You're Beautiful

After a trip to pick up firewood, I decided to treat myself to Starbucks. With help I managed to fill up the truck, tie it down and drive it on home. If you don't have FM, sciatica and arthritis, you may not know what a feat this was. I was feeling pleased and that kind of delicious tiredness that comes with pushing oneself to accomplish a physical task.

I pulled into the drive through at my local Starbucks (why haven't they called me for an interview yet?) the cheerful male voice called out, "How are you today, beautiful?"

"Fine. How are you?"

"Great. What can I get for you this Valentine's Day?"

Gotta say, that even though I am not one who meets the standard of beauty, and though I knew who it must have been calling out through the speaker (turns out they have this tiny camera so they can see you, but you cannot see them), and though I know this guy is harmlessly flirting, and is young enough to be my son (gasp!) it still made me feel good. It's been a very long time since anyone called me beautiful. Kind of brings tears to my eyes to think about it.

I don't expect those kind of compliments, truly I don't. It sure feels good to hear, even if it's not true.

Made me remember an episode of "Cheers" from way back. Coach's daughter was really frustrated with her dad cause he called her beautiful. "Don't you see me dad?" She didn't want him to patronize her. "Look at me!" she insisted. He looked at her and in a choked voice he said, "You look just like your mother." It was clear from what followed that he had thought his wife was beautiful, and in doing so you realized that his daughter now realized that he was speaking the truth as he saw it. He truly saw her as beautiful.

When I think about it I know many women who look all different ways, ultra-thin, voluptuous, dark-straight hair, short frizzy hair, freckles, big lips, thin lips...oh I could go on, but you know what I mean. Think of the women you know and how their beauty is so different from one to the next. From the wholesome outdoor girl to the pale, wan, ethereal type, each has their own beauty. Perhaps that is the lesson I need to internalize today. Perhaps I am holding myself to a standard which I don't apply to anyone else. Perhaps others see me the way I see them, as having a unique attraction. I don't expect everyone to look alike, merely to be the best individual they are...and in the end, I think I really look for the heart that shines out. Are they compassionate? Loving? Kind? Funny? Merciful? Just? True? Do they face life with courage? I have some friends I would find impossible to describe physically because I see such joy and courage in their faces that that is the beauty I see when I think of them. Their internals shine on the outside.

Oh, that is the beauty to which I aspire. What matters it whether I have perfect skin, flawless body, shiny gorgeous hair, perfectly straight teeth? what does it matter that my eyes don't work together? One day, given enough years, we will all have matching sets of wrinkled skin and gray hair. May the lines on my face be that of smiles and joy rather than the frown of depression. May my eyes shine with love and compassion.

Living in a Snowglobe

Well it's snowing again. This has been the most amazing winter so far. Snow, snow and more snow. It's finally melted in large part from the first blizzard on December 21st. Now the snow isn't accumulating, just floating to the ground lightly in fat, fluffy flakes as if the world outside my window was one of those snowglobes I collect.

People who aren't from Colorado often think we have winters of non-stop snow, mistaking the ski slopes and mountain areas with the entire state. The largest population centers are located just East of the mountain range and here, the snowfall is somewhat different.

Typically, we will have snow followed by a few temperate days during which the accumulated snow melts. Any snow we get usually goes away quickly and there is never enough of it for me. I am delighted by the snow, but unfortunately, the icy sidewalks (many people have never cleared their walks) make it difficult to walk through the neighborhood, and I have had an attack of FM and sciatica keeping me indoors more than I would prefer. I love the crisp air and the cold on my face. I love playing in the snow!

There was a story on the news tonight about people who get the winter blues. They typically do this story every winter. Even though the cold makes my joints ache and my arthritis a bit worse, I can't understand getting down in the dumps when the skies are overcast and there is snow on the ground.

When the leaves have fallen off the trees I can see Pikes Peak from my deck. I've prayed that some natural occurance would cause the top 20 or 30 feet to fall off their trees so that I could see the mountain year round, but that hasn't happened. But when fall causes the leaves to jump to their deaths, I get to see the glorious mountain.

Now, the mountain, the city lights, my fabulous trees are all seen through the gentle snowfall. I love snowglobes.

Pet Food Peeve

Moments ago another dog food commercial came on noting with pride the inclusion of "carrots and peas". I have seen ingredients such as rice and wheat announced as if this is the greatest thing. Bowls that look as if they came from a 4-star restaurant are pile high with gleaming mounds of gravy coated beef surrounded by perfectly cut carrots and peas next to a bed of rice with each glistening grain exactly the same size, color and texture as the next.

My question is: when was the last time you had a problem keeping your dog out of the carrot patch? When does a wild dog devour a garden full of peas?

