Playing Peekaboo

One of Rusty's favorite spots in our backyard is this little clump of grasses. He frequently carries one of his favorite balls out through the patio door and hides it in this spot. Then he acts like he forgot where he put it and starts frantically leaping and pawing at the grasses to retrieve it. When he gets bored with that game, he hunkers down in the matted down grass and plays peekaboo with me as he did this afternoon when it was sunny and warm out and he lured me away from my books and outside to play.

Two Recent Projects

Time to Clean Up?

Believe it or not, this is the current state of the top of my studio table and, yes, I was working on a project when I took this photo. Rusty is undaunted by my messes. He takes a flying leap into the center of the table and turns in circles until he plops down on top of the current layer of objects. Comfort doesn't seem to be an issue for him. He just wants to be right under my nose while I am working. But, seriously, this mess has GOT to be dealt with. I'm down to about a 5" x 7" workspace. Creating is just so much more fun than tidying up afterwards!

Third Sunday of Advent - JOY

Voice 1 - We have now reached the third week of Advent, when we light the JOY candle, which is pink. It is also called the ANGEL candle.

Voice 2 - We find angels everywhere we turn in the Christmas story:

An angel appears to Zechariah, the priest, to foretell the birth of his son, John, who will prepare people for the coming of the Messiah.

An angel tells Mary that she will bear the Messiah.

An angel reassures Joseph, warns the wise men, and urges the Holy Family to flee from Bethlehem.

Voice 3 - Most dramatically, when the angel appeared to the shepherds and proclaimed, “I bring you tidings of great joy,” he was backed up by a whole army of angels. No wonder the shepherds were terrified!

Voice 4 - What was this JOY? It was the presence of God among us, God in the person of the newborn baby who would grow up to be our savior.

Voice 1 - When Mary was pregnant with Jesus, she went to visit her cousin, Elizabeth, who was also pregnant. When Mary drew near, the baby in Elizabeth’s womb leaped for joy when he recognized that Jesus was in his presence. Do our hearts leap for joy when we sense God’s presence in our lives?

Voice 2 - As we light the JOY candle, we want the words of the psalmist to be true for us as well. It is written: “You will fill me with joy in your presence.”

(Light candles one, two, and three –the pink candle)

Voice 3 - How do we experience this joy in our lives? Jesus gives us a clue in John’s gospel when he says: “If you obey my commands you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father’s commands and remain in His love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”

Voice 4 - Let us pray: Jesus, you are searching your followers for awakened souls who thrill to the joy of your presence. You provide the joy; our part is to glorify you by living close to you. May we be living tidings of great joy to those around us this Advent season, as we share the presence of Christ through our words and our actions. Amen

Second Sunday of Advent - FAITH

Voice 1 - Our second Advent candle is the FAITH candle. It is also called the Bethlehem candle, as it recalls God’s appointed place in which the promised Messiah would be born. God’s plan is unfolding as Mary and Joseph leave their home in Nazareth and make the long journey to Bethlehem.

Voice 2 - Our circle of light will grow brighter as we remember the words spoken about Bethlehem by the prophet Micah, 700 years before Jesus’ birth:
“Out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel,
whose origins are from old, from ancient days.”

Voice 3 – Mary and Joseph made the long, arduous journey to Bethlehem, because they were descendants of King David, whose hometown was Bethlehem. They were required to go there in person to be counted for the census. In God’s amazing providence, the end of Mary’s pregnancy coincided with the timing of the census. And so the prophecy was fulfilled that the Messiah would be born in Bethlehem.

Voice 4 – Believing that Jesus is the promised Messiah is the basis of our faith, and this is the truth: “without faith it is impossible to please God.”

Voice 1 –The Messiah himself descended from a long line of heroes of faith:
By faith Noah built an ark in the dessert where it had never rained, and
his family was saved from the flood.
By faith Abraham left his country, home, and family to follow God to a
new homeland.
By faith Moses led God’s people out of slavery in Egypt to the shores of the
Promised Land.

Voice 2 – Hundreds of years later, by faith, a young peasant girl named Mary believed the angel who told her: “You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High.” She was willing to suffer public humiliation, because she believed that “nothing is impossible with God.”

Voice 3 - As we light this Advent candle, let us remember the heroes of faith who have gone before us. May we also be heroes of faith, lighting the path for those who will come after us, so the Good News will be lived and proclaimed until Jesus comes again in glory.

(Light purple candles 1 and 2.)

Voice 4 – We have lit this candle to remind us that “faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”
LET US PRAY: Jesus, you are the author and perfecter of our faith. Shine your light into our hearts to illuminate the truth that is more real than anything we can see, or hear, or taste, or touch, or smell. Give us the heart to be faithful followers of the One who is always faithful. Amen.

Fresh squeezed lemonade in November

This morning while I was writing, I glanced out my bedroom window. There was our huge Meyer lemon tree, laden with yellow lemons in front of a cobalt blue sky. It nearly took my breath away. Alyssa came in and, looking out the window, said, "Oh, we need to make lemonade!" She (and Rusty) slipped out through the patio door in our bedroom. A few minutes later she came back in with about a dozen lemons gathered into her shirt. Here's our recipe for lemonade: Squeeze enough lemons to get 2 cups of juice. Put in a pitcher with 1 cup of sugar and 6 cups of water. Stir, chill and ENJOY. There is just something about fresh squeezed lemonade in November that seems WRONG somehow. However, if we don't pick them, they will end up floating in the pool, which would be infinitely worse. My grandmother taught me to squeeze the juice and freeze it in ice cube trays. When frozen, it can be stored in ziploc bags to be thawed later in a pitcher to make lemonade. I went out and purchased an ice cube tray - so I'm prepared!

First Sunday of Advent: Hope

The first Sunday of Advent is in a week - November 30th. I was asked to write the liturgy for the lighting of the candles on the Advent wreath. Here is what I wrote about HOPE. This is the short version - I had to cut it down by about half. As always, I was way too wordy. Imagine that!:

First Sunday of Advent: HOPE

Voice 1 - On this first Sunday of Advent we remember the hope that we have in Jesus.

Voice 2 - Hope is a deep, unquenchable current flowing down through the centuries and into the days of our lives. It flows from its source – Jesus – who was before all time, is now, and will be forever the same. All things were made by him and for him, and in him all things hold together.

Voice 3 - This hope is what enables us to plant our feet on the floor each morning. It is the song that we follow through the long dark night.; the porch light that beckons our footsteps homeward through the forest. It is the light that shimmers just out of sight at the periphery of our vision. Its sweet fragrance seeps in under the tightly locked doors of our hearts.

