Monday, December 24, 2012

Christmas Eve Morn'

A light snow fall keeps me company on the front porch this morning. 

I write this to be posted later when I'm back inside hooked up to the internet.  Oddly the deck thermometer said it was about 5 degrees but it doesn't seem so cold although my coffee does seem to cool quickly. Perhaps I should just have a coffee pot installed on the porch?  That makes me smile.

The neighbor's lights sparkle in the early morning darkness.Every inch of their yard is a tribute to the local hardware store goods.  A small part of me wonders if all the cheer outside the house hides sadness inside?  If they were to look across the way to my house and see there are no sparkly lights, no adorned tree, not one brightly wrapped gift what would they think? In a few days I will be unemployed and have time to finish unpacking and maybe I'll find the porch flag I used to fly in winter. A cheery snow man. 

When I glance back into the house I can see Sassy in the sitting room curled in her favorite rocker. I have decided to let her do what she wants and stop pestering her to eat and drink. When I'm her age I'd want to be let alone to do my own thing.  It will be soon.  I am mostly ready to let her go.

I think of my cousins in Nebraska and my aunt in Iowa this morning and the pain of a first Christmas without someone you love. I send peace to them in my prayers. There are no words to fill their emptiness. Only time.

Today is Christmas Eve day. A day I always enjoyed more than Christmas morning. A day of great anticipation, laughter, last minute wrappings, gatherings around the supper table before heading out to church services.  A day full of hope, of believing in dreams and the goodness in others.

I have almost let it pass me by. Enough wallowing in sorrow and fear.

There are dishes to be washed, laundry to fold, presents to gather and wrap and hugs to give to all those I love. 

And much to give thanks to God for...example:

When I was in Oklahoma I would dream of waking up Christmas Eve morning where I could head out to my porch armed with coffee and maybe a blanket as I had my morning talk with God. In my dream it was always snowing.

Perhaps there is a Santa after all.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

First snowfall

How much snow have we received so far as it continues to fall?

Enough to cover the porch and decks such that not even my hightop red wings are high enough to keep my socks dry...and giving me a great reason to stay put today.

I'd post pictures but just made coffee, put music on, have the cat in my lap and thinking "Let God decorate the earth today for the season...the tree can wait to be put up." 

Now can I reach my tote bag without disturbing the cat so I can read my book?  No?  Well, coffee, purring cat and watching the snow will do.

Off to be still and know God.


A picture from winter of 2003, I believe. Just squint, imagine snow falling, less sun and voila! Penny's home!

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Sassy and Uncle Vail

Sassy, while playful and eating again, continues to lose weight.  She is in the mid-stages of renal failure.  For 17 years old she is doing okay.  Nothing for renal failure but to keep her comfortable and happy. Maybe a few months.

Life goes on one sunrise/sunset at a time.

Last Thursday afternoon's post was probably a bit of a downer to read. That day my Uncle Vail laid down to take a nap on his couch.  He didn't wake-up.

We gathered in Nebraska to say our good-byes and celebrate the joy and sorrows of life with shared stories, songs, tears and oh so many needed hugs. Today, Uncle Vail's body will be tucked in next to his parents and sister Eunice in the family cemetary in Dumont, Iowa. Rest in peace, Uncle Vail.

Life goes on one sunrise/sunset at a time.

In my email this morning I received another round of rejections. Layoffs at the plant began on Friday and it was difficult for me to let my crew go.  Each person's reaction was a lesson in dealing with life in these hard times. My own layoff is imminent: tonight, tomorrow? 

When it happens I'll finish the unpacking, enjoy soup with a friend, talk about my Advent explorations over coffee with my pastor/friend, window shop and laugh with Aunt Val, locate the Christmas decorations and quilt gifts for friends as I plot out the next steps of living the dream. 

Life goes on one sunrise/sunset at a time.

For today I have a job to prepare for -- Sassafras the wonder cat is curled up between my arms and the keyboard purring away as we listen to the dryer tumbling, the coffee pot dripping and smell the bean soup simmering in the crock pot. Almost time for a quick nap before showering and heading to the plant.

Yep. Today is a good day.

Let's let tomorrow take care of itself as we move through life one sunrise/sunset at a time.