Dog food is sold to the taste of humans, not dogs. I know I'm not the first one to note that, but it bears repeating. When I watch dog food commercials I am reminded that my dogs eat their own vomit and will eat any rotten piece of flesh they can find. They will eat vegetables but only if they were first served up to humans. Why should I pay a fortune for the bliss of serving them a vegetable stew?

I base my selection of dog food on three things: the recommendation of the vet who first saw my dogs, any research (claimed or documented, I don't look into it that thoroughly) that the food is good for their coat and skin, and price. At a certain price point the dogs can have kibble from the dollar store. Anyway, I serve mine Pedigree, purchased usually from Sam's Club in the 50 pound bags. I have no idea what the ads say. I can't figure out when they are considered "older" or "mature" dogs, but as near as I can figure out, the youngest is 9 1/2 and the older one 11, which seems to be a decent age for a dog, so I probably will soon switch to the mature formula.

Anyway, I guess my point, if there is one, is that dogs should eat food that more closely resembles what they would eat naturally, though I would not serve them live squirrels, small birds, and generally yell at them if they attempt to ingest anything that was once inside their own bodies. However, kibble made with lots of meat protein and some greens (they do like to munch on grass, I call them my little cows) works for me. It semi-approximates their natural diet.

Now that I say that, I must confess that I don't use the same standard for myself, though I should. Unless I can find the Potassium Benzoate tree or the Acesulfame Potassium bush I should probably not drink the Diet Coke that has been keeping me up at night.

I gotta wonder how many nasty little chemicals are hidden in the food I eat.

Redneck, White-trash Christmas

Now before you get upset at the use of the terms "redneck" and "white-trash", I understand that these can be inflammatory. For a writer, I am remarkably bereft of words. Let me tell you the story.

The kids were all due home this Christmas, Alex from college, Craig from the army, where he is posted at Fort Sill, and Kristen with her husband Paul, from California. Alex was home, Craig arrived on the 18th, having driven all night with a buddy from Fort Sill, after sleeping for a few hours, they took off to see the sights. They arrived late that night, then were out again the next day. The 20th began a blizzard with Craig and his buddy having spent the night with a friend of Craig after an "all night video tournament" which I took to mean they were drinking and didn't want to drive.

Craig came home that day ready to go get his sister from DIA. The blizzard made it certain that Kristen and Paul would spend their Christmas in California, with flights cancelled and travellers stranded all over. It also meant that Craig couldn't get out to pick up Zach, who had to spend the next couple of days with Craig's friend.

On the 22nd we began to be able to get around, but with four vehicles at our house, we could only drive one of them. The work truck with the rack and chains was the only one able to get around.

Anyway, when Craig got out that afternoon and went to go pick up Zach, somehow he had gotten from the far southeast side to the middle far west side. I didn't think a whole lot about it, just wondered how he would get there.

Christmas Eve everyone showed up for the last of the three services I was singing in. Christmas morning we started late, with everyone hanging around for our traditional Lucky Charms Christmas breakfast. I also made a double batch of Swedish pancakes. We ate, then opened our meager presents. Then we all prepared to go to our traditional Christmas movie. Craig and Zach were late enough that we had to switch to a later show. Then they took Alex home while Steve and I went to my parents. Later Craig and Zach also showed up at Mom and Dad's.

It was a nice day, but everyone was moping that Kristen couldn't come.

The following morning the guys were gone and I was kind of depressed with everyone's attitude, so I went to spend a little time at a friend's for a peaceful interlude. When I left, I checked my phone to find that I had missed about eight calls. Alex. Craig. Alex. Alex. Alex. Alex. Alex. Alex. So I called only to hear that Craig had been in a bad car accident and that he and all his passengers were in the ER at Memorial. He was okay but "banged up pretty badly", Zach was hurt and couldn't feel part of his feet. One of his passengers was a friend who was 8 months pregnant and was supposed to stay the night. Her 11-month-old son was the only uninjured party (a testament to good car seats!).

Craig having the most readily apparent wounds, and two of the passengers having masked their injuries with adrenalin rushes, they were late to begin treatment/assessment and he was the first to be released, so he came home to shower, change and head back to check on his passengers. About two blocks away he says, "Uh, Mom? There's something I have to tell you. Angel (the pregnant passenger with 11 month old) isn't just my friend. She's my wife."

I never read Amy Vanderbilt's proper etiquette for this situation, so I don't say much. I don't really believe it, yet part of me knows it's true. It explains so much. I'm having a heart attack; no, I'm hyperventilating; no, I'm just fine, just heartbroken and can't breathe. I'm crying, so he says, "This is why I didn't tell you...'cause of how you react." Excuse me?