Voice 4 - If we hope in ourselves, our failures discourage us. If we hope in others, they may unwittingly or intentionally fail us. Material things may all too easily be lost, stolen or destroyed. Our jobs may end or change in spite of our best efforts. Our financial investments may diminish when markets fall.

Voice 1 - Our hope in Jesus, however, does not disappoint. In the days of the kings of Israel, the prophets foretold the coming of a king greater than David, who would reign forever in righteousness and peace. In the time of the exile, the prophets foretold the coming of a deliverer who would save his people from their sins – the Messiah. The words of the prophets were cherished with hope through 400 years of silence. The heartbeat of hope in the promised Messiah pulsed on until it took up residence in the breast of a baby asleep in a manger in Bethlehem.

Voice 2 - And so we light this candle in remembrance of Jesus’ first coming as a baby to redeem us. But the story doesn’t end there, for he also promised to return as the King of Kings.

(Light the candle)

Voice 3 - During these shortest days of the year, as darkness falls and shadows lengthen, we have lit this candle of hope as a reminder that we are watching and waiting this Advent season for Jesus’ return. With the psalmist we cry, “Be strong and take heart all you who hope in the Lord.” And with the prophet Micah we declare: “But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior.”

Voice 4 - LET US PRAY: God of all hope – thank you for awakening hope through the words of your prophets, for faithfully fulfilling our hope by sending the baby who came to save us, and for allowing the hope to live on as we await his return this Advent. Amen.

Being Thrifty

I decided to make some cards using only the scraps I had left over on my work table after some recent projects (except for the base cardstock). I had fun figuring out how to make do.

My Muse

Here's the card I was working on when Rusty distracted me by walking by on the fence. It is a combination of two techniques: using masques and embossing a design on a clear acrylic tag.

"Let me in!"

Usually when I work in my studio, Rusty takes up his position right in the middle of whatever I'm working on. Today, however, he was outside. He walked the fence until he spied me at work. I took this photo of him, through the window, as he was looking in the window of my studio at Alyssa, who was working on the computer across the table from me as I worked on a project. Once he figured out we were not going to open the window and let him in, he continued his circumnavigation of our yard from the lofty vantage point the fence affords.

Embossed tags

I made a wonderful discovery. Clear acrylic tags work beautifully in Cuttlebug embossing folders. I embossed the tag, then layered it over the apple green checked paper cut to the same size and shape. So many possibilities!

Having Pinecrest to ourselves

My brother, Tom, and I rendezvoused at the family cabin last Sunday through Tuesday. Tom had two days off from school and I had several projects that I knew would benefit by uninterrupted time. I have always loved being at Pinecrest after the summer crowds have ebbed away, back down the mountain. A fresh layer of pine needles lies damp and untrodden on the road in front of our cabin. There is even a touch of snow. As we walked through the deserted campgrounds on our way to the store for coffee and filters, I recalled the strumming guitars, barking dogs, laughing children, crackling campfires, haze of smoke, fragrance of meat grilling, gaggles of kids on bicycles, beach towels on ropes strung between trees, and genial companionship around picnic tables of just weeks before, now swallowed up by the peaceful hush of this early evening dusk. We followed the route, made familiar by a lifetime of such walks, to the general store. In the summertime, the parking lot would have been packed with big trucks, SUV's, and mini-vans. Children with dripping ice cream cones would be perched on the side of the covered porch watching people being pulled by big dogs on leash and tanned teens in bikinis and flip flops checking out what movie would be playing that night at the outdoor amphitheater. There would be a line at The Serene Bean - the scent of espresso wafting along the porch. The doors to the general store would be slapping open and shut with frequent traffic. This evening it was just the two of us and the very nice lady with a miserable cold behind the counter at the store. They were out of the size of coffee filters we needed, so she graciously offered us a few from the store's espresso machine to go with our Sonora Roasting Company French Roast. From there we circled back along the lake front. The swimming buoys had been stored away. The waterline had receded to reveal islands of boulders hidden June through August. The surface of the lake was still, untroubled by the thrum and churning of motor boats. A few fishermen lingered hopefully along the shore as gulls soared by overhead. We turned away from the lake up the hill toward the cabin where we added another log to the wood stove, brewed a fresh cup of coffee, and settled down in companionable silence to read. Perfect peace.

Fall color after all!

This is God's gracious gift to my homesick heart - an explosion of brilliant fall color just outside our patio door. Our wind chimes, tuned to the key of C, hang from the eaves right into the embrace of the maple's branches. When the wind blows, the chimes sound and the leaves dance together with the music.

You're never too old to play with face paint!

Alyssa dressed up as a fairy for Halloween trick-or-treating, complete with sparkly purple wings. It's amazing what you can accomplish with a little eyeshadow and eyeliner when you are feeling creative!

Franken-kitty

Halloween 2008. We only had five trick-or-treaters. So disappointing. The first set was a trio of teenaged “dice.” The three girls were dressed all in black and each was sporting a big white box with black dots – very clever. Randy was so excited that someone had finally rung our doorbell, that he threw a huge handful of candy in each of their bags. As they walked away, I heard on of the girls exclaim, “That was awesome!”

We went back to our reading. Rusty was curled up in my lap and I was scratching his head when I discovered that he had a HUGE abscess behind his left ear. So, first thing Saturday morning, we took him to the vet. Dr. Chan said it looked like he had been bitten all the way through the cartilage of his ear, and as she flicked off the scab we could see that it was, indeed, filled with pus. Totally gross and disgusting. Sorry. We left him to her ministrations and wandered through the farmer’s market just down the street and relaxed with our purchases at Tully’s Coffee.

When we picked him up an hour later, he had been transformed into Franken-kitty, just one day too late for Halloween. She had put two drains through his ear. We were instructed to wiggle them three times a day, to keep them from scabbing over. We were to apply a hot wet compress to his ear for five minutes three times a day. Right . . . about that – Rusty doesn’t like water any more than the average cat. We also had the joy of shooting pink Amoxicillin down his throat twice a day. Thanks to my friend Peg, I know the secret to giving a cat medicine. Grab him by the scruff of his neck and lift him up so his front paws are off the ground and he can’t resist. It’s a miracle!

Anyway, you’re probably wondering why I am sharing this. It’s because of a comment Randy made while trying to hold yet another hot, wet compress to the cat while holding him in a hammer lock. He said it’s like hurts and unforgiveness in our life. If we don’t take off the scab, so the poison can drain out, it just continues to fester and grow until it threatens to explode, or it spreads into our blood and sickens the rest of our body, soul and spirit – as the infection had caused Rusty to become feverish and lethargic. The cleansing process was not pleasant for Rusty. He hated it, and fought it to the best of his ability. But as of Thursday, the drains have been removed and he is back to his normal bouncy self, with just a little missing hair and a few scabs to show for his ordeal.

