My sister Barbara and I are alike in a lot of ways. Yes, we were even mistaken for twins once on the subway in DC, which is a hoot. Remember that, Sis? We don't really look that much alike at all. But the truth is that while we have our similarities (most of which are not visible), we are two very distinct people with completely different personalities.
She likes to “be.”
I like to “do.”
She’s Mary. She’s willing to just soak it all up.
I’m Martha. I struggle with sitting quietly. I need to be “helping.”
Her ideal vacation is relaxing in a beach chair. Come on, have you seen my skin? I can handle the beach chair for about an hour and after that, I’d be as red as a beet. HA!
My ideal vacation is seeing everything within a 50-mile radius. She thinks I’m nuts. She is all for seeing new things but likes to keep the visits short: an hour in a museum is just about right.
Well, this weekend, she and her family are coming to my place for a visit, and I’m totally psyched. She called at 10 PM last night to confirm. Naturally, wanting to be prepared, I had already cleaned just in case. Hey, I wanted to be ready. HA! We talked for a minute, and I launched into my detailed planning strategy. I’m wanting to know the scoop about what we are doing, what we’ll have time to see, etc. I’m ready for a hike, the zoo, a museum, etc. She’s content with whatever. She'd just like to spend time together and lay low.
So we compromised. We’re going to a local park for a picnic and some play time. Of course, I’m totally down with that. I love picnics and every moment with my nieces and nephews is precious.
We talked again this morning, and we started laughing at how different we are. She married a “doer,” and so she has 2 of us to contend with most of the time, which makes it even more comical. Funny how different we are and yet how much we are the same as well! Despite our differences, my sister is my best friend, my confidante, my other self. No one else knows me better. She keeps me real with myself and others. I'm so grateful that she is MY sister.
I love ya, Sis! Can’t wait to just “be” with you this weekend.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
I'm Happy With My Height
My friend posted a link to this article, and after reading it, I just laughed. (See, short people can be happy. We laugh, and some of us laugh A LOT. So there...) WHATEVER! Of course, short people have chips on their shoulders because all you tall people out there are always dropping crumbs on us from above. DUH! Come on, keep your mouths closed when you chew!
The truth is that I don’t really mind being short most of the time, and the more weight I lose, the better I enjoy my diminutive stature. It’s not that rough. I'm more flexible and wiry now. I can kick up over my head when I do Tae-Bo. OK, to the giants among us, that means I can kick up to your stomach, but come on, you are slightly impressed, you know you are.
I can get around with ease most of the time. I particularly love those signs that tell people to duck down so they won’t hit their heads on the stairs, etc. I almost never have to duck down to fit anywhere, and I don’t often bang my head on low-hanging chandeliers either. Plus I don’t block other people’s views at the theatre because I usually leave my booster seat at home. OK, that’s a joke. I don’t own a booster seat, but I confess that I have thought about purchasing one.
However, there are moments like grocery shopping where it’s not all that fun being height challenged. I’ve gotten creative in recent months with getting supplies off of the top shelf at Meijer. I mean, I can’t wait around all day for some tall person to rescue me. Now some of my friends may say that I’m missing the opportunity to appear helpless to some tall, single male shopper who might happen along and be dreaming of meeting a single smallish female afraid of heights who needs help with getting things off the top shelves. But come on, the “damsel in distress” thing is over-used these days, and I’m no actress. I’m not afraid to ask for help when I need it or accept it when it is offered, but if I can come up with a solution on my own, I will do it. I’m creatively independent that way. I’ve been known to use a spatula or another product to aid me in retrieving my favorite salad dressing, and just try putting those granola bars out of my reach—I’ll find a way to get to them anyway.
And let’s not forget the joys of air travel. I love to fly, but those overhead bins are not made for people like me. I try to keep my carry-on bag small so that I can just keep it at my feet instead. After all, I don’t need the leg room since my feet barely touch the floor. In the past, I’ve had to resort to some interesting tactics to retrieve my bag from the back of those compartments, and so those bins scare me. It’s like a black hole. (shiver)
So sure, there are disadvantages on both sides of the height world, I suppose. Yes, I always thought it would be nice to be a bit taller, but at present, I rather like being me, even if I am just a squirt, a shrimp, a hobbit-sized person.
But just in case there is some truth to this study, I’ve now sworn off men that are under 6 feet tall because I want to give any future offspring a fighting chance for height. Sorry, but I just don’t think smaller stature men should apply for the role. To my fellow petites, I know it may seem selfish of me to discriminate against my own kind especially since I am a card-carrying member of the pint-sized league, but my only thoughts are for my children. I have to put them first.
Disclaimer: The author admits that the use of sarcasm was copiously used in this article, and she begs your tolerance with her choice of expression.
**Taken from Puck’s final monologue in William Shakespeare’s masterpiece: A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 5, Scene 1
The truth is that I don’t really mind being short most of the time, and the more weight I lose, the better I enjoy my diminutive stature. It’s not that rough. I'm more flexible and wiry now. I can kick up over my head when I do Tae-Bo. OK, to the giants among us, that means I can kick up to your stomach, but come on, you are slightly impressed, you know you are.
I can get around with ease most of the time. I particularly love those signs that tell people to duck down so they won’t hit their heads on the stairs, etc. I almost never have to duck down to fit anywhere, and I don’t often bang my head on low-hanging chandeliers either. Plus I don’t block other people’s views at the theatre because I usually leave my booster seat at home. OK, that’s a joke. I don’t own a booster seat, but I confess that I have thought about purchasing one.