Thursday, November 29, 2012

Weebles

When you were a kid, did you ever have one of those punching bags that looked like a clown? Everytime you punched it down to the ground it would pop back up and sometimes punch you right back?  Or maybe you were the "weebles wobble but they don't fall down" generation.  I am not scientific enough to figure out the simple mechcanics of how the weebles and that clown keep bopping back up.

They just do.

When I lived in this house the first time, I put up a saying on the kitchen wall just next to the front door:  "Fall seven times, stand up eight."  It reminded me every time I left the house that no matter what happens "out there" I needed to get back up.

Then I left to follow a dream. 

When I moved back into the house I was pleasantly surprised to find the saying still next to the back door.  Like an old friend, waiting for me. 

Fall Seven Times.

Stand Up Eight.

Its not the number of times you fall, its the number of times you stand back up.

I think there is a missing component to this bit of philosophy: Keep Moving Forward.

Fall Seven Times, Stand Up Eight, Keep Moving Forward.

I wonder how I can add it to the wall?

After six months of "falling" its getting harder to stand-up..  

Monday, October 29, 2012

Echos

A blessing is a gift to others. My aunt told me the other day that I'm a blessing. I think that is the most wonderful thing to say to someone. That you are a gift.
 
A person doesn't set-out to be a blessing. There are no self-help courses outlining procedures to become one. No "Be a Blessing for Dummies" books.  
  
So, if it is true, how did it happen?
 
Why am I who I am, believe as I believe, seek out what I seek - dream what I dream?

  • The family tree is one of hardy stock.
  • My journey is littered with junctions of other people's paths.
  • From the lessons learned of those who have fallen, gotten back up and moved forward, I am the beneficiary. 
  • I am merely the outcome of a ripple.

In the most simple form of an answer, I am but an echo*.


*Because of you, J.S., I have been pondering Philippians 4:13.  Actually, the entire chapter is worth pondering. At least, that's my 2¢ worth.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

h o p e


Cold, snappy mornings. Burning piles of leaves. Gold-strewn pathways crunching under our feet. Sweaters and mittens. Fully harvested fields. Pumpkins, goblins and candy corn. 

So many reasons people love October. 

October has not always favored me. 

A few brief cases in point:

October '88 - Kansas truckstop. A stranger passing me kleenex. Banging the payphone handset against my chest. Frantic to remove her words echoing in my heart. "I'm dying sissy."

October '95 - Peeling out of the hospital parking lot to reach Sorin's bluff and catch my breath. My breasts still heaving from anger and fear as the wind bathes me in leaves ripped from the trees. My last October? Certainly the last one whole.   
  
October '02 - St. Joseph's ICU waiting room. 7 p.m. or 7 a.m.? I methodically turn the pages. Finite math systems. Spanish. Ethics. Marking time between visits to the room down the hall. Listening for his code blue. 

October '05 -  Trying to focus on my breathing by watching the late daylight shimmer on the leaves in the trees surrounding the path. A strange woman croons above my crumpled body. I hear the sirens or maybe its just my screams as something whispers "Breathe." 

October '08 - Nine hours of brutal LSAT questions. Barely registering my lower body has gone numb from the cold as I sit for hours on the stoop. Temporarily blinded by love on the path. Should I have chosen differently?

Some of my hardest trials came in October, yet, it is the month I love most.  

All because of a rock with etched letters that over the years have almost faded from sight.  I know they are there. 

But that is another story for another time.

For now, let us enjoy my 2¢ of October photos. 












        



...and photos of three people I would've enjoyed being with today, October 6, 2012. Any day, really. But today...most of all, today.