You can see from these photos that Rusty spent much of his “convalescence” supervising my work in my studio. Now, in addition to pushing my mess out of my way as I continue to work, I have to periodically remove the cat from what I’m working on as well. And I’ve learned in a hurry to never leave open bottles of any kind of liquid unattended.

Any excuse to play with my art stuff!

Alyssa is in the school play, Shakespeare for Dummies. We saw it last night and it was delightful, but that's not what I want to write about. The cast is exchanging "secret pal" gifts for each of the three nights they are performing. So, today after school, Alyssa and I went to the mall so she could get her "pal" a gift. She got two shades of purple nail polish at Hot Topic. About 1/2 hour before she had to leave for tonight's performance she asked me if we had a small gift box. I said, "No, but if you give me a few minutes I can make you are really cool triangle box." She humored me and I went to work. I found the directions for this box on www.splitcoaststampers.com.
It's really quick and easy to do. All you need is a 5 x 10 inch piece of cardstock. I have been looking for DAYS for the Heidi Swapp masks that I KNEW I had, because I saw Tim Holtz' mask tutorial on his blog (www.timholtz.typepad.com) and wanted to try out the technique. I hadn't been able to find the masks anywhere until TODAY. When I opened up the stamp drawer to get out my Memory Box flourish stamps, I FOUND THEM. So, I used the damask mask on this little purple box. After using the foam applicator tool to apply the ink over the mask. I inked a word background stamp with the same ink and stamped right over the top of the mask. I then removed the mask and did the rest of the stamping. What a fun little box to put a small gift in. With the ribbon on the top, it could also be hung on a Christmas tree with a small gift inside. We are going to make them at our church's Family Advent Celebration coming up soon.

Saturday Soccer

Because I am both a native Californian and someone who survived the brutal winter in Iowa last year, I think I can get away with poking some fun at Californians when it comes to weather and soccer. Randy has been a soccer official at all levels from the little tykes in recreational leagues through the college level ever since Emily was in first grade (she’s now 21). The rule in Iowa is “we play in the rain, unless there is thunder and lightning.”

Randy has a rain shirt to wear under his official’s uniform and always carries an extra pair of socks, expecting to get soaked, so he can put on dry socks between games. I have used a sharp knife to scrape mud out of the grooves of three pairs of soccer shoes (since Ian and Emily both played) for as many years as I can remember. The rule was: strip in the laundry room after an especially mud-wallowing game. In Emily’s opinion, there was nothing more fun than playing in the mud. In fact, I can remember one miserable fall soccer game in Waverly, Iowa. I sat in my chair on the sidelines wrapped in a heavy blanket, covered by a rain poncho and holding a stadium umbrella, as the rain poured off the sides of the umbrella like a waterfall. There was no thunder or lightning, so the game was “on.” We all had to go the nearby McDonald’s afterwards to thaw out with hot chocolate.

As of Thursday night, we are having our first rain here in California since we moved here in July – no wind, no thunderstorm activity – just gentle rain. Randy received an email this morning that all soccer fields in Dublin are closed due to rain. Really? Wow! If that were the standard in Iowa, they would seldom be able to play. Think of all the great mud these poor California kids are missing out on.

Alyssa After School

I just picked up Alyssa from play practice.  She was in the kitchen looking for something to eat.  Isn't she cute?  It's hard to figure out how to dress in this weather.  It's 46 degrees when she leaves for school and 80 degrees at noon.  She has to walk outdoors in between all her classes.  Today she chose fashion over comfort.

Prayer Box

My first project in my new studio was painting/stamping this wooden box to hold the prayer requests at our Friday morning women's Bible study.  I got the box at Michael's for $3.99.  I watered down some white acrylic paint (Neopaque) and rubbed it onto the box with a wadded up piece of paper towel.  I applied it generously and then rubbed off the excess, in the direction of the wood grain, to give it a whitewashed look.  The floral stamps used are from Rubber Stamp Tapestry.  I applied them with pigment ink, for permanency.  I used a stipple brush to apply the wisteria color (the same ink used to stamp the swirl background) to the lid and the green color around the base.  I used a variety of brands of ink: mostly Ranger Adirondak Pigment Ink and  Color Box Fluid Chalk Ink.  This was a fun, quick, easy project.  Maybe a gift idea for Christmas?  I know I'm going to be trying to make more of my gifts this year to save money.

My New Studio in California

Here's my studio!  It's a great place to play!  Everything is at my fingertips, although I need to finish labeling the drawers so I can actually find things without actually having to open each drawer.  It's small enough that I have to clean up my messes as I make them (totally not my style), but it's a good discipline. What a joy to be able to walk down the hall, first thing in the morning to dabble in a project in process, or do work into the wee hours of the night knowing my loved ones are snoozing just down the hall.  Usually I can count on Rusty to be sprawled out on my table top right in the middle of what I'm working on - keeping me company.  You are welcome to come "play" here any time you want!  I miss all my art buddies from Iowa.

Rusty on the Red Couch (or Lessons About God)

This morning I was sitting here in the guest room typing a reply to an email.   I looked over my shoulder and saw our cat, Rusty, curled up asleep on the red couch next to me. I hadn’t seen him silently enter the room, but there he was – my shadow. He seems to have an “antenna” tuned in to me. He often looks like he is sound asleep, but if I stand up to leave the room, he jumps down from his current “perch” and pads along behind me.

He jumps on the counter to supervise me while I wash dishes, climbing into the sink for a drink out of the faucet. He sprawls right in the middle of the mess in my studio while I am creating something. Last week while I was making a book for Emily’s birthday, he reduced me to giggles. There he was all curled up in the middle of a huge assortment of yarn – all colors, textures, and thicknesses. What kind of self-respecting cat is content to sleep in the presence of so much yarn? He just wanted to be with me.

If I go out in the backyard to eat my breakfast, he curls up in the shade at my feet. If I am getting ready for the day, he stands on the counter quizzically watching me put on makeup. If I am reading in bed, he is curled up on the comforter wadded up down by my feet. He is always THERE!

God tapped me on the shoulder this morning when I turned and saw Rusty on the red couch. He said, “You don’t always hear me, or see me, but I’m always here. I’m HERE. You are never alone.”

Rusty will meow loudly when he is in distress, but the sound he makes most often is a rolled chirping with a question mark at the end. When I have left a room, a few minutes later I can hear Rusty padding down the hallway “chirping” out the question, “Where did you go?” God is like that. He seeks us out. If we have wandered away, He comes looking for us.