However, there are moments like grocery shopping where it’s not all that fun being height challenged. I’ve gotten creative in recent months with getting supplies off of the top shelf at Meijer. I mean, I can’t wait around all day for some tall person to rescue me. Now some of my friends may say that I’m missing the opportunity to appear helpless to some tall, single male shopper who might happen along and be dreaming of meeting a single smallish female afraid of heights who needs help with getting things off the top shelves. But come on, the “damsel in distress” thing is over-used these days, and I’m no actress. I’m not afraid to ask for help when I need it or accept it when it is offered, but if I can come up with a solution on my own, I will do it. I’m creatively independent that way. I’ve been known to use a spatula or another product to aid me in retrieving my favorite salad dressing, and just try putting those granola bars out of my reach—I’ll find a way to get to them anyway.
And let’s not forget the joys of air travel. I love to fly, but those overhead bins are not made for people like me. I try to keep my carry-on bag small so that I can just keep it at my feet instead. After all, I don’t need the leg room since my feet barely touch the floor. In the past, I’ve had to resort to some interesting tactics to retrieve my bag from the back of those compartments, and so those bins scare me. It’s like a black hole. (shiver)
So sure, there are disadvantages on both sides of the height world, I suppose. Yes, I always thought it would be nice to be a bit taller, but at present, I rather like being me, even if I am just a squirt, a shrimp, a hobbit-sized person.
1. I don’t think height, any more than money, truly buys happiness. I think happiness is a choice, a mind set. It's an option open to all of us -- every day, every moment
2. I don’t believe that taller people are necessarily smarter. I think it’s just a rumor. I’m not a MENSA candidate myself, but I’m not a complete idiot either.
But just in case there is some truth to this study, I’ve now sworn off men that are under 6 feet tall because I want to give any future offspring a fighting chance for height. Sorry, but I just don’t think smaller stature men should apply for the role. To my fellow petites, I know it may seem selfish of me to discriminate against my own kind especially since I am a card-carrying member of the pint-sized league, but my only thoughts are for my children. I have to put them first.
Disclaimer: The author admits that the use of sarcasm was copiously used in this article, and she begs your tolerance with her choice of expression.
**If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
If you pardon, we will mend...**
**Taken from Puck’s final monologue in William Shakespeare’s masterpiece: A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 5, Scene 1
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Laughing At Myself -- WAIT That Isn't Me!
My friend Lisa shared her “yearbook photos” with me based on this fun website, and then I just had to try it out for myself. I think my favorite is 1966, but 1978 is kinda growing on me, too. I was in stitches at these hilarious “yearbook” shots. Feel free to check out my silly pictures or make your own using a snapshot of yourself. Lots of laughs!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Creating New Jane Austen Fans
Everyone knows that I love anything Jane Austen. I’ve read all the books more than once, I own most of the films made from her books, and I recently traveled across the ocean to visit some of the locations in Jane’s books and the film locations of the movies. So you could say I’m a fan. But the latest Austenesque book out there kinda has me half curious, half scared. I mean I try to read and see everything that has anything to do with Jane Austen, but I’m not sure about this selection. Although I must confess, I am considering picking up a copy just to check it out for laughs. Is that disloyal of me? Would my fellow Jane Austen fans disown me? I wonder...
According to the author Grahame-Smith, the original text of the novel was well-suited for use as a zombie horror story: “You have this fiercely independent heroine, you have this dashing heroic gentleman, you have a militia camped out for seemingly no reason whatsoever nearby, and people are always walking here and there and taking carriage rides here and there. It was just ripe for gore and senseless violence. From my perspective anyway.”
That totally makes me laugh. I'm just not sure if I approve of this new ploy to create more Jane Austen fans. HA! On Amazon.com, I also see that there is a novel called "Sense and Sensibility and Sea Creatures" as well. YIKES! What is next? Captain Wentworth in Persuasion as a vampire? WAIT! I might actually use that idea. I like it. Hee hee!
Hmmmm...I am quite sure that Jane just rolled over in her grave.
Wait and See What GOD Does
I discovered Brandon Heath’s music about 4 months ago, and the more I listen, the more I like it. It kinda grows on you. Well, at least, it has on me. The song, “Wait and See,” is a great reminder, as I start another week, that despite my failures of last week or the week before, GOD isn’t done. HE is still working on me. There is hope. I might not always understand what HE is doing, but I know HE is busy and won't quit on me. There is great comfort in that...can you hear it?
There is hope for me yet
Because God won’t forget
All the plans he’s made for me
I have to wait and see
He’s not finished with me yet
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Rekindling a Memory
Whenever I feel a bit down or am battling a migraine due to the surly clouds overhead, I think back on a happy memory. I take myself back to another moment in time and revel in it. And let me clarify, I’m not talking about returning to a previous life. I don’t believe in reincarnation, thank-you-very-much. HA! But I do like to think back to a delicious moment in my actual past and savor in it for just a minute, and somehow it helps the present discomfort.