Ruth Jane Nelson Herron 04-12-1938 - December 1998; Gary Lee Oleson 09-17-1938-February 2010

Dorene C. Oleson Haydon May 1960-May 1995


Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Uffda! It's Mafdet!*


Dateline: Red Wing, MN 3:30 a.m. 9/12/2012
At around 3:30 Wednesday morning all hell broke loose at the Oleson Hacienda.
Penny was awakened by major yowling with her immediate though: BAT! But worried about the resident yowler, in one very smooth move that even wonder woman would've been proud of, Penny flipped on the lamp, smashed glasses to her bleary face and stood right up into her house shoes.
Penny quickly located Sassy, the great mouser, desperately trying to retrieve something under the dresser. Scanning the floor, Penny noticed the mouse trap next to the dresser placed there about 2 weeks ago:. GONE!
Being somewhat brilliant even at that early hour, Penny left the room to get the "mouse trap retrieving gear": gardening gloves and small trash bag. She moved the dresser very carefully and AH HAH! One dead rodent! Based on the positioning of the trapped rodent, it is unclear whether the Yowler chased the little bugger into the bedroom and it tripped over the trap or just heard the trap snap.

Quickly scooping up the trap before the resident mouser could snare it, Penny properly disposed of said rodent in the bag, reset the trap, moved the dresser back in place and then marched outside to the trash can. Yes, with with bed hair, skewed glasses and fully outfitted in sleepwear, lime green gardening gloves and white house shoes. 
Inside the house, the resdient mouse was extremely upset, tail swishing wickedly and constantly muttering as she paced from the bedroom, to the quilting room, to the kitchen and back.  Ever vigilant, she stalked the entire downstairs (upstairs is closed off to her), peering at any hidden trap spots, jumping onto furniture to better sniff around, finally settling down on the cutting table in the quilting room having decided it is the best perch for now. Like a mini-sphinx amongst the cutting boards, her eyes shifting slowly left to right, scanning the perimeter of the rooms, the now silent yowler kept watch as Penny settled back down for a new more hours of sleep.
Let this be a "Cat"-ionary tale to all stray rodents trying to infiltrate the Oleson Hacidena: BEWARE of resident Mouser aka "Yowler" and temptation in the form of peanut butter with one delicately placed cat nibble.
All is well.  I'll keep watch while you sleep.  G'night.


Sunday, September 9, 2012

Harvesting for the Hard-Headed



Lately it seems lists have taken over my life.  They are everywhere - on an "o" ring full of little index cards affixed to my fridge handle...post-it notes on my laptop, printer and even the bureau.  Things to do, places to check-out for possible jobs, cards to send, daily chores, bills needing to be paid. 

And then there are the lists in my head - a running tally of my bank account, the amount of gas in my car, a mental snapshot of my calendar. 

Finally, there is my secret list - the one I've been keeping in my heart.  A running list of paybacks.

"Living within your means": I was raised in a home where money was scarce.  When the car broke down or you didn't have money for gas, you walked or took the bus.  When the roof caved in, you moved out of that room and shut it off.  When there was no food, you went to school hungry. 

When there was money you used it to pay what you owed because it was more important to be out of debt and beholden to none than to have a washing machine, a dog, a senior class ring, a prom dress, food.  You worked hard for everything you had in life and if you found yourself with extra you gave it to someone who needed it.  More importantly, when you could get to church, you put something in the offering plate to thank God for, well, having something to put in the offering plate! 

As an adult I treated my friends to lunch, coffee or a movie. While shopping, if I saw something that reminded me of someone or found something they had told me they wanted and it was on sale, I'd buy it.   Happy because I could surprise them with a gift that meant something to them. On Sundays at church, I wrote a check and put it in the offering plate. Finally, because I had more than what I needed, I gave it away whether it was household items, food or money. 

I was a responsible grown-up with an income, giving back to the world.  To me, it was a good balanced life.  The right way of being a friend and a citizen.  It built character.  I was living a life where I would never be a burden or beholden to another soul.  

 The "coffers* jar": My A/C in my car broke the day I moved to Oklahoma.  For three years I drove in heat I had never felt before, even as a child in Texas.  This past winter my car window broke and because I was holding down several part-time jobs while going to school, I had some money to fix it.  It cost almost $400.  When the other window broke this spring, there was no extra money in the coffers.  So using superglue and strapping tape, I fixed the window.  Cost me under $2 and it has held firm ever since. 

Without a job in sight, money has been tight.  I pay my bills and if I want something else, I reach for my "coffers jar." A tall green vase I dump any "new found money" such as pay for an hour of research, change I have in my pockets, money I pick up off the ground or find in my car or even as I unpack (how do coins end-up in a packing box?).  