There are still other ways He reveals himself through my feisty orange and white cat. Often, while in the middle of working on a project, Rusty decides it’s time for me to play with him. This usually involves throwing one of his jingly balls so he can play fetch (he chases the ball, picks it up in his teeth while meowing at the same time, and brings it to me where he drops it at my feet so I can throw it again). Sometimes it means getting out his purple leash and twirling it so he can leap up to grab it or chase after it. When he is in one of those moods, he really doesn’t care if I am in the middle of some “important” task. He wants me to pay attention to him, and he will not leave me alone until I stop what I am doing and play with him. If I persist in ignoring him, he jumps onto a nearby surface and looks for something, anything, to push off onto the floor. I’ve grabbed glasses full of water, precious figurines, cell phones, and cameras just in the nick of time on more than one occasion. Although God is patient, there are times when He wants me to pay attention to Him. He finds ways to distract me from what I am doing what seems so important to me at the time, because He wants me to just spend time with Him.

Sometimes Rusty makes me laugh out loud. He jumps straight up in the air about three feet and then tears through the house. He bats his little ball around all over the back patio until he finally knocks it into the pool. Then he leans precariously over the edge of the pool so all you can see are his back haunches and tail, to fish the ball out with his extended claws. He launches himself at the top of his favorite rust-colored rocking chair, setting it swinging and then leaps from the top of it, nearly knocking it over. He climbs to the top of the fridge and bats as me as I walk by. God startles me back into the present like this sometimes, too. He wakes me up with a song about his glory playing in my head. He startles me with a spectacular sunset. He prods me into doing something I never thought I’d have the courage to do. He encourages me with an unexpected email from a friend. He presses his fingerprints into my days so I can see them later when the angle of the sun is just right, or when I stop long enough to notice.

When I returned from swimming today at noon, I opened the front door and Rusty was sitting there on the dining room carpet looking at me. From the way he stood, yawned and stretched, it was apparent that he had planted himself there when we went out the front door and was waiting for our return. He serves as a reminder that God, too, waits patiently for me to return to him, when I have been off on one of my tangents.

I headed into the bathroom to take a shower. I put the sage colored bathmat on the floor and pulled the shower curtain closed. Every time I take a shower – every single time – I pull back the shower curtain to grab my towel and find Rusty sitting there looking at me. I never feel embarrassed to be naked in front of him – it just warms my heart that he has come looking for me. Unlike Adam and Eve in the garden when God came looking for them after they had sinned, I do not have to feel ashamed about being naked in front of God, either. He knows me inside and out and He loves me anyway. I don’t have to cower in front of him, or try to hide my glaring flaws, because Jesus has clothed me with his righteousness. Now, that is freedom!

On occasion, Rusty will disappear for a while, out exploring the neighborhood and charming the neighbors (who are all fattening him up!). His absence awakens my curiosity and I go looking for him to see what he is up to. God also draws me out of myself and bids me to come out into the world to see what he is up to.

One thing cats do better than any other creature, is sleep. There is no better picture of utter contentment and rest than a cat curled up in a cozy patch of sunlight. God calls me, too, to rest, to stop my frantic pace and just “be.” He gently reminds me that sometimes the most spiritual thing I can do is take a nap.

Today I am thankful for my furry friend on the red couch. He not only delights my heart but also points my heart toward the One who delights in me. What a gift!

First Day of School - Tuesday, August 26, 2008

I felt like I was taking Alyssa to kindergarten all over again, rather than dropping her off for the first day of her Junior year in high school. I wanted to go with her to protect her and to ease her way, to be there if things didn't go smoothly. But, of course, that was impossible - she would have been horrified at even the thought! Instead, I dropped her off at a street corner close to the school, since traffic was backed up bumper to bumper way past the intersection I was trying to turn into, and watched her walk down the sidewalk, while my heart squeezed and my eyes brimmed with tears. Up to now, she had attended the 240 student high school in our tiny town in Iowa. This year she is attending a school with 2,400 students and she doesn't know a soul. As I crept slowly in front of the school in the congested traffic, I saw that the school grounds were teeming with hordes of students (700 more than the entire town of Reinbeck!). I glimpsed Alyssa, chin up and shoulders back, alone, as she entered the sea of students and was lost to my view. I was awed by her courage in the face of her fear. "Okay, Lord," I prayed, "You have promised that those who know you will trust in your name because you have never forsaken those who seek you. Watch over my baby today. I'm so grateful that You can walk with her where I cannot go."

She survived . . . even though they assigned her to the wrong chorus class and she had to spend 45 minutes in the office having her schedule rearranged . . . even though one class location printed on her schedule was incorrect and no one seemed to know where the class was meeting . . . even though she sat alone at lunch and only ate two bites of her sandwich and said she felt like she was on the verge of tears all day long due to stress. In spite of that, she took the initiative to go the the career counselor after school to inquire about lifeguarding jobs, and to find out the requirement for volunteer hours and the email address of the basketball coach to offer to be a team manager. It was a hard day, and she came home exhausted, but I think she's going to be okay. Now I can breathe . . . even as I continue to pray.

We made it!

After two months of sorting, packing, and saying good-bye, we finally hit the road on Sunday, June 29, at 4:40 p.m. Alyssa and I were traveling in our little Kia Spectra with our two very unhappy cats, Moses and Rusty. We had an unbelievable amount of stuff to cram into the car with us and it looked like an impossible job. Delayne Hopkins and Sue Togersen took on the challenge,however, and we managed to get almost all of it in, using every available inch of space. There was just enough room for the two cat carriers to be wedged in by each of the two rear passenger doors.

The "week of movers" was, indeed a challenge. The packers came on Monday and Tuesday. By Monday evening they had packed everything it might have been nice to have access to (like towels, sheets, pillows, dishes) and left all the non-essential stuff to be packed the next day. Alyssa had the foresight to set aside a pillow. I was not so lucky, but a wadded up bathrobe served the purpose.

On Tuesday I asked them if they thought they'd get it all done that day and they assured me that they would. Well, by the end of the day, there was a LOT left to pack - all of the garage and many breakable items from the living room and dining room. The head of the crew said the estimator was way off on the number of dish packs needed (he had called for 13, they brought 20 and ran out) as well as the boxes for artwork (he had called for one carton. They used four and ran out). We also received a call from the lady at North American coordinating our move. She said they had not found a driver yet for our load, so they would not be loading on Wednesday, as scheduled.

No packers came on Wednesday (they had been assigned to another job). A call to the moving company determined that they'd be coming to pack after lunch on Thursday (still no driver assigned to the load). The packers finally arrived about 5 p.m. on Thursday and finished packing by 8 p.m. In conversations with the moving company, we discovered that our ONLY option was to have the local company come and load all our stuff on Friday. Then they would take it to a warehouse, unload it, and store it until a driver is found. I was not happy about everything being moved twice - more opportunity for things to get damaged or lost - but it was the only option they offered us.