When I was in England, I caught myself breathing in the air, listening carefully and surveying my surroundings with just such a purpose. I wanted to remember everything about that moment. I wanted to fully recall the sights, sounds and smells of that instant so that I could return there again in my memory. My England adventure was full of such moments, but there are other priceless moments I can vividly upload in the widescreeen of my mind if I just shut my eyes for a moment:
Yes, I love collecting memories. But these memories are a reminder of something more. My memories are full of the often behind-the-scenes providence and loving kindness of a gracious Heavenly FATHER. If I look carefully with my eyes wide, I can still make out his hand prints throughout my past--guiding, holding, sustaining, delivering. HE was there in the past, HE is here in the now, and HE will continue to be the ONE PERSON consistent throughout the entirety of my life. I am blessed beyond measure with each and every moment HE has given me on this tilted planet we call home.
Thank you, LORD, for the gift of memories. I am so grateful. Help me not to dwell too much on the past, but to embrace the present and look ahead to the future YOU have in store for me.
When I was in England, I caught myself breathing in the air, listening carefully and surveying my surroundings with just such a purpose. I wanted to remember everything about that moment. I wanted to fully recall the sights, sounds and smells of that instant so that I could return there again in my memory. My England adventure was full of such moments, but there are other priceless moments I can vividly upload in the widescreeen of my mind if I just shut my eyes for a moment:
My Mom and my Aunt Peggy learning to Waltz off of a library DVD—the giggles that followed brought us all near tears!
Holding my nieces and nephews for the first time—the excitement over holding such beautiful bundles never gets old!
Exploring Biltmore House on the special rooftop tour—so fun to get a behind-the-scenes tour and realizing my hidden dream to give tours myself one day!
Watching my sister come down the aisle to meet her husband-to-be—my attempts to hold back the tears were nearly thwarted when I saw her struggling, too!
Boating around the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore—the spray of the freshwater on my cheeks, the delightful blue green hues of the water, etc.!
Hiking up to the top of Chimney Rock—breathless from the hike and also from the incredible panoramic views up there. Truly amazing!
Yes, I love collecting memories. But these memories are a reminder of something more. My memories are full of the often behind-the-scenes providence and loving kindness of a gracious Heavenly FATHER. If I look carefully with my eyes wide, I can still make out his hand prints throughout my past--guiding, holding, sustaining, delivering. HE was there in the past, HE is here in the now, and HE will continue to be the ONE PERSON consistent throughout the entirety of my life. I am blessed beyond measure with each and every moment HE has given me on this tilted planet we call home.
Thank you, LORD, for the gift of memories. I am so grateful. Help me not to dwell too much on the past, but to embrace the present and look ahead to the future YOU have in store for me.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Conversation With Becky
My friend Becky is building her first home. It’s pretty exciting, and I’m personally thrilled for her. She and I have spent quite a bit of time the last two weekends at the home builders’ design center and a run into Lowes.
On a related topic, she sprang this conversation opener at me a couple of weeks ago...
And so we’ve been going on and on about it ever since. She checks in on a daily or weekly basis to find out how I am progressing with my search, and I just laugh. Of course, I’m not on the 2-month boyfriend plan any more than Becky is on the 5-year marriage plan now that she has decided to go ahead and buy a house. It’s all just for laughs.
Truth is that with Becky and I, you really can’t take anything we say to each other seriously. Yes, we both like wit and sarcasm. And we can keep the banter going back and forth for quite a period. I'm sure we have on occasion shocked more than a few people with our quips, but it's one of the things that makes our friendship special. It's a beautiful thing.
UPDATE: I am thrilled to announce that several people volunteered to help with Becky's move after this post, and I believe that takes me off the hook regarding the 2-month boyfriend plan. WOOHOO!! Becky, however, feels that I am NOT fulfilling my end of the bargain, but I see things differently.
On a related topic, she sprang this conversation opener at me a couple of weeks ago...
Becky: I’ve been thinking...(pause) that it would be a big help to me if you had a boyfriend who could help me move.
Me: [choking] What?
Becky: You have like 2 months to make the arrangements. You can do it, and it would really help me out.
Me: [chuckling] Ommmm...right. I guess I just needed the proper motivation to make it happen.
Becky: Exactly.
And so we’ve been going on and on about it ever since. She checks in on a daily or weekly basis to find out how I am progressing with my search, and I just laugh. Of course, I’m not on the 2-month boyfriend plan any more than Becky is on the 5-year marriage plan now that she has decided to go ahead and buy a house. It’s all just for laughs.
Truth is that with Becky and I, you really can’t take anything we say to each other seriously. Yes, we both like wit and sarcasm. And we can keep the banter going back and forth for quite a period. I'm sure we have on occasion shocked more than a few people with our quips, but it's one of the things that makes our friendship special. It's a beautiful thing.
UPDATE: I am thrilled to announce that several people volunteered to help with Becky's move after this post, and I believe that takes me off the hook regarding the 2-month boyfriend plan. WOOHOO!! Becky, however, feels that I am NOT fulfilling my end of the bargain, but I see things differently.
How Will It All Turn Out, I Wonder...
A couple of times a year, I get so enraptured in a book I am reading that I just simply can’t bear to put it down. It must be read, and so I will stay up until the wee hours of the morning finishing the captivating tale. Sometimes it is one of many new novels on my shelves that I just couldn’t resist on my latest trek to Barnes & Noble, and sometimes it is an old dear classic like Jane Eyre. Yes, even though I know how the story ends, I always wait on pins and needles to see if Mr. Rochester and his beloved Jane will finally be reunited. [Sigh! Good stuff that!]
