state test in February and the ones that didn't pass had to take it again in April. In between February and April, I was out of my classroom for 2 1/2 hours a day to tutor those kids that didn't pass. Double lesson plans...one for me and one for the substitute teacher in my class every afternoon for 2 1/2 hours a day. But that's another story.
Anyway, my oldest son and his wife gave birth to a darling little baby girl in April. I scheduled a flight to Michigan and got to see my newborn granddaughter. I was happy to go and play with my 2 year old grandson too. Then the next two weekends I attended wedding showers for my youngest son who just got married last Saturday night. My Michigan son and family stayed with us before and after the wedding. I was so glad we had a larger house and everyone could have room to spread out a little. I even got to babysit with my grandkids the last evening they were with us. I really enjoyed it.
Now those events have passed and I'm counting days until school is out for the summer vacation. I have a list of things I'd like to do around this house. You know...spring cleaning sort of things. But most of all I'd like to clean out that garage with all those boxes we moved here from the old house two years ago. Yeah, I know, "if I haven't used it in two years, I should throw it out." My problem with that thinking is that I probably just forgot about the neat stuff I have and if I threw it out, I'd miss it.
Well, I'm gearing down and I hope that my days to relax will get here soon. I'm a big fan of spring and an even bigger fan of summer vacation. Six and a half more days of school...just in case you're counting.
Anyway, my oldest son and his wife gave birth to a darling little baby girl in April. I scheduled a flight to Michigan and got to see my newborn granddaughter. I was happy to go and play with my 2 year old grandson too. Then the next two weekends I attended wedding showers for my youngest son who just got married last Saturday night. My Michigan son and family stayed with us before and after the wedding. I was so glad we had a larger house and everyone could have room to spread out a little. I even got to babysit with my grandkids the last evening they were with us. I really enjoyed it.
Now those events have passed and I'm counting days until school is out for the summer vacation. I have a list of things I'd like to do around this house. You know...spring cleaning sort of things. But most of all I'd like to clean out that garage with all those boxes we moved here from the old house two years ago. Yeah, I know, "if I haven't used it in two years, I should throw it out." My problem with that thinking is that I probably just forgot about the neat stuff I have and if I threw it out, I'd miss it.
Well, I'm gearing down and I hope that my days to relax will get here soon. I'm a big fan of spring and an even bigger fan of summer vacation. Six and a half more days of school...just in case you're counting.
May 11, 2005
Babies, Babies...
Babies are a reminder that everything else you may think you have to do can wait. I'm enjoying my two grandchildren who are visiting from Michigan. I am reminded of what a 24/7 job babies are.
Aidan who is 2 years old is a ball of energy. He likes to play ball and will quickly become close buddies with anyone that can last through a toddler size game of tee ball. One of these days I'm sure I expect to attend some Little League baseball games with Aidan as the star player. Regan, who is a month and some weeks old, enjoys lying on a bed and watching intently as you talk to her. As far as one month old babies go, she is very calm until she needs to be fed or have her diaper changed. Then she lets her demands known in a very vocal way. Maybe one day she can be the star soprano or alto for the Metropolitan Opera.
When Aidan decides we need to go see something in another room, he will take my finger and say "come here Mama Lou". Of course, I go without any hesitation. While walking around the backyard, he noticed one of the round stepping stones had a crack to which he bent down and touched it saying, "cookie broken."
Around 7:00 or so dinner has been eaten and the parents and babies are gearing up (or down) for baths and bedtime. I don't ever remember bedtime with my three sons going as smoothly as what I witness when these kids are going down for the night. My son, Jason and his wife, Kari, have a routine for Aidan and it seems to work most of the time: dinner, bath, books, "goodnight". Of course Daddy Jason has to sit for while until Aidan is mostly asleep, but it really doesn't take very long.
I am totally amazed by my grandchildren and their parents. Aidan is pure joy, Regan is sweetness through and through. Watching my son and his wife as they take on the challenges of parenting is a reward in itself. Its all about the kids and aren't we glad?
I don't really have a good ending to this blog, so I'll just leave you with my smile. :-)
Aidan who is 2 years old is a ball of energy. He likes to play ball and will quickly become close buddies with anyone that can last through a toddler size game of tee ball. One of these days I'm sure I expect to attend some Little League baseball games with Aidan as the star player. Regan, who is a month and some weeks old, enjoys lying on a bed and watching intently as you talk to her. As far as one month old babies go, she is very calm until she needs to be fed or have her diaper changed. Then she lets her demands known in a very vocal way. Maybe one day she can be the star soprano or alto for the Metropolitan Opera.