I use this money to treat my goddaughter to a lunch after a roadtrip to Fleet Farm, to pay for my lunch when visiting an old friend, to treat my dearest Aunt to a cup of coffee at a bookstore or for an unplanned moment of happiness like finding a rare treasure for 26¢ at a junk shop.

I clip coupons and plan any car trip carefully so as not to waste gas.  My utilities are bare bones and I feel pretty good about the fact that I have been eeking out my savings for a couple of months now.  But the money is dwindling fast and it is taking longer than I expected to find any work.  Even a housekeeping job at the local power plant has dried up for now.

The payback list:  A friend invites me to the movies and pays for my ticket.  It goes on the list.  A couple of friends and I check-out a winery and they buy me dinner and a flight of wine.  On the list.  I invite a friend to lunch who once again pays my bill. I add it to their column on the list.  Kids come over and do yardwork and because I cannot pay them, I add them to my list.  When the offering plate is handed to me and its not the first of the month where I have balanced my budget and determined what I had so I could put a check in the plate, well, I pass the plate on and add another debt to my secret list.


If I can barter, trade a service, it doesn't go on the list.  I make a quilt, a tote bag, help out at their house, give them fabric to make their own quilt or create a basket of table runners, placemats, aprons and napkins from my huge stash of cloth for the church to sell at our upcoming Heritage festival.  It keeps debts off my payback list.

A piece of the puzzle: In late August I realized I had enough in my "coffers jar" to have lunch with an old friend, buy a scoring card at a baseball game and write-out a check for our new church cookbook that holds my grandma's recipe for my birthday cake. I felt kinda proud of my frugality and self-sufficiency.

This past Friday was one of those amazingly great days full of potential for job seeking, connections with old friends, hope for a way to give back to the community using my legal skills as a volunteer and word that my best friend in law school had passed the Oklahoma Bar.  But I was restless, cranky and fitful. As one of my cousins would say, "I totally lost it."  And a couple of fistful of tissues later, I realized what was bothering me. No matter how hard I tried to stand my ground in being self-sufficient, paying my own way in life, I had become a burden. 

I knew what I had to do.  If I can't pay my way, I should spend my time hunkered down looking harder for a real job instead of socializing.  Research ways to further stretch whatever money I did have.  And that money in the "coffers jar"?  Well, I should put that away for an unexpected bill or use it to begin whittling away at that payback list or give it to someone in need.  Yes, I actually wrote that down on my plan: Give the coffers jar money to someone in need. 

All because I had kept this running tally in my heart.  A record of all the paid for lunches, coffees, movies, wine tastings, groceries and chores stored up into a huge debt. A huge debt, shadowing my soul.

Now I had a plan all mapped out late Friday evening. A strategy to no longer be a burden or beholden to my friends.  But when I woke up this morning, the heaviness was still there.  How could I ever payback this debt?

You know when you work a puzzle and keep looking for the right piece that fits?  How some pieces seem to fit but they just don't make that certain clicking sound the right piece makes when you slide it into place? 

After church today as I was exiting "my" pew, a fellow chuch member approached me and asked me three questions:  Do you like Tomatoes?  (Yes!)  Do you like green beans?  (even raw!)  What about brocolli?  (are you freaking kidding me?  Love it!).

I thought she was going to give me a recipe and began rummaging in my handbag for a pen and paper to write it down.  Instead, as I looked up she was holding a paper sack and said "I had a bunch of extra stuff I harvested from  my garden so I put them in this bag and brought it to church thinking I'd find someone who would take them.  When I saw you, I knew I was supposed to give it to you."


Click.


I am not a burden.  I am someone who needs something another person has extra of and wants to pass on.

I am not beholden.  And while I still have a hard time grappling with this, it seems I may be someone loved so much by friends and family that spending time with me is important to them.  This may mean a shared lunch, cup of coffee, baseball game or a gift of something they saw while out shopping and knew I needed.  Its not about spending money on me because I am poor, its about sharing their harvest with someone they love.

I am very poor. And very hard-headed.  And a little too big for my britches sometimes as my Aunt Marty would say.  More sense than common sense and sometimes God has to work hard at getting my attention about something.