Anyway, this weekend a new novel was to blame, The Host by Stephenie Meyer (author of the Twilight series I read earlier this spring). As bedtime approached, I found it hard to resist it’s crisp pages. I just had to continue reading to see what would happen to my new friends. I couldn’t set it aside for mere mortal rest. I couldn’t bear to be parted from Wanderer, Melanie (yes, I loved her name), Jamie, Jeb, Jared and Ian. I’m loyal to a fault. I had to see this imaginative story through to completion, and so I did.
Around 4:30 AM this morning, I finished the book and found my imagination alive and my heart beating rapidly. Yep, I was wired. No way that sleep was going to come to me easily in the next hour and a half before my alarm clock would jolt me up. So I got out of bed, watched a bit of TV and then opted to get ready for work and just get my day started early sans sleep. YIKES!
So here I am. It is 7 AM, and I’ve already been here at work for an hour, and so I’m taking a mini break to type this and enjoy a granola bar. Life is good.
My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to stay awake until 9 PM this evening. I can do it. I believe. Well actually I believe in the copious amounts of Mountain Dew I am drinking at present. However, if my co-workers find me missing after lunch today, they should be advised to check for me under my desk, where I may be found fast asleep.
Anyway, this weekend a new novel was to blame, The Host by Stephenie Meyer (author of the Twilight series I read earlier this spring). As bedtime approached, I found it hard to resist it’s crisp pages. I just had to continue reading to see what would happen to my new friends. I couldn’t set it aside for mere mortal rest. I couldn’t bear to be parted from Wanderer, Melanie (yes, I loved her name), Jamie, Jeb, Jared and Ian. I’m loyal to a fault. I had to see this imaginative story through to completion, and so I did.
Around 4:30 AM this morning, I finished the book and found my imagination alive and my heart beating rapidly. Yep, I was wired. No way that sleep was going to come to me easily in the next hour and a half before my alarm clock would jolt me up. So I got out of bed, watched a bit of TV and then opted to get ready for work and just get my day started early sans sleep. YIKES!
So here I am. It is 7 AM, and I’ve already been here at work for an hour, and so I’m taking a mini break to type this and enjoy a granola bar. Life is good.
My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to stay awake until 9 PM this evening. I can do it. I believe. Well actually I believe in the copious amounts of Mountain Dew I am drinking at present. However, if my co-workers find me missing after lunch today, they should be advised to check for me under my desk, where I may be found fast asleep.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Once Upon A Time…
When I got back from England, I was told by some coworkers that I needed to schedule a lunch to share my England photos. Here at the office, we call these events “Lunch ‘N Learns” where everyone brings their own lunch, and someone (me in this instance) provides the “entertainment” or “learning” session. AHEM! So I whittled down the number of photos to 399 (less than 10% of the 4,037 photos that I took) and scheduled 2 separate lunch events to fit everyone in.
Now me, I love photos. I’m crazy about them. Heck, I even like photos of perfect strangers. A few years back, I worked with a photographer for a few months in her studio, and I really enjoyed working with and editing photos of people I didn’t know. I like studying pictures and capturing new ideas for my own photos. But I know quite well that not everyone is like me. It’s a shame but a reality all the same. HA! Not everyone is a photo buff or likes seeing photos of people they know let alone someone they are not acquainted with. Especially vacation photos--everyone knows the stigma with that. So I purposefully did not invite everyone in the department to these lunches. I just sent out select invitations to a couple of people that that had asked to see my photos. Well, my little intimate gatherings snowballed.
Today I had the first sharing session, and my 4 co-workers were so kind and generous with their time. They patiently sat through my nearly 1-hour slideshow, asking me questions at the right moments and showing great interest. Next Tuesday, I’m scheduled for the 2nd viewing, and it looks like there will be 9 of us. WOW! I’m still a bit shocked by that. Honestly, I didn’t know that so many people would want to see my trip photos. I’m guessing that some of them are just being kind, but I’m still touched. I did have a splendid time in England, and I do love sharing the stories, memories and photos of my adventure.
Hmmmm...I'm ready to go back again.
Becky? Jessica? When are you free?
Now me, I love photos. I’m crazy about them. Heck, I even like photos of perfect strangers. A few years back, I worked with a photographer for a few months in her studio, and I really enjoyed working with and editing photos of people I didn’t know. I like studying pictures and capturing new ideas for my own photos. But I know quite well that not everyone is like me. It’s a shame but a reality all the same. HA! Not everyone is a photo buff or likes seeing photos of people they know let alone someone they are not acquainted with. Especially vacation photos--everyone knows the stigma with that. So I purposefully did not invite everyone in the department to these lunches. I just sent out select invitations to a couple of people that that had asked to see my photos. Well, my little intimate gatherings snowballed.
Today I had the first sharing session, and my 4 co-workers were so kind and generous with their time. They patiently sat through my nearly 1-hour slideshow, asking me questions at the right moments and showing great interest. Next Tuesday, I’m scheduled for the 2nd viewing, and it looks like there will be 9 of us. WOW! I’m still a bit shocked by that. Honestly, I didn’t know that so many people would want to see my trip photos. I’m guessing that some of them are just being kind, but I’m still touched. I did have a splendid time in England, and I do love sharing the stories, memories and photos of my adventure.
Hmmmm...I'm ready to go back again.
Becky? Jessica? When are you free?