When Aidan decides we need to go see something in another room, he will take my finger and say "come here Mama Lou". Of course, I go without any hesitation. While walking around the backyard, he noticed one of the round stepping stones had a crack to which he bent down and touched it saying, "cookie broken."
Around 7:00 or so dinner has been eaten and the parents and babies are gearing up (or down) for baths and bedtime. I don't ever remember bedtime with my three sons going as smoothly as what I witness when these kids are going down for the night. My son, Jason and his wife, Kari, have a routine for Aidan and it seems to work most of the time: dinner, bath, books, "goodnight". Of course Daddy Jason has to sit for while until Aidan is mostly asleep, but it really doesn't take very long.
I am totally amazed by my grandchildren and their parents. Aidan is pure joy, Regan is sweetness through and through. Watching my son and his wife as they take on the challenges of parenting is a reward in itself. Its all about the kids and aren't we glad?
I don't really have a good ending to this blog, so I'll just leave you with my smile. :-)
May 6, 2005
Last One Out of the Nest
Of course, all three of our sons have been out of the actual nest since they each went off to college. I've had time to get used to the idea of grown children. So, I really think I'm over the "empty nest syndrome." In fact with grandchildren starting to come from the oldest married son and his wife, its been a joyful blessing. However, something rushed over me this morning as I suddently visualized my older two sons standing with their younger brother on the threshold of matrimony.
Throughout Ryan's engagement, short as it was, I've adopted the attitude of "good, finally, check it off the list of things to do". I was not going to be sad or emotional about this last marriage of my sons because I was feeling a since of retirement in the act. In fact I just adore Amy as much as my other two daughter in laws, Kari and Amanda. Each young woman is as unique in personality and talent as my sons are. To me, they have truly found their "soul-mates".
So why this sadness and welling up of tears? I'm not sure but along with the mental picture of what the wedding will look like this next Saturday, are a plethora of real pictures I have of them through their growing years. They were mostly happy, energetic boys with a love for each other that held a bond like glue. Even when they didn't appear to like each other on the surface, when the dust cleared, it was obvious that these three boys loved each other.
It makes me proud to be their mother. I feel confident in their abilities to take care of whatever life hands them. I'm not worried for them at all. I guess my feelings this morning are those of happiness mixed with a little melancholy as I see all of my little boys as grown men.
Throughout Ryan's engagement, short as it was, I've adopted the attitude of "good, finally, check it off the list of things to do". I was not going to be sad or emotional about this last marriage of my sons because I was feeling a since of retirement in the act. In fact I just adore Amy as much as my other two daughter in laws, Kari and Amanda. Each young woman is as unique in personality and talent as my sons are. To me, they have truly found their "soul-mates".
So why this sadness and welling up of tears? I'm not sure but along with the mental picture of what the wedding will look like this next Saturday, are a plethora of real pictures I have of them through their growing years. They were mostly happy, energetic boys with a love for each other that held a bond like glue. Even when they didn't appear to like each other on the surface, when the dust cleared, it was obvious that these three boys loved each other.
It makes me proud to be their mother. I feel confident in their abilities to take care of whatever life hands them. I'm not worried for them at all. I guess my feelings this morning are those of happiness mixed with a little melancholy as I see all of my little boys as grown men.
May 4, 2005
"The Day the Music Died"
That is the name of a song about the day music died as the songwriter knew it. He knew it would never be the same again. Everything was changing and it wasn't near as much fun as it used to be.
At 4:00 a.m., May 4, 1993, Mama died. I watched her close her eyes and inhale for the last time. The day my mama died, was the day a part of me died. I knew that it would never be the same. Everything has changed and it isn't near as fun as it used to be.
Mom loved to laugh at a good teasing and she was teased a lot. She had a good nature about it though and knew that the teasing was because people loved her.
It seems natural to think about her in our kitchen in Port Neches wearing an apron and cooking something delicious. No one could make fried chicken or coconut cream pie like my mama could. She never worried about how much food there would be. She just hoped there would be enough for left overs.
Mom, It would sure be fun to be in Port Neches with you and Daddy, Richard and Johnny, sitting around the dinning room table playing a round of "42".
I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day!