So, two guys and a huge North American semi arrived at 9:30 Friday morning. As the day went on they kept calling in reinforcements, until they finally had a team of 6 guys working. They got the last of it loaded about 7:30 p.m. right before a huge rainstorm passed through town.

This was a sad day for our family. Randy, who had taken our dog, Annie, with him to California on June 15, got a call from the pet sitter that she was not able to stand that morning. He took her to a vet, where it was determined that her kidneys were shutting down and she was dehydrated. She could not stand up at all and one of her legs was rigid. She was no longer wagging her tail. He made the difficult decision to have her put to sleep. She was 16 and had been part of our family for most of Alyssa's life. She was the inspiration for many newsletter articles Randy and I have written over the years. She will be sorely missed.

It is now July 4th, and still no driver has been assigned to our load. Once they find a driver, it will take them five days to get here. I have since been hearing horror stories about people waiting three weeks for their stuff to be delivered. So, we are preparing ourselves for camping out in our new home for a long time. We have plenty of cleaning supplies, toiletries, and candles (the things the packers wouldn't pack), but not much else. Alyssa flies to Minnesota to go to camp in northern Wisconsin next weekend. If our load doesn't arrive, we'll be borrowing a sleeping back and buying some inexpensive "camp" clothes for her to take, since all those things are still in Iowa sitting in a warehouse in Iowa City.

Compared to the week of packers and movers, the travel days were blessed in every way. The cats were excellent travelers. We never heard a peep out of Moses, and Rusty only "talked" occasionally to make his presence known. The weather was spectacular - clear and sunny the entire way. We easily found motels who would accept pets, and there was very little traffic on the interstate, aside from semi's. The cats tolerated two 12+ hours of driving, so we got all the way to Reno, Nevada on Tuesday night. That left an easy three hour drive on Wednesday.

It's nice to be all together in one place. We aren't really "living" in our house yet, as it is empty, but we spend time there everyday so the cats don't feel abandoned. We miss our friends and our home in Reinbeck terribly, but are ready to dig in and get settled in this new place to which God has called us.

More Liquid Sunshine!

We have always had a deal with our kids during their teen years. We won't sit up impatiently drumming our fingertips on the table waiting for them to get home at night as long as they wake us up when they do come in. Sometimes Alyssa forgets (she's the last one left at home), so I invariably wake with a start at a truly ungodly hour wondering if she's still out. Then I have to haul myself out of bed in the dark and walk into her room to see if there's a breathing lump under the red down comforter. (Their usually is.)

Last night she had been down the street at Kassie's, no doubt either watching movies or sitting around the bonfire, which seems to be the typical modus operandi for this crew of teenagers. She poked her head into our room at 2 a.m. to let us know she was safely home. Perfect timing. It meant I was then awake for the crash of thunder loud enough to wake the dead that rocked the house, followed by a deluge worthy of Noah's ark. Enough rain, already! Roads are closed due to flooding all over the state. Farmers have been kept out of their fields past the critical dates for planting, and fields that WERE planted have seedlings that will likely rot. Another tornado touched down south of Marshalltown destroying more homes. Turbulent weather abounds, compounding the heartache inaugurated during a few violent minutes on May 25th just twenty miles north of us in New Hartford, Parkersburg, Dunkerton, and Hazelton.

When I rolled down my driveway at 5:30 a.m. (it was still pretty dark, due to the brooding rain clouds), I saw glowing lights in the hosta border. Fireflies! My heart lifted at the cheery sight. Everyone was a little late to the Target Fit exercise class today. Sheila said she hadn't slept all night because she was afraid of the storm (a little post traumatic stress). Steve hadn't slept because he kept feeling like he had something to do, but he didn't since school let out for the summer yesterday (he's a junior high teacher). I hadn't slept because my five page "to do before we move" list kept scrolling through my mind as I listened to the rain lashing the window by my pillow. Everything looms much larger than life in the middle of the night when there's not a whole lot you can do about any of it anyway.

So, I went to work out, then went to coffee at the church, and now I am going to continue my assault on the basement. I tried to call and make an appointment to have the carpets cleaned, but there have been so many flooded basements this spring that they are booked up until July 11th! I guess I'll be renting a machine and working on it myself. One more thing to add to the list. But I keep reminding myself how blessed I am. I still have a carpet to clean. I still have stuff to sort. Now I better get to it!

God in the Little Things

Yesterday was our customary "Panera Bread Lunch Day." The Kia needed an oil change, so we dropped it off at the car dealership and hitched a ride to Panera (since it was POURING rain). When we picked the car up after lunch we were told that we'd need a couple new tires soon (really? The car only has 20,000 miles on it, for heaven's sake!). Randy mentioned that he wanted to get a "real" tire for the spare to replace the "donut" variety that came with the car. Since Alyssa and I will be driving across the country at the end of June with two cats and a dog (prayers, please), he wants us to have a good spare in case we get stranded with a flat tire in the Rockies or the middle of the Bonneville Salt Flats.

Today I drove up to Kohl's in Cedar Falls, following my morning women's Bible study. Randy needed some towels for a special project he's doing for the church he will begin serving in California in exactly two weeks. I embraced the opportunity to dilly dally and try on some summer shirts and basically malinger (yes, this is basement-avoidance behavior). By the time I checked out it was past time for lunch, so I decided to stop at the Subway on University Avenue before getting on the highway and heading home. As I drove west on University, a bad sound started under the front of the car. I pulled into the Subway parking lot and confirmed that my right front tire was totally flat. This is the Subway RIGHT NEXT DOOR to Smitty's Tire and Appliance. Imagine that!

While I enjoyed a leisurely lunch at Subway, a nice young man named Jacob, walked over to Subway with a portable pump with which he inflated my tire long enough to drive it next door to Smitty's. I continued to enjoy a relaxing lunch while they replaced the irreparable front tire and mounted a new tire on the spare wheel in the trunk.

It could not have been handier unless I had actually had the flat tire in the Smitty's parking lot! God's grace and timing amaze me sometimes.

Now, about that trip across the country. We have a Kia Spectra, a car on the smallish side with not much room in the back seat. We will have two medium-sized cat carriers housing two very unhappy cats, and a gimpy (not small) dog on the back seat. That should about consume all the available space. The vet said a couple times/day we should let the cats out to eat and drink and use a cat box. Picture this. Alyssa and I will take up the front two seats, the animals the entire back seat area. Somehow we are supposed to find room for a cat box and food and water bowls which the cats are supposed to take advantage of while we let them "roam" around the car. First of all, I'm pretty sure once they are freed from their cat carriers (in which they have ONLY ridden to the vet's office and back) it will be no small feat to get them back INTO them again. About the only floor space big enough for a cat box will be under Alyssa's feet in the front passenger's seat. So, here's how I picture the scene. I will turn around and get on my knees to liberate the cats from their carriers. Then Alyssa will put her feet in my lap, so the cats have room to do their business if they should so choose, while they are, more likely, frantically trying to make their escape or at least get far enough from me that I can't wrestle them back into their carriers. I should also mention that the dog HATES riding in the car and is so lame that it's nearly impossible to get her into the car since she can't hoist herself in and HATES to be picked up. Sounds like fun, don't you think? Any advice will be gratefully accepted.