But I am not a burden.  I am not beholden. 

With a simple gift of green beans, fresh brocolli and tomatoes in a paper sack, my secret payback list was abandoned.

Life really is a circle.  What goes around comes around. Give when you can and take what you need.  And a dozen other little sayings I know by heart but apparently have forgotten to apply to my own life.

Some lessons take time and courage for me.  Some lessons in courage are harder than others.  Accepting gifts, taking what I need, asking for help, learning to be on the receiving end of life...well, its new territory for me and another lesson to be learned.

So, I'm sorry if I have been avoiding your calls to get together.  I'm sorry if I told you in person, a letter or an email that your buying/giving/sharing with me made me your burden.  I'm sorry I have a little more pride than common sense sometimes.

So, if you want to have lunch sometime or buy me a cup of coffee when my "coffers jar" is bare, or give me a jar of pickles, some meat from your locker, leftovers from a shared meal or even split peanuts at a game. Okay.  I will thank you sincerely and I won't make one tally mark on some secret payback list I used to hold in my heart. 


I promise.


* coffer [ˈkɒfə]
n
1. a chest, esp for storing valuables
2. (usually plural) a store of money
Proverbs 2:10 "[F]or wisdom will come into your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul..."
It seems only fitting that you receive a treat for reading such a long blog posting.  Here is my favorite cake recipe.  I like it plain but you can dust it with confectioner's sugar.  My family usually serves this with a scoop of fruited Jello on the side.  Found on pg. 171 of the 2012 Urland Lutheran Church Cookbook and worth every penny...at least, that's my !

Grandma Oleson's Oatmeal Cake Recipe (aka "Penny's Birthday Cake")

1 1/2 c. boiling water
1 c. quick-cooking oats
1/2 c. Crisco, oleo or butter (depression-era cake!)
1 c. white sugar
1 c. brown sugar
2 eggs
Sift together: 
1 1/2 c. flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. salt

Pour the hot water over the oats and let stand 20 minutes. Cream shortening with the sugars.  Add the eggs, one at a time and beat well.  Add the oatmeal mixutre and mix well.  Add the dry ingredients.  Pour the batter into a greased and floured 9x9 inch pan (or any small square or round pan). Bake at 350 degrees F for about 30 minutes..  Test with a toothpick in the middle.  If its clean, its done.  Let cool before serving.  By the way, I rarely let it cool before serving...myself!

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Slaying Dragons

I grew-up in a house full of all sorts of dragons.  I am not afraid of dragons.  What I'm afraid of is Bats (and closets and basements and the dark but this is my  on bats.)

When I first moved into this house in 1996 there seemed to be a bat a week.  I had a good neighbor who came and caught a few.  Then he stopped.  So I enlisted my two dogs and Miss Marple (my cat back then) to form a team of bat chasers complete with a racket, a fishing net and a very wide and heavy broom.  Bat in the house?  We'd prop open a door, corral the darn thing into that part of the house and if need be, use a broom as a baseball bat and WHAM! right outta the park!  The dogs always came back into the house and Miss Marple was afraid of outside.  It wasn't pretty and would sometimes take hours but it worked.

By the time Dad came to live with me in this house there were fewer bats because of several visits by the pest people, some caulking, shoring up etc.  And if there was a bat? Well, I turned that chore over to Dad.  He was a great bat catcher, once using a hand towel to flick a bat out of mid-air and stun it so he could scoop it up and toss it outside.  Impressive.

Eventually, there were no more bats. I figured I had found all their entry spots and that was that for the bats.  The dogs  died of old age and one morning Miss Marple who had never ventured outside decided to leave home and never come back. And then Dad died.

Fast forward to 2012 and I am back in my home which has new siding, gutters, soffits -- the house is pretty shored up.   I don't have a tennis racket or a net (I passed up on a great FREE butterfly net the other week and regret it dearly).  And the broom?  Pretty wimpy. The only pet I have is Sassy, a great escape artist.  Let her even glimpse daylight and she is GONE!