Mary Lou
At 4:00 a.m., May 4, 1993, Mama died. I watched her close her eyes and inhale for the last time. The day my mama died, was the day a part of me died. I knew that it would never be the same. Everything has changed and it isn't near as fun as it used to be.
Mom loved to laugh at a good teasing and she was teased a lot. She had a good nature about it though and knew that the teasing was because people loved her.
It seems natural to think about her in our kitchen in Port Neches wearing an apron and cooking something delicious. No one could make fried chicken or coconut cream pie like my mama could. She never worried about how much food there would be. She just hoped there would be enough for left overs.
Mom, It would sure be fun to be in Port Neches with you and Daddy, Richard and Johnny, sitting around the dinning room table playing a round of "42".
I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day!
Mary Lou
May 2, 2005
Homer
My male cat, Homer, is so funny to watch. He can bat around a wodded up piece of paper for the longest. He likes to get on my desk right in front of the computer screen. He used to paw at the cursor arrow that moved on the monitor, but then he learned that he couldn't catch it. So now he just ignores it. One day I went into my bathroom and saw much of the roll of toilet paper scredded and lying on the floor. Later I caught the culprit sitting on the toilet seat using his teeth to do the damage. Later we learned that Homer had a thing for toilet paper. He came strutting into the living room carrying a whole roll of toilet paper in his teeth. He deposited it beside our other cat, Baby, as if it was a trophy.
Last night Kim opened the bedroom door where I was already down in bed watching TV. Both Homer and my female black cat, Baby, came running in. Baby is about 3 years old and has learned that unless she hides, she will quickly be exiled from the room. So Baby immediately runs under the bed to hide. Homer hasn't figured that out he yet. So he will leap lovingly onto my bed and cuddle up next to my legs where he thinks he'll get to sleep for the night. Of course Kim easily picks him up and puts him out. Baby who by now has inched her way to the centermost point under our bed, is not as easy to catch. So we forget about her for the time and leave the door open.
The same thing happens when he dashes outside as I open the patio door. He likes to pretend that he is a tiger crouching behind the long grass ready to pouch on an unsuspecting lizard. Again he is easily retrieved and put back into the house. So trusting of us humans!
Homer is good company too. While I'm sitting on my couch grading papers, he'll sit with me and put his paws ont he papers or he'll try to "catch" the ink pen that I'm using. Then every now and then, just to be sure I've not forgotten he is there, he'll reach one soft paw up to my face. Or maybe it is just his way of saying that he loves me. Right now Homer is crouched in the doorway to this room staying closeby. My "guardcat"!
Yep, everyone needs a Homer cat. He can really entertain, be a companion or just ignore you. What
more does anyone need in a friend than that?
ML
Last night Kim opened the bedroom door where I was already down in bed watching TV. Both Homer and my female black cat, Baby, came running in. Baby is about 3 years old and has learned that unless she hides, she will quickly be exiled from the room. So Baby immediately runs under the bed to hide. Homer hasn't figured that out he yet. So he will leap lovingly onto my bed and cuddle up next to my legs where he thinks he'll get to sleep for the night. Of course Kim easily picks him up and puts him out. Baby who by now has inched her way to the centermost point under our bed, is not as easy to catch. So we forget about her for the time and leave the door open.
The same thing happens when he dashes outside as I open the patio door. He likes to pretend that he is a tiger crouching behind the long grass ready to pouch on an unsuspecting lizard. Again he is easily retrieved and put back into the house. So trusting of us humans!
Homer is good company too. While I'm sitting on my couch grading papers, he'll sit with me and put his paws ont he papers or he'll try to "catch" the ink pen that I'm using. Then every now and then, just to be sure I've not forgotten he is there, he'll reach one soft paw up to my face. Or maybe it is just his way of saying that he loves me. Right now Homer is crouched in the doorway to this room staying closeby. My "guardcat"!
Yep, everyone needs a Homer cat. He can really entertain, be a companion or just ignore you. What
more does anyone need in a friend than that?
ML
May 1, 2005
Its May Again
Today is May 1. In three more days it will be May 4th and 12 years since my mother passed away from cancer. I miss my mom every day but around this time of year I realize just how much.
The cool breeze and spring warmth make me want to drive to my hometown. I used to get up on a Sunday morning like this and announce out of the blue that I was going to Port Neches. It was so fun to just show up at church and surprise my mom and dad. They were always glad to see me and never failed to show that enthusiasm in their greetings.