Feeling Blessed

Wow, I am slow about getting these things posted. Life is rushing by too fast and I want to grab it by the coattails, dig in my heels and lean back to slow things down. Only two weeks until Randy rolls out of here in his little white pickup. I can't bear the thought. My heart is so full after this weekend.

Saturday a vanload of us drove up to Parkersburg to help with tornado cleanup. As we drove north on highway 14 the traffic slowed to a crawl as cars, vans, busses, trucks converged on Parkersburg from all directions filled with people ready to roll up their sleeves and work. The town is flattened (and I do mean flattened). If you want to see photos, go to: http://picasaweb.google.com/generaldcmills/ParkersburgTornado/photo#s5204893272879008178. It staggers the mind and heart. As we stood on the foundation of the house we were working at, we could look out across town as far as we could see, and thousands of people were there sorting the debris into piles: wood, metal, debris, combustibles. Heavy machinery would then move in and haul away the piles little by little. Red cross vans drove around offering free tetanus shots, water, and work gloves. The Iowa Pork Producers fed people all afternoon at the Methodist Church, which has become the relief staging area. It helped put things into perspective for me. My basement may be full of things to sort after we had four inches of water, but we have stuff to sort. The place where we were working was reduced to splintered wreckage in which barely anything recognizable remains. We found one silver spoon, a small pile of recipes, a couple small pieces of china. That's it. The rest is just gone.

Then Saturday night I was sitting with my feet up recuperating from the day of bending and throwing mangled wreckage in the sun and the wind when we got an invite to join the Draffens for their backyard barbecue. We sat outside and talked until dark, then they lit the bonfire and we continued talking while the flames were reduced to glowing coals and the smoke kept the pesky mosquitoes at bay.

Sunday morning was Randy's last time to serve communion to our church family here in Reinbeck. He wanted it to be extra special, so he decided Alyssa and I should join him and we could serve communion to each person individually. Alyssa held the plate of bread. I held the plate of cups, and Randy used anointing oil to bless each person. I about came unglued as all these dear faces stood in front of me and I realized I can call every single person by name. What a treasure! How difficult to leave them all behind in a few short weeks. I can't even think about it or it undoes me.

That afternoon the church threw a great party for our family, to which they also invited the community. It was an Open House from 2-5 p.m. Sherrie filled the place with gorgeous flowers from her yard. Marlys baked the famous Orange Marmalade cake from the Mitford series of novels. Rachael took pictures (you can see some on her blog. She also framed a photo of our family at Randy's graduation with a large mat around it for everyone to sign their name on. Sara sustained me with hugs and her wonderful smile. Dan and Tom kept everyone's cups filled with punch and coffee, Jean, Sherri, Kathy, Carol and many other ladies from the church kept the dessert table filled with mouthwatering delicacies. We felt very loved as people stopped by to give us their best wishes and their hugs.

Today found us in the church kitchen again serving the meal after Alan Hinders' funeral. Those ladies run that small kitchen like a well-oiled machine. It's a sight to behold. This time I got to help! It's always a wonderful time of fellowship, making sandwiches, drying dishes, refilling trays, and chatting all the while. It always reminds me of holiday meals when I was growing up when all the women would end up in the kitchen. Now I know why they enjoyed it so much! It's a perfect picture of hearts and hands working in harmony.

Randy got his D.Min!

Many thanks to Rachael, photoshop queen extraordinaire, for the tutorial on how to make a photo collage. You'd have to travel the world over to find someone more cheerful-hearted and generous in sharing her expertise. We had a fun time on Saturday morning with our computers side by side while her daughter, Waverly, wandered by to chat once in awhile and Stella (the cat) and Sarah (the dog) competed for petting and ear scratching.

Randy's graduation ceremony was at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Dubuque, Iowa (right across the street from the seminary) at 9:30 a.m. on May 10th. After five years of work, he finally has the diploma in his hands. So now he is the Reverend Doctor McGrady-Beach - quite a mouthful! I am so proud of him! All our children came home for the event, including the newlyweds (Ian and Jess). It was really bad timing for Ian, Jess, and Emily. Emily had to miss the last few classes before finals week to fly to Iowa on Friday and when she returned, she had a 6 page paper due and then finals. Ian and Jessica gave up five days of working at The Onion, including Mother's Day, which is a huge money-making day for waiters. When they returned to Spokane, they only had five days to clear out their apartment, write wedding thank you notes, and pack for their four month adventure in Alaska. It meant a lot to both Randy and me that they all came under those circumstances. It was one last chance for our family to be together here in the house we have called home for 14 years, before Alyssa, Randy and I move to California. Randy's mom and step-dad were here from Bend, Oregon, and his aunt and uncle were here from Ann Arbor, Michigan. We had 9 family members around the dining room table Saturday night for Randy's celebration dinner, which he had to miss due to getting called to the hospital emergency room. It was a sweet time, made more poignant by the fact that it the last time we'll all gather here together.

Spring at Last!

Daffodils along our driveway.

More Wedding Photos

The Newlyweds

Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Ian McGrady-Beach.

They were married on Sunday, April 27, 2008 at 4:00 in the afternoon in the chapel at Fort Wright Mukogawa Institute in Spokane, Washington.  It was a picture perfect simple, but elegant, wedding.  Jessica wore the dress both her grandmother and her mother had worn (with the sleeves removed).  Ian could not stop smiling.  My husband performed the ceremony.  Our two daughters read scripture.  Jessica's sister was her maid of honor.  It was a joyous family celebration in a beautiful place surrounded by the love and good wishes of their closest friends and family.  We are thanking God for the joy of welcoming this new daughter to our family.  I will post more pictures once I figure out how to get them sized properly.

Beauteous Spring

"Nothing is as beauteous as spring." (This if found on one of my rubber stamps that is packed away in the storage unit across the highway, so I can't credit the author.)

 

As our plane began its descent into the Des Moines airport on Tuesday evening, Alyssa looked out the window and exclaimed, "It's GREEN!"  In the twelve days we had been on the west coast the Iowa landscape was transformed from winter drabness to spring glory!  Words are inadequate to describe the deep emerald green velvet of the spring grass, broken only by freshly plowed fields.  The daffodils that border our driveway are just exploding into sunny blooms and the lilacs are budding, their promise of sweet fragrance perhaps a week away - just in time for all our family to arrive home for Randy's graduation.  That's one blessing of this year's protracted, intractable, frigid winter - things are blooming later, which turns out to be just in time for our family's final reunion in this home where they grew up.  I feel enveloped by grace.