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Enjoying the Calm While I Can
My department had a pitch-in lunch today. So we had a nice long lunch break with good food and excellent conversation, but then afterwards, it was back to business as usual. It was a bit hard to get motivated again, but we all slugged through. It was extra hard for Diet Girl since the party tables got moved down by my desk for a change, and all the leftovers were left staring at me, beckoning me over. I was pretty good though. [sigh!]
Actually, my life at the office is back to normal again. Lots to do and more projects coming in every day, but my personal and work life are starting to get back into their proper priority placement. No more overtime. WOOHOO!! Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been able to meet up with friends for dinner, catch up over coffee (No, I didn't drink it), get out on walks again, etc. It’s been pretty nice. I’ve also started planning a couple of trips with friends and family members, too. I like this pace, but I know it won’t last for long...have to enjoy each moment of calm while I can.
Thank you, LORD, for a bit of quiet. I confess it makes me nervous though...
Actually, my life at the office is back to normal again. Lots to do and more projects coming in every day, but my personal and work life are starting to get back into their proper priority placement. No more overtime. WOOHOO!! Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been able to meet up with friends for dinner, catch up over coffee (No, I didn't drink it), get out on walks again, etc. It’s been pretty nice. I’ve also started planning a couple of trips with friends and family members, too. I like this pace, but I know it won’t last for long...have to enjoy each moment of calm while I can.
Thank you, LORD, for a bit of quiet. I confess it makes me nervous though...
Monday, July 13, 2009
Recent Personal Headlines
Fireworks Over Lake Huron Blew My Mind...I was home in Michigan over the 4th of July and had a fabulous visit with my family, even though we were missing some of the gang. (sniffle, sniffle) On Friday, we headed to Lexington to catch the local fireworks at the beach, but the crowds were incredible, and parking was scarce. So we opted to drive North up the Lake Huron coast a few miles to another familiar spot in the hopes that we could still see the fireworks from that location, too. We set up our chairs and blankets and waited for some sky action, and the wait was well worth it. The locals near the park put on their own marvelous fireworks display about 9:40 PM, and we ooohed and ahhhed over each burst for 30 minutes or more. We were so close. It was as if we were having our own private fireworks show. There were only 2 other families at that beach, and so it was all pretty special. Just as the neighbors finished their fireworks, we could see up the beach that the Lexington Harbor fireworks were underway, and so we caught 2 shows back-to-back. It was incredible to see the fireworks over the water, which reflected the brilliant hues wondefully. My brother-in-law took over 900 photos with my new camera just to see what it could do, and some of the shots are amazing. What a great night!
Once a Klutz, Always a Klutz...While in Michigan, I tripped on a door jam between my parents’ kitchen and dining rooms, and really banged up my middle toe on my left foot. I thought it hurt worse than your typical stubbed toe, but when I checked on it a couple of hours later because it was still hurting, I was surprised to find it swollen and quite purple all the way around my toe. After a FREE family medical consultation with my Mom, sister and sister-in-law, the original diagnosis was that I had broken my toe. So I wrapped and taped my middle toe to another toe and went about my business as usual. After 2 days, the swelling decreased immensely, and today is day 10 after my injury, and the bruising is nearly gone, the pain is minimal, and I feel pretty good about it. So did I break my toe? Not sure, but if I did, it certainly didn’t keep me down for longer than 10 minutes, which was a major praise.
It Sucks To Be Me...Quite Literally. I finally broke down and bought a new vacuum cleaner. I looked at the Dyson models at the store, but somehow I couldn’t justify forking over $400 for a new vacuum for my one-bedroom apartment. HA! So I settled on a bagless Bissell with the hypoallergenic filters, and it has done a marvelous job so far at less than a ¼ of the price of a Dyson. I was rather overwhelmed by the crud it pulled up out of my carpet, and I keep a pretty tidy house. So naturally I had to remove, empty and clean the dirty filters after that first night of use, which led to a major migraine headache and fun with my allergies for a couple of days – probably from inhaling the said dust particles. Oh well, at least the carpet was clean. HA!
Once a Klutz, Always a Klutz...While in Michigan, I tripped on a door jam between my parents’ kitchen and dining rooms, and really banged up my middle toe on my left foot. I thought it hurt worse than your typical stubbed toe, but when I checked on it a couple of hours later because it was still hurting, I was surprised to find it swollen and quite purple all the way around my toe. After a FREE family medical consultation with my Mom, sister and sister-in-law, the original diagnosis was that I had broken my toe. So I wrapped and taped my middle toe to another toe and went about my business as usual. After 2 days, the swelling decreased immensely, and today is day 10 after my injury, and the bruising is nearly gone, the pain is minimal, and I feel pretty good about it. So did I break my toe? Not sure, but if I did, it certainly didn’t keep me down for longer than 10 minutes, which was a major praise.
It Sucks To Be Me...Quite Literally. I finally broke down and bought a new vacuum cleaner. I looked at the Dyson models at the store, but somehow I couldn’t justify forking over $400 for a new vacuum for my one-bedroom apartment. HA! So I settled on a bagless Bissell with the hypoallergenic filters, and it has done a marvelous job so far at less than a ¼ of the price of a Dyson. I was rather overwhelmed by the crud it pulled up out of my carpet, and I keep a pretty tidy house. So naturally I had to remove, empty and clean the dirty filters after that first night of use, which led to a major migraine headache and fun with my allergies for a couple of days – probably from inhaling the said dust particles. Oh well, at least the carpet was clean. HA!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
What Would You Do?