At 12:30 this mornig I decided to stop quilting for the night, brush my teeth and get ready for bed.  As I left the downstairs half-bath I saw it.  Waist high right next to me.  Hanging on the window sheers.  A bat.  A HUGE bat.  Much bigger than the ones I had ever seen in this house in the old days. 

I called Drew for advice.  I couldn't picture what he was telling me.  I went to YouTube and watched a cajillion videos.  All along saying outloud "you are NOT scared of bats.  you are NOT scared of bats." Convincing no one,  I called sister who I knew would be up this time of morning.  She told me "You are a BIG DAWG!  You can do this!"  A great pep talk.  

I created a bat catching crate.  One cat crate door removed.  Put a plastic trash bag inside and taped the edges on the outer mouth of it.  Cut a piece of stiff cardboard bigger than the mouth of the cat crate.  Practiced my maneuvers a few times against the wall.  Continually telling myself "you are NOT afraid of bats.  You are a BIG DAWG!" Sister said it sounded too complicated and I should just throw a towel over it and scoop it up.  WHAT???  Get THAT CLOSE TO IT?  Then have to wash that towel several times in hot water or throw it away?  Right.  Back to the crate idea.

I put sister on speaker phone, put the phone in my pocket, plopped my orange baseball cap on for additional courage, stepped into the hall closing the door behind me.  I do not want Sassy attacked by a bat as its time for her shots and the coffers are bare. 

I took a deep breath, sent up a quick prayer and whispered to sister "ready" then slammed that crate against the sheers and the window.  The bat flew into the crate fighting against the trash bag.  I slid the cardboard between the sheer and the crate and held it tight to the opening. 

It is at this point I realized a few problems with the plan.  How could I open the hall door, much less the outside door without a) letting go of the cardboard lid and/or crate and b) without letting Sassy outside?

I balanced the crate on its backside against me (bat flapping wildly in the plastic - I really thought the plastic wouldn't give it any moving room), clasped the cardboard lid on the top of it tight and opened the hall door knowing Sassy would run into the hall.  I scooted in the sitting room and pulled the hall door shut with my foot.  Sassy was now locked in the hallway!! WOO HOO!  One problem down, one to go.  How to get the door deadbolt undone as it is so stiff it usually requires both hands?? 

I leaned the crate against the kitchen wall next to the door.  Kept one had firmly on the cardboard lid and tried the door.  DANG!  Stiff to turn. Would take both hands.  I am now swearing so bad the  kitchen takes on a whole new meaning of "painted blue" and my Uncle and Dad would've been shocked I knew that many swear words. 

At this point sister starts to get worried but I just focus.  How to keep the bat in the crate while letting go to use both hands?  And so, balancing the back of the crate between me and the wall (lid of crate against the wall -- bat really freaking out and me muttering "you are NOT afraid of bats.  You are a BIG DAWG" and hearing sister chatting away in my pocket), I reach over with both hands and release the deadbolt. 

I snatch the crate and out onto the rainy deck we go.  I push the crate up against the railing on the deck and go back inside.  I lock the deadbolt with both hands then walk to the fridge and write a note "WD40 the locks."  Pour myself a glass of wine and reach for my phone to give sister a play-by-play of what had happened. 

That really is one big bat.  There are big cats that roam the neighborhood.  I'll go out in the morning and if the bat is still in the crate, I'll figure out a way to release it then prep the crate in case I need it again soon.

I was a BIG DAWG!  I caught a bat and got it outside without any harm to me, the cat or the house.

And I learned a lot of stuff:

1) YouTube has some great instructional videos and I now know what Drew was telling me to do
2) next time, spray the trash bag liner with a bit of vegetable spray around the opening to slow the bat down from trying to crawl out
3) WD40 the doors and have them unlocked and ready to roll!
4) I need to locate a fishing or butterfly net and a tennis racket as a back-up plan
5) I am a BIG DAWG! (even if I do have to have sister on the speakerphone)
6) I am still afraid of bats but now I know one way to fight back

Maybe I'll tackle the basement next.  Then again, I think I better just finish my glass of wine and call it a night.

One dragon at a time is about all the excitement I can handle right now.

G'night.




Sunday, August 5, 2012

"Reel" Life


When Dad would sit in the rocker, eyes closed, he'd tell me "Chica, I'm just going to sit here now and contemplate the problems of the world."  I took that as code for "Nap Time"! 