Two days after my mom died, was Mother's Day. That year I had ordered a cute "mama bunny" that hung from a doorknob with clasped paws. She was dressed in a blue cotton floral printed dress and apron. Just the sort of thing that my mother would have found delightful. But I never had a chance to give it to her. It sits in my cedar chest today.
We called the funeral home at 4:00 a.m. My oldest brother had gone back to his house only five hours before. My sister in law's mother was a retired nurse and she stayed with my mom and me that night. We had only been asleep for a couple of hours. My other brother, the middle sibling, slept in another bedroom unaware that our mother had just passed away. My dad who had a memory loss, was also asleep in another room. I called my older brother on the phone, " Hello. Its me. She's gone."
Barbara must have been a wonderful nurse because she acted with such superb ability and caring warmth that whole time. Her sleeping bag on the floor at the foot of my mom's bed was her bed. I was asleep on the living room couch in front of the door that opened into my mother's bedroom. I couldn't sleep and each time Barbara got up to check on my mother, I went to help. The last time that she checked mom's vital signs, she stood behind me and wrapped her arms around me as we both looked, watched and waited. Mother's eyes had been closed for a week and in her coma breathed that heavy, gravely way people do when they are dying. "The death rattle" my grandmother had called it. Then with one last labored breath, she didn't exhale. Barbara put her stethoscope to her chest and said, "she's gone." We embraced again as we continued to look on the now lifeless body I once called my mom.
Today is May 1 and a sunny Sunday with a slight breeze. I felt the urge to jump in the car and go to Port Neches this morning. Of course, I didn't because I knew that the house on the corner of Llano and Holland was now occupied with another family.
My mom, Louise Ritchey, was a great lady. She could cook better than anyone I know and would seem tireless as she started the dishwasher at the end of a long day of work. When I picture my mom, I see a smiling woman that loved her family in everything she did.
When my mother died, I felt like part of me died too. Its never been the same. I still can't believe she isn't still sitting in front of the TV watching the Astros or behind her sewing machine making a dress. My mother was the person that most influenced my life.
I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day!
ML
The cool breeze and spring warmth make me want to drive to my hometown. I used to get up on a Sunday morning like this and announce out of the blue that I was going to Port Neches. It was so fun to just show up at church and surprise my mom and dad. They were always glad to see me and never failed to show that enthusiasm in their greetings.
Two days after my mom died, was Mother's Day. That year I had ordered a cute "mama bunny" that hung from a doorknob with clasped paws. She was dressed in a blue cotton floral printed dress and apron. Just the sort of thing that my mother would have found delightful. But I never had a chance to give it to her. It sits in my cedar chest today.
We called the funeral home at 4:00 a.m. My oldest brother had gone back to his house only five hours before. My sister in law's mother was a retired nurse and she stayed with my mom and me that night. We had only been asleep for a couple of hours. My other brother, the middle sibling, slept in another bedroom unaware that our mother had just passed away. My dad who had a memory loss, was also asleep in another room. I called my older brother on the phone, " Hello. Its me. She's gone."
Barbara must have been a wonderful nurse because she acted with such superb ability and caring warmth that whole time. Her sleeping bag on the floor at the foot of my mom's bed was her bed. I was asleep on the living room couch in front of the door that opened into my mother's bedroom. I couldn't sleep and each time Barbara got up to check on my mother, I went to help. The last time that she checked mom's vital signs, she stood behind me and wrapped her arms around me as we both looked, watched and waited. Mother's eyes had been closed for a week and in her coma breathed that heavy, gravely way people do when they are dying. "The death rattle" my grandmother had called it. Then with one last labored breath, she didn't exhale. Barbara put her stethoscope to her chest and said, "she's gone." We embraced again as we continued to look on the now lifeless body I once called my mom.
Today is May 1 and a sunny Sunday with a slight breeze. I felt the urge to jump in the car and go to Port Neches this morning. Of course, I didn't because I knew that the house on the corner of Llano and Holland was now occupied with another family.
My mom, Louise Ritchey, was a great lady. She could cook better than anyone I know and would seem tireless as she started the dishwasher at the end of a long day of work. When I picture my mom, I see a smiling woman that loved her family in everything she did.
When my mother died, I felt like part of me died too. Its never been the same. I still can't believe she isn't still sitting in front of the TV watching the Astros or behind her sewing machine making a dress. My mother was the person that most influenced my life.
I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day!
ML
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