For as long as I can remember, I have been interested in history. I love history and learning about the past. I love stories, and every life is full of stories if you just pause to listen.
World War II history confounds me. My grandfather died in the war, and naturally, I think that drives my thirst for knowledge to know more about that time period. His parents, my great grandparents, both emigrated to the United States separately from Germany. They met here in the States, married and had 4 children in Michigan. Their one son, my grandfather, was drafted into the army and left behind my grandmother and his 2 very young daughters to fight against his parent's homeland and ultimately give his life.
I've watched countless documentaries and films about the war. I've spent hours researching the subject online, reading books, studying articles about those years. And the one question that also emerges for me is what would have I done if I had been there? Would I have been one of many who turned in my Jewish neighbors? Or would I have stood against the barbarity? Would I have helped to save the lives of those around me? Or would I have considered my own well being above that of others?
I'm not Jewish, but I have long been interested in the chosen people of GOD--their heritage, their culture, their plight, their survival. I grew up in a Christian home, loving the stories of the Children of Israel throughout the Old Testament. I envy their ability to look back at history and see their heritage not just over decades or centuries but over thousands of years. These are the descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and they certainly haven't had it easy. They have endured so much over the centuries, and yet here they are still with us, still living amongst us, and whether they acknowledge it or not, GOD is still watching over them even now.
This morning I watched a Netflix selection on my laptop, The Children of Chabannes. It is a documentary about a village in France that integrated hundreds of Jewish refugee children from Germany into their local public schools at the beginning of the war. Truthfully, I don't often hear good things about France during World War II. Most see the French as giving early concessions to Hitler. They did give him half of France without too much trouble, and the other half, lead by the Vichy government, did little to stop the atrocities affecting Europe or their own region. So in my limited study, I haven't really heard many positive stories about France in the war, but this story was different.
This Creuse region in southern France, which was part of unoccupied France under the Vichy government, protected these children in their remote country setting, educated them, fed and clothed them, and ultimately helped the children escape into safe zones where a great many of them emigrated to the United States and other parts of the globe. Towards the end of the war, the safe haven came under attack, and the Vichy government feeling more pressure from Germany, started rounding up more and more Jewish refugees and sending them to internment camps throughout Europe – even children.
Only 12 children were successfully removed from the Chateau de Chabannes, and of those only 4 died in the concentration camps. But as one of the French teachers stated in the documentary, “That was four too many.” That statement burns in my brains. It reminds me of that scene at the end of Schindler's List where he looks back at his life and feels he could have done more. He, who had saved so many, still saw little windows of opportunity where he might have done more. That is so convicting!
My story is still being written. I don't live in war-torn France in the middle of the twentieth century. I don't have an opportunity to hide or protect young Jewish children. But am I doing what I can to help those around me now? Or am I one of the many who would just look the other way?
LORD, I don't know where these thoughts are leading, and I don't know exactly why this story is tugging at my heart like it is. I don't exactly know where to start here, but I do know that there is always opportunity to do more. Please lead me. Please direct my steps. Please...
World War II history confounds me. My grandfather died in the war, and naturally, I think that drives my thirst for knowledge to know more about that time period. His parents, my great grandparents, both emigrated to the United States separately from Germany. They met here in the States, married and had 4 children in Michigan. Their one son, my grandfather, was drafted into the army and left behind my grandmother and his 2 very young daughters to fight against his parent's homeland and ultimately give his life.
I've watched countless documentaries and films about the war. I've spent hours researching the subject online, reading books, studying articles about those years. And the one question that also emerges for me is what would have I done if I had been there? Would I have been one of many who turned in my Jewish neighbors? Or would I have stood against the barbarity? Would I have helped to save the lives of those around me? Or would I have considered my own well being above that of others?
I'm not Jewish, but I have long been interested in the chosen people of GOD--their heritage, their culture, their plight, their survival. I grew up in a Christian home, loving the stories of the Children of Israel throughout the Old Testament. I envy their ability to look back at history and see their heritage not just over decades or centuries but over thousands of years. These are the descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and they certainly haven't had it easy. They have endured so much over the centuries, and yet here they are still with us, still living amongst us, and whether they acknowledge it or not, GOD is still watching over them even now.
This morning I watched a Netflix selection on my laptop, The Children of Chabannes. It is a documentary about a village in France that integrated hundreds of Jewish refugee children from Germany into their local public schools at the beginning of the war. Truthfully, I don't often hear good things about France during World War II. Most see the French as giving early concessions to Hitler. They did give him half of France without too much trouble, and the other half, lead by the Vichy government, did little to stop the atrocities affecting Europe or their own region. So in my limited study, I haven't really heard many positive stories about France in the war, but this story was different.
This Creuse region in southern France, which was part of unoccupied France under the Vichy government, protected these children in their remote country setting, educated them, fed and clothed them, and ultimately helped the children escape into safe zones where a great many of them emigrated to the United States and other parts of the globe. Towards the end of the war, the safe haven came under attack, and the Vichy government feeling more pressure from Germany, started rounding up more and more Jewish refugees and sending them to internment camps throughout Europe – even children.