What, pray tell, is the appropriate response? He shows me the wedding certificate and I see that they have been married since the day he arrived home. Hiding this for over a week! Living in my house, spending Christmas with us while he had a wife on the other side of town. Plus, he's married to a pregnant girl with a child, neither child is Craig's. What the hell?

So...it gets worse, but this is my redneck, white-trash Christmas. I don't know the child I bore, but I have a mental picture of him that I cannot get out of my mind. He's a little guy, walking around in a mock baseball shirt and shorts, hair combed neatly over and bright blue eyes looking up out of the mischievous, chubby-cheeked, smiling face. How did we get from there to here?

My son, who I've always felt was a bit behind the crowd in maturity is now married and the stepdad of two children. He doesn't have two nickels to rub together and now has all these responsibilities he cannot comprehend.

I'm sure there are better adjectives to describe these holidays, but I'm afraid you'll have to supply them for me. I'm plum out of words.

Sanity

"Sanity's a one-trick pony. I mean, you only get one trick! But if you're good and crazy, the sky's the limit!"- The Tick

Nobel Peace Prize

I'm surprised to care about the Nobel Prize this year. Ordinarily it is a mere blip in my consciousness and I could not name more than a few prize winners ever. This year, however, I am moved to find that Mohammed Yuniks and Grameen Bank share the Peace Prize.

I have seen interviews with Yuniks before and been touched that he was moved to do what he could and that what he could do, seeming so small, made such a huge difference in people's lives. With $27.00 he loaned to the people of a small village, they were able to get out from under the moneylenders and work their way into financial freedom. Their children were able to go to school. It's a wonderful story, all the more so because it is true.

The Bible says he who is faithful in little will be faithful in much, and I guess this is true of this man. Seeing a small thing he could do, he did it.

This is what I need. This year, when we are so broke, I am doing the little I can, first giving to my church, what little I can give, then giving to the One campaign. It is a little thing. Unbelievably small..

Great things are done with little; can you believe that a child can be supported for a month for $32? That is what Compassion asks to provide food, clothing and an education for a child. In the world in which I live, $32.00 will not provide much of anything. It will not pay the light bill, the phone bill, the water bill, it will not clothe me or fill my gas tank, but half a world away, $32.00 is an enormous sum of money.

In my world, many people won't even bend over to pick up a dollar bill if it falls to the ground, but the one campaign is using the proceeds of wristbands costing $1/each to help alleviate and work toward ending some of the worst suffering and injustice of our day.

I know many Christians who would scold me for having a "social gospel", but the Bible says we are to do it "unto the least of these". "He hath shewed thee, O man, what [is] good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" Micah 6:8.

To do justly. To love mercy. To bind up the wounds, to care for the orphans and widows in their distress...

Imperfect as it may be, the One campaign is working to do justice and to be merciful to the poor, to declare a year of jubilee, to release the poor from their debtors, and to show mercy and humankindness to peoples stricken by AIDS. Are there other causes? Yes. International Justice Mission, Compassion, World Vision. You may have your own. This is my choice.

One little person doing the small things put in front of me. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the one small thing I can do blossomed into something like Grameen Bank? Let's be faithful in little friends.

A Christmas Poem - 2006

In the toughest of times
The seasons still change
Winter comes round
Bringing Christmas again
I’m tempted to shut down
to simply hibernate
close the blinds, turn the phones off
say to all “Go away!”
But in the tough times HE came
In a lowly cattle stall
He came as a baby
Helpless and small
To Joseph and Mary
So far from their home
To the city of David
By edict from Rome

The tough times had just started
The family soon fled
When the angel warned them
What was in Herod’s head
He would kill all the young ones
To be rid of the king
The stars had announced
And the wise men had seen.


It was tough to be walking each day
Town to town
No home, no bed, no pillow they found
Hunted and praised, revered and reviled
Surely wrong for God’s only child

It was the Father who sent him
And to him he cried
As he prayed in the garden
No one at his side
His sweat like blood
So tormented was he
By the pain he saw coming
Up on Calvary

“Not my will, by thine.”
In submission complete
To pain he went forward
As he rose to his feet.
It was pain and rejection
The sin of the world
On the face of perfection
Such insults were hurled.

He cried out in pain and deep agony
But still he went forward for you and for me
It was the tough times the worst of the worst
And he went through it all for he thought of me first

So this Christmas I remember
The God born to man
The son of the father
Salvation’s only plan
And I sing through my tears
Of that holy incarnation
My Jesus, My Savior
The hope of the nations

My troubles seem smaller
As I remember this
My heart so much lighter
As I walk in the midst
Of truths so profound
I cannot comprehend
That God to this world
His own Son did he send
For miserable people
The worst and the least
No other could save us
But our great High Priest.