Maybe I was wrong.

Today my favorite pastor told the story of the Israelites wandering about the desert moaning about no food, no meat! His version had Swedish Fish in it, but I digress...For years the Israelites had a dream and when it came true, what did they do?  COMPLAIN!!*  The ungrateful wretches actually told Moses they wished they had never left, never went for this dream, had died at the hands of Pharoah...they MISSED being SLAVES!  Why?  Because as slaves there was the known...they had food and shelter.  They wanted to go BACK. Whenever I read or heard that story, I'd think "Whiners!" 

Maybe I was wrong. 

I love my old house.  Nestled in the valley of the bluffs, just a short walk to the Mississppi and the front porch is one of the best I have sat on. Here I have room for a quilting studio, office and workout room and if I ever get the mole population under control I will begin gardening again.  But deep down I've been afraid about moving home because I will be living alone in a huge house that is over 140 years old with 12 foot ceilings and a limestone basement.  A house that needs some constant love, attention and a new roof.  Me...afraid of basements, bats, closets and the dark.  

 Maybe I was wrong.

My vast yard requires constant vigilence and with the recent rains and high winds the ancient trees have been shedding their branches, HUGE branches, surrounding the house.  While I'm grateful none fell on the roof, it has been a creative chore to deal with them.  The grass has been growing by leaps and bounds and there is no money for lawn service and I discarded keeping sheep and letting it grow and call it a "Natural Preserve" (City ordinance issues).  So, I settled on purchasing a $99 (tax, title and license included) REEL lawn mower.  Yep.  A MANUAL no gas/oil mix, no yanking, no lugging heavy machinery lawn mower.  Just a simple 5-blade cutter that I push around my lot - cutting grass and getting exercise.  Today I put it together and gave it a whirl.  I like the sound it makes and the easy clean-up with a rag and WD-40.  True, I had to pick-up EVERY STICK no matter the size (I would guesstimate about 1000 sticks).  But I loved it.  

I think I can do this.



Like the Israelites, after hard work and sacrifice I have made it, I have accomplished a dream from when I was a kid in Lott's Creek, Iowa, carrying my hammer wherever I went in case something needed fixing or a jury got roudy.  I have graduated law school with honors and sat for the Minnesota Bar (results pending) 10 days ago.  Yet, instead of being jubiliant, I have been wracked with fear, worry and doubts.   Every day that I woke up I saw it as another day not working.  Thing is I have worked my whole life and usually more than one job at a time.  Every lead of a job has led nowhere.  My fears grew, my worry increased and my faith waivered.  Like the Israelites I began looking BACK, wondering why I had ever taken this stupid journey, leaving a steady job that was pretty decent.  Where is my promised land?  Why I am just wondering about lost in the desert? 

Turns out I am not lost.  I am exactly where I am supposed to be, living each day stretching a penny, planning low-cost meals, finding creative solutions (e.g., no money) to whatever comes up. One day a lead will turn into a job. And when I am most scared?  Well, turns out I have an amazing source of friends and family to tap into and, mostly, I have God.  For today, God has given me shelter and food.  Tomorrow will take care of itself.  My only job is to greet each day with hope, faith and joy that I am home, safe, loved. 

I think I can do this.

So I keep moving forward.  Closer every day to finding out what is next in God's plan for me.  For now I will take the time to do all the things I have missed out the past couple of years.   Maybe its visiting someone who is lonely, catching a baseball game on the radio as I design and sew a quilt for a silent auction back in Oklahoma, or laughing with old friends over nothing at all, reading a mystery checked out from the library and mowing my lawn.

I think I'll haul my rocker to the front porch, prop my feet up on the railing, close my eyes and contemplate the problems of the world.

I can do this. 

I hope you stay tuned as I begin this next leg of my long life's journey.  It may not always be to your liking but it will always be straight from my heart...my two-cents worth.

Love,
Penny

*Cliff Note version: Slavery by Egyptians, Moses, ten plagues culminating in the death of first borns, great chase to the Red Sea, landed in the desert for 40 years, Moses dies, PROMISED LAND! Exodus in OT.