Only 12 children were successfully removed from the Chateau de Chabannes, and of those only 4 died in the concentration camps. But as one of the French teachers stated in the documentary, “That was four too many.” That statement burns in my brains. It reminds me of that scene at the end of Schindler's List where he looks back at his life and feels he could have done more. He, who had saved so many, still saw little windows of opportunity where he might have done more. That is so convicting!
My story is still being written. I don't live in war-torn France in the middle of the twentieth century. I don't have an opportunity to hide or protect young Jewish children. But am I doing what I can to help those around me now? Or am I one of the many who would just look the other way?
LORD, I don't know where these thoughts are leading, and I don't know exactly why this story is tugging at my heart like it is. I don't exactly know where to start here, but I do know that there is always opportunity to do more. Please lead me. Please direct my steps. Please...
Open the eyes of my heart, LORD.*By Paul Baloche
Open the eyes of my heart.
I want to see YOU.
I want to see YOU.*
Friday, July 10, 2009
Difficult People: I Think I Am One...
We all know, work with, are related to or have some interaction with difficult people. People that frustrate us. The acquaintance that just knows which button to push. The coworker that likes to lay the blame on our door for every error. The relative that always reminds us of something in our past we would like left forgotten.
Yes, people aren’t perfect. We are, each of us, hopelessly flawed. Truth is that most of us probably ARE that difficult person in someone else's life, whether we know it or not. We’re selfish beings who want the best for ourselves and don’t always recognize or care how something will affect someone else. We have a difficult encounter with someone, and we’re so quick to defend ourselves or prove the other person wrong. We’ve got to get out the facts, set the record straight. At least I am that way. I get frustrated and want to correct the wrong at all costs, and today, I’m more than a bit convicted of it.
I can’t always control the circumstances. I can’t set the tone for every meeting. I can’t prevent people from speaking their minds or taking a conversation down a negative path. And I certainly cannot control how others in the discussion respond either. BUT I can control my own response. My reaction, my response to the situation or conversation is what I am culpable for. I am held accountable for my own actions and thoughts, and my response is exactly what I need to master or rather turn over to THE MASTER and get HIS guidance with daily.
LORD, help my response to always be one of love and not disgust, of compassion rather than debate. Help me to turn to YOU in my frustration and to seek YOUR counsel above all else.
Again, that new take on the Serenity Prayer comes to mind...
Yes, people aren’t perfect. We are, each of us, hopelessly flawed. Truth is that most of us probably ARE that difficult person in someone else's life, whether we know it or not. We’re selfish beings who want the best for ourselves and don’t always recognize or care how something will affect someone else. We have a difficult encounter with someone, and we’re so quick to defend ourselves or prove the other person wrong. We’ve got to get out the facts, set the record straight. At least I am that way. I get frustrated and want to correct the wrong at all costs, and today, I’m more than a bit convicted of it.
I can’t always control the circumstances. I can’t set the tone for every meeting. I can’t prevent people from speaking their minds or taking a conversation down a negative path. And I certainly cannot control how others in the discussion respond either. BUT I can control my own response. My reaction, my response to the situation or conversation is what I am culpable for. I am held accountable for my own actions and thoughts, and my response is exactly what I need to master or rather turn over to THE MASTER and get HIS guidance with daily.
LORD, help my response to always be one of love and not disgust, of compassion rather than debate. Help me to turn to YOU in my frustration and to seek YOUR counsel above all else.
Again, that new take on the Serenity Prayer comes to mind...
GOD grant me the serenity
To accept the people I cannot change,
The courage to change the one I can,
And the wisdom to know it's ME!
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
I’m Going to Michigan in the Morning. Ding Dong, the Bells Are Gonna Chime...
Not sure why My Fair Lady tunes (or at least my own rendition of songs like I’m Getting Married in the Morning) are dancing around in my head today, but there you have it. I’m in a show tunes mood, I guess. HA!
I’m off to my beloved home state tomorrow for a long weekend with family. Over the past 2 weeks, I’ve totally waffled back and forth as to whether or not I should make this trip. Should I take the time off from work so soon after being out for 2 weeks to go to England? Should I have the AC in my car looked at since it just stops working whenever it feels like it? Should I stay home and take care of stuff around my place -- like cleaning? Somehow though, I kept coming back to a conversation I had with a friend of mine over a year ago. She and I were discussing our vacation hours, and I was debating whether or not to take some time off. My friend piped up with a direct response that has played over and over in my head since.
My friend had just been diagnosed with cancer, and her words made quite a deep impression on me and even now, they still play over in my head. So, I’ve decided to take the time off...off to bond with my nieces and nephews, off to play games with my Mom, off to laugh with my Dad, off to chat with my Grandma, off to share England photos and stories, off to stroll along the beach with my sister, off to catch up with my brothers and sister-in-laws, off to be harassed by my brother-in-law, off to enjoy the fireworks over the lake and maybe enjoy a real grilled hamburger again...
Yep, this is Melanie, and I’m signing off now for Michigan. WOOHOO!!
Have a blessed and safe Fourth of July, All!
I’m off to my beloved home state tomorrow for a long weekend with family. Over the past 2 weeks, I’ve totally waffled back and forth as to whether or not I should make this trip. Should I take the time off from work so soon after being out for 2 weeks to go to England? Should I have the AC in my car looked at since it just stops working whenever it feels like it? Should I stay home and take care of stuff around my place -- like cleaning? Somehow though, I kept coming back to a conversation I had with a friend of mine over a year ago. She and I were discussing our vacation hours, and I was debating whether or not to take some time off. My friend piped up with a direct response that has played over and over in my head since.