"Grace and beauty are performed whether or not we sense them.  The least we can do is try to be there."  Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (1974)

This afternoon I sat in a church pew and was reduced to tears by the beauty of the music that poured out of the gifted finger tips of our sixteen-year-old friend, Katie, as she performed one breathtaking piece after another - Beethoven, Schubert, Ravel, and Rachmaninoff.  The notes rolled in thunderous waves and spritely laughter from the grand piano to shimmer and vibrate in the air around us.  I was smitten.  Her two darling three and five-year-old sisters sat in the pew directly in front of me.  They never even looked at Katie.  They were too busy whispering to their girl friends seated in the pew with them and drawing pictures on the cards left in the pew for that purpose.  It occurred to me that this was "old hat" for them.  They have listened to Katie playing the concert grand in her living room at home for hours and hours every day for as long as they have been alive.  They have become inured to the beauty by too much familiarity. It's part of the background "noise" of their daily lives.  It doesn't dazzle them, as it does me.

I thought about all the "grace and beauty" that are performed around me in this place every day.  As I live out my last spring in this place, at least for awhile, I want to notice all of it. I don't want to take any of it for granted.  

On my way home from church I slowed to car to a crawl to watch three young rabbits playing chase in a yard ahead of me.  They raced full bore in a single file line around the dirt-tickling "skirt" of a cedar tree.  They looped around it again, and once again, before launching themselves off the curb in front of me and streaking across the road and out of sight. 

Yesterday morning I stood at the window to our sun room for a long time and watched our geriatric, black dog and our adolescent, ginger and white tabby cat take a stroll around our yard together.  They are different species, different sizes, different ages, and different genders, but they are "best buds."  Annie,who is almost totally blind and deaf, stops for long sniffs.  Rusty rubs against her legs and twines himself in and out under her belly.  She moves on and he prances after her.  In fits and starts they survey their kingdom, never more than six inches apart.

In the evening the three of us, my ancient dog, my goofy cat and I, took a stroll first around our yard and then down the road behind our house.  The air, crisp with the scent of burning leaves, felt like more like autumn than almost-summer.  We walked through the dark under a canopy of sky dancing with stars.  We had the night all to ourselves while our neighbors were tucked away indoors.  A blast of rock music leaked through a door, open and then shut again.  The laughter of many voices emanated from a house where a party was in progress, as evidenced by the array of vehicles crowding their driveway.  Lights glowed through closed curtains.  We walked along the dark corridor, feeling just as solitary as if we were walking in the woods by our mountain cabin in the "off season."  Companionable, unhurried, content.  Beauty and grace abounded.  I was glad we had shown up to witness the performance.

"Feet up! Feet up! Feet up!"

The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.

Deuteronomy 33:27

Be still and know that I am God.  Psalm 46:10

Sometimes life gets complicated and seems to be moving too fast.  In those time, my sister-in-law reminded me in a phone conversation the other day, the thing to remember is:  "Feet up!  Feet up!  Feet up!"  This is the advice given to white water rafters in the event of falling out of the raft.  "Keep your feet up and pointed downstream!  Then let the river carry you."  When we are thrown suddenly into life's turbulent waters and the cold water snatches out breath away, we need to "keep our feet up" and lean back into Jesus, letting him carry us.  He is the Lord of the rapids who knows where the dangerous whirlpools, hidden boulders and safe channels lie, and "underneath are the everlasting arms."

This week I am taking care of a beautiful calico cat named Sadie.  When Sadie and I first met, I was on my hands and knees peeking under the bed where she was hiding.  She was backed as far away from me as she could get, safely out of reach, where she stared at me with feigned disinterest.  In fact, she was scared to death of this new stranger in her domain.  She is the quintessential shy kitty, who jumps and runs at any sudden sound or movement.  Over the years she has lost her fear of me.  Now, when I arrive to feed her, she is right there on the dining room carpet rolling on her back and begging me to pet her.  If someone else comes in with me, however, she immediately runs for cover.  She LOVES to be brushed, and has relaxed enough in my presence that she purrs and rubs against me.  However, if I make a move to pick her up, she thunders up the stairs and dives under the bed.  She knows me.  I think she likes me; but she doesn't fully trust me, even after several years of "wooing" her.

My cat Rusty is another story.  When he is fully rested, he is an irrepressible scallywag, wound for sound, and looking for trouble.  Fortunately (for him), his rapscallion ways amuse me, so he continues to roister through life with a wild abandon that delights me.  When his energy has been sufficiently run off, however, he stretches his paws as far up my leg as he can reach and leans on me, asking to be picked up.  If I don't respond immediately, he gently extends his claws.  If that fails, he begins to climb my leg like a tree, a truly annoying habit of which we are trying to break him.  Once hoisted into my arms his whole body vibrates with his inaudible purr and he begins to go limp.  Settling in deeper, he emits a heavy shuddering sigh and drifts off to sleep.  He trusts me completely.  I carry him with me as I go about my business and he sleeps on.  He is not afraid that I might drop him or get a sudden urge to push him away.  He expects me to carry him, while he is still.  If I attempt to put him down, he half opens his eyes to give me a reproachful look and tried to hang on.

This is the feline demonstration of the rafter's advice, "Feet up!  Feet up! Feet up!"  In life's turbulent waters, all we have to do is position ourselves in God's arms, letting him carry us through to safety.  Do we trust him to carry us?  Are we willing to do whatever it takes to lean back in his arms?  When we are thrown into the river, we need to focus on two things - getting our feet in the right place, and leaning back in the water rather than flailing around in desperation or fighting against it.  Perhaps this is what God meant when he said, "BE STILL and know that I am God."  It means blocking out other unnecessary distractions, keeping our priorities in order and trusting in the sovereignty of God, his love for us, and his power to save us.  Then, perhaps, we can relax enough to enjoy the ride, even though it wasn't the one we had planned on (safe and dry in the raft). 

Here is a sample of the place cards I am making for the head table at Ian and Jessica's wedding.  The flowers are made using "Bloomer" stamps from Coronado Island Designs.  I used Stardreams text weight paper to create the flowers.  The names will be written in italic using sepia gouache.  I have to make 108 flowers.  It took me two hours to complete the first 50, so I have more work ahead of me! 

Getting Lost

I used to think MY sense of direction was bad.  Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, I oriented myself in the world based on that topography.  The Bay was east.  The Pacific Ocean was (just about the only thing that was) west.  The coastal range rose up above all the urban sprawl, clearly signaling "west."  Then I moved to rural Iowa where, when the sun isn't shining, I sometimes forget what direction I'm driving, because all the roads in the country kind of look the same - straight pavement flanked by ditches with cornfields/soybean fields beyond, punctuated by the occasional farmstead.