"Mel, no one ever gets to the end of their life and says, ‘I wish I would have spent more time at the office.’ No. People most often regret not spending enough time with family and friends while they are here. Don’t forget that."
My friend had just been diagnosed with cancer, and her words made quite a deep impression on me and even now, they still play over in my head. So, I’ve decided to take the time off...off to bond with my nieces and nephews, off to play games with my Mom, off to laugh with my Dad, off to chat with my Grandma, off to share England photos and stories, off to stroll along the beach with my sister, off to catch up with my brothers and sister-in-laws, off to be harassed by my brother-in-law, off to enjoy the fireworks over the lake and maybe enjoy a real grilled hamburger again...
Yep, this is Melanie, and I’m signing off now for Michigan. WOOHOO!!
Have a blessed and safe Fourth of July, All!
Smile
I heard this Chris Rice song again recently. OK, the truth is that I listen to this song A LOT, but don’t tell Chris, he’ll get a big head. Once again, I was struck with these lyrics. I’m single, and like a lot of singles out there, I struggle with that status. Not all the time, mind you, but more often than I’d like. It is part of being human and having a sinful nature. GOD has blessed me in so many ways, and yet I still want that something more. I long for it, and I’m constantly sharing these thoughts with GOD.
The first time I heard this song, I started crying. Yes, Chris Rice has made me cry on more than one occasion, but it’s a good thing--honest. I heard the song as a love song, and I thought it was so sweet. Then suddenly, I got it. This wasn’t just another love song. This was a love song to GOD.
Here I am longing for a love of my own. I’m aching for that one thing that seems always just out of reach. I’m stuck, as it were. I’m frustrated. I’m struggling with the discontentment. Well, along comes this Chris Rice song about aching to be with THE ONE, the same ONE who should be the REAL love of my life, and these lyrics just bowled me over.
I'm a dreamer. My head is always off in the clouds somewhere. But instead of thinking and dreaming of THE ONE, I'm pining for another lover. I’m whining down here because I went to another party alone, or I just got invited to another bridal or baby shower. How selfish, am I? The GOD of the universe loves me, has given me the very best (HIS SON), provides for my every need, and desires my soul. HE wants me. HE wants me. I already have HIS love. I didn’t earn it. I can’t earn it, but there it is...the only love that will ever truly endure, and HE has given it to me as a gift.
So where is my desire to be with HIM?
Why don’t I ache to be in HIS presence?
Why don’t I ponder Heaven more?
Where is my passion for HIM?
Am I tossing aside the LOVER of my soul in hopes of something else? What am I thinking? That other love will never compare to HIS. It can’t compete.
OH LORD, teach me to make this song my daily prayer to YOU: “I just want to be with YOU. I just want this waiting to be over...” Yes, it would be nice to have a someone special here to smile for and with, but should that day not come, LORD, teach me how to wait for YOUR smile.
The first time I heard this song, I started crying. Yes, Chris Rice has made me cry on more than one occasion, but it’s a good thing--honest. I heard the song as a love song, and I thought it was so sweet. Then suddenly, I got it. This wasn’t just another love song. This was a love song to GOD.
Here I am longing for a love of my own. I’m aching for that one thing that seems always just out of reach. I’m stuck, as it were. I’m frustrated. I’m struggling with the discontentment. Well, along comes this Chris Rice song about aching to be with THE ONE, the same ONE who should be the REAL love of my life, and these lyrics just bowled me over.
I'm a dreamer. My head is always off in the clouds somewhere. But instead of thinking and dreaming of THE ONE, I'm pining for another lover. I’m whining down here because I went to another party alone, or I just got invited to another bridal or baby shower. How selfish, am I? The GOD of the universe loves me, has given me the very best (HIS SON), provides for my every need, and desires my soul. HE wants me. HE wants me. I already have HIS love. I didn’t earn it. I can’t earn it, but there it is...the only love that will ever truly endure, and HE has given it to me as a gift.
So where is my desire to be with HIM?
Why don’t I ache to be in HIS presence?
Why don’t I ponder Heaven more?
Where is my passion for HIM?
Am I tossing aside the LOVER of my soul in hopes of something else? What am I thinking? That other love will never compare to HIS. It can’t compete.
OH LORD, teach me to make this song my daily prayer to YOU: “I just want to be with YOU. I just want this waiting to be over...” Yes, it would be nice to have a someone special here to smile for and with, but should that day not come, LORD, teach me how to wait for YOUR smile.
Smile
by Chris Rice
How far are you, how close am I
I know your words are true and I don't feel them inside
Still I believe you'll never leave
So where are you now
You're all I have, You're all I know
Your breath is breathing in my soul
Still I am gasping, aching, asking
Where are you now
Cause I just wanna be with You
I just want this waiting to be over
I just want to be with You
And it helps to know the Day is getting closer
Every minute takes an hour
Every inch feels like a mile
Til I won't have to imagine
And I finally get to see You smile
My journey's here, but my heart is There
So I dream and wait, and keep the faith, while You prepare
Our destiny, til You come back for me
Oh, please make it soon!
Cause I just wanna be with You
I just want this waiting to be over
I just want to be with You
And it helps to know the Day is getting closer
Every minute takes an hour
Every inch feels like a mile
Til I won't have to imagine
And I finally get to see You smile
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