Then Emily got her driver's license.  She found her way to Cedar Falls just fine, but when it came time for her to return home, I got a phone call.  "Mom? I'm at College Square Mall.  How do I get home?"  I started to give her directions, "Go west on University until the signal under the 58 overpass, then . . . "  "Wait!  don't tell me any more.  I'll get confused.  I'll call you when I get there and you can tell me where to go next."  And so it went.  I talked her home via cell phone one turn at a time.  Her directional sense has improved with experience; nevertheless I still razz her about it.

Along comes Alyssa with her recently acquired driver's license.  She made plans to drive to her boyfriend's home in Waverly to meet some of his friends while working on set construction for their school play. Like Emily, she made it there with no problem, thanks to MapQuest.  She left to return home about 5:30 p.m., which should have resulted in her rolling into our driveway about 6:10.  Instead, some time around six, Randy received a phone call from Alyssa.  "Yeah . . . so . . . I'm in Hampton?"  She had headed directly west out of Waverly, instead of due south as she should have done.  Randy replied, "Well, then, turn around and drive back in the direction you came from."

"I don't want to turn around!"  (I'm still not sure why, unless she did not have confidence in executing a 3-point turn on a two-lane highway.)

"Okay, then keep driving until you come to Interstate 35, head south to Interstate 20, go east to the Dike exit at T55 and head south to 175."

More time elapsed.  This time she called MY cell phone.  "Hi Mom!  You didn't tell me there are TWO Highway 20's!  I'm in Fort Dodge."  For those of you who don't know Iowa, Fort Dodge is quite a ways WEST of Interstate 35.  She had gotten off D20 going west instead of east.  She kept driving through tiny towns trying to find one whose name she recognized.  I am thankful that she finally arrived in Fort Dodge, where she was calling me from the gas station where she had stopped.

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Go to the truck and get the Iowa map out of the glove compartment."  A pause while she went to retrieve it . . . "Now, open it up and find Waterloo.  Look about one inch north of Waterloo and you will see Waverly, where you came from.  Now go about TEN inches to the left.  That is where you are!"

She giggled sheepishly.

I told her to ask someone how to get back to Interstate 20, to be sure she was heading EAST when she turned onto it, and to call me when she got to the Dike exit, which she did.  I assumed that would be the last I heard from her until she rolled into the driveway.

I assumed incorrectly.  The phone rang again.

"Okay, so I turned left at the wrong stop sign on T-55.  So, I decided to back around the corner, but I turned too sharp and backed right into the ditch.  Now I'm stuck in the snow."

"Okay, I'll call your dad and see if he can come help you."

After calling Randy, who was NOT happy, I called Alyssa back.  She said several people had already stopped to see if she was okay.  I told her that if anyone stopped and offered to pull her out of the ditch, to take them up on it.  Just as I said this, some guys pulled up in a pickup and offered to pull her out.  I told her to leave her cell phone open on the seat and to let them help (one of the beauties of living in rural America - I wasn't worried about her safety among strangers).  They had her out of the ditch in short order, and she was again on her way home. By the time she arrived home she had been traveling for over four hours!

I was proud and reassured by the manner in which she conducted herself during this adventure. She never lost her cool, she was not afraid to ask for help, she kept in touch with us by phone, and she could laugh at herself.  I hope she has gained a better "mental map" of north central Iowa, so there will not be a repeat performance.

It seems to me that there are some generalized spiritual life lessons to be learned here.  First and foremost, if you realize you are going in the wrong direction, stop immediately and turn around.  It can save you time, money, anxiety, and wear and tear.  Continuing in the wrong direction is not going to get you where you want to go.  Having a map in the glove compartment doesn't do you any good.  Take it out and look at it!  Don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it.  Keep in touch with those who care for you, even when you have to admit you've made a mistake.  

And, finally, there is much truth to the saying, "Blessed are we who can laugh at ourselves, for we shall never cease to be amused."

I left my spinning (cycling) class at 6:30 this morning when a glowing sliver of moon still hung in the eastern sky.  A horizontal layer of fog wafted between the ground and the silhouetted skyline of winter bare trees.  The fields were dusted with frost, and the silver mirrored surface of the standing water in the ditches reflected the roses and lavender that lit up the horizon.  Hot pink and purple striations of clouds backlit the scattered trees and farmsteads anticipating the arrival of the sun. 

As I drove through this pastoral landscape, reveling in the quiet renaissance of a new day, I listened to a report on NPR about the rebel uprising and unrest in Tibet and the violence being meted out to peaceful Tibetan monks.  I am mindful of the need to be actively grateful for this place in which I live, while at the same time in constant prayer for those whose peace is being ripped and torn by ugliness and violence.  My thoughts pause in reflection and intercession.  

My cat, Rusty, was eagerly awaiting me on the porch as I drove up.  Who knows what nightly adventures he could recount if only he spoke English! A tuft of tawny Persian fur belies at least one feline altercation. He now sits in a lacy circle of light on the back of the couch in the sun room.  Annie, my 16-year-old dog, is frisking like a puppy on the front lawn, and the frost has turned into a field of diamonds in the rising sun.  Let me never take it for granted - such beauty - my heart cannot contain it all.

Wedding Invitations for Ian & Jess

I have been living, eating, sleeping, and dreaming wedding stationary for the past three weeks and, as of today, they are IN THE MAIL!  The  wedding colors are lilac, dark brown, and cream. The paper used for the invitations was from The Paper Cut in Appleton, Wisconsin.  Paper colors were:  Kunzite Stardreams, Hera Stardreams, Echo (brown) Stardreams, Esse Espresso, and Cream Luster.  The swirl ribbon is from Creative Impressions.  The ink used for the stamping was Brilliance Pearlescent Lavender and Color Box Fluid Chalk Dark Brown. The stamps used were from the Fantastic Flourish clear set by Hero Arts. The invitation itself is the "V-Flap Formal Invite" die cut from The Paper Cut.  The printing was done by Karen's Print Rite in Waterloo in the darkest Pantone brown I could find.  The hand-lettering on the envelopes was done using a brown Gelly Roll pen.  The favors are made using an AccuCut die owned by my friend, Dena Rekow.  Isn't it the cutest thing ever?!  It will be filled with a small mesh bag containing Jelly Bellies in the colors of the wedding.  It's now less than seven weeks to the wedding and I still haven't shopped for a dress!  I would MUCH rather play with paper and ribbon than go through the humiliation of shopping for clothes, but I better get on with it soon . . . maybe next week, or after Easter . . .