Tuesday, August 26, 2008
328
First my friend L needed surgery--like right now. Then the surgeon said she didn't! Everyone thinks she'll be fine. I'm grateful it wasn't anything more than a puzzling blip in her week.
327
Fresh corn on the cob! That's what I'm grateful for today. It seems to me that most farmers let the kernels get too big these days; it's the corn with small, tender kernels that I pine for and today I found them--not at a roadside stand, but at Family Fare. Who knew?
Also, a quote that I don't want to lose: "Literally translated from the ancient Greek in which the New Testament was written, to sin means to miss the mark, as an archer who misses the target, so to sin means to miss the point of human existence. It means to live unskillfully, blindly, and thus to suffer and cause suffering."--Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth
Also, a quote that I don't want to lose: "Literally translated from the ancient Greek in which the New Testament was written, to sin means to miss the mark, as an archer who misses the target, so to sin means to miss the point of human existence. It means to live unskillfully, blindly, and thus to suffer and cause suffering."--Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth
Sunday, August 24, 2008
325, 326
325: Writers of children's lit tend to be a kind, supportive lot and I saw that first hand at a children's lit event I participated in today. The event was well organized and promoted, but the anticipated crowds never arrived, perhaps because it was held in a park and the heat was brutal, and we all found ourselves performing for just a few folks. It always helps to have a friendly face in the crowd--someone who is engaged, someone whose positive energy fuels you; three acquaintances from the writer community sat out in the sun and did that for me today and for that I'm grateful.
326: My DH and I used the event from Day 325 as an excuse to take a faux getaway--an overnight away, just the two of us. I'm grateful for Carol, Mary, and Lynn, who each took one of our dependents (C, M, and the Bad Puppy), and allowed us to get the heck out of Dodge. We bought B shoes, ate fresh fish, and saw a movie (Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona). As far as we can tell, the kids and dog had fine times at their respective hosts' homes, as well.
326: My DH and I used the event from Day 325 as an excuse to take a faux getaway--an overnight away, just the two of us. I'm grateful for Carol, Mary, and Lynn, who each took one of our dependents (C, M, and the Bad Puppy), and allowed us to get the heck out of Dodge. We bought B shoes, ate fresh fish, and saw a movie (Vicky, Cristina, Barcelona). As far as we can tell, the kids and dog had fine times at their respective hosts' homes, as well.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
324
I'm grateful M was finally able to get her brand new contacts in! This is the first day of school, and I know it was doubly important to her, so I'm pleased she was able to do it!
Side note
An insight from one of A, which she got from one of her clients: "We are all bit players in other people's dramas."
322, 323
322: M's camera has been missing all summer. We looked everywhere and finally concluded she'd left it somewhere and it was gone for good. Today while getting ready for the new school year, she found it--in her school backpack, which she hadn't used since the last week of school. I'm grateful she found her camera.
323: Over the weekend, we had a discussion about feeling left out and my friend Lynn mentioned an essay that had been helpful to her long ago when she first read it. I'm grateful she was able to find the essay, The Inner Ring, by C.S. Lewis. Two excerpts, included here for my own ease in relocating them as needed:
"The torture allotted to the Danaids in the classical underworld, that of attempting to fill sieves with water, is the symbol not of one vice, but of all vices. It is the very mark of a perverse desire that it seeks what is not to be had. The desire to be inside the invisible line illustrates this rule. As long as you are governed by that desire you will never get what you want. You are trying to peel an onion: if you succeed there will be nothing left. Until you conquer the fear of being an outsider, an outsider you will remain."
"And if in your spare time you consort simply with the people you like, you will again find that you have come unawares to a real inside: that you are indeed snug and safe at the centre of something which, seen from without, would look exactly like an Inner Ring. But the difference is that the secrecy is accidental, and its exclusiveness a by-product, and no one was led thither by the lure of the esoteric: for it is only four or five people who like one another meeting to do things that they like. This is friendship."
323: Over the weekend, we had a discussion about feeling left out and my friend Lynn mentioned an essay that had been helpful to her long ago when she first read it. I'm grateful she was able to find the essay, The Inner Ring, by C.S. Lewis. Two excerpts, included here for my own ease in relocating them as needed:
"The torture allotted to the Danaids in the classical underworld, that of attempting to fill sieves with water, is the symbol not of one vice, but of all vices. It is the very mark of a perverse desire that it seeks what is not to be had. The desire to be inside the invisible line illustrates this rule. As long as you are governed by that desire you will never get what you want. You are trying to peel an onion: if you succeed there will be nothing left. Until you conquer the fear of being an outsider, an outsider you will remain."
"And if in your spare time you consort simply with the people you like, you will again find that you have come unawares to a real inside: that you are indeed snug and safe at the centre of something which, seen from without, would look exactly like an Inner Ring. But the difference is that the secrecy is accidental, and its exclusiveness a by-product, and no one was led thither by the lure of the esoteric: for it is only four or five people who like one another meeting to do things that they like. This is friendship."
Monday, August 18, 2008
318, 319, 320, 321
318: Leroy Sievers died today. I'm grateful for "My Cancer Blog," which he posted to every weekday during his two-year journey with cancer. Although I only discovered it this spring, Leroy's blog and the community that formed around it and him drove home some life lessons in a new way for me, as has my friend A's own journey through Cancer Land: Life is short. Don't put things off. Get on the horse. Try the water board. Launch the business. Cut the other person some slack. Let it go. Make time. Make love. Tell friends what they mean to you. Eat the peach. Don't wait. Don't wait. Don't wait.
319: I'm grateful for Jeff's parents, who let us use their home on Torch Lake again this year, and for J and A, who every year for the past six have played host and hostess to the 30-odd people that make up our community. I'm grateful J assigned chores this year (I was the Wet Towel Wench) and that he was able to tear himself away to go fishing. I'm grateful that T did life guard duty and didn't lose or misplace a single child. I'm grateful for D and B, who bring their guitars every year and lead singing around the campfire. I'm grateful for a full moon and a clearing nighttime sky and for S, who knows all the constellations and the stories behind their names. I'm grateful for A, who showed me how to water board and believed I could and who, when I fell, said, "That's okay. No one ever has to know if you don't want them to." I'm grateful for C, who went water boarding with me on my second attempt and encouraged me, even as she was trying to learn it, too. "Looking good," she said. "Take a deep breath. Relax." I never "felt my power" like all my other women friends did, but I stayed on, and that's powerful enough for me. On days like today, it's so very easy to have a full and grateful heart.
320: My friend A shared a wonderful analogy at the end of our Torch Lake walk today. She was marveling over how her family has been able to make it through the last few months, given her health considerations, and attributed much of that to the support they've received from friends and family. She compared it to the puck on air hockey table and how it floats above the table on a cushion of air that comes through many tiny air holes in the table. "One hole isn't enough," she said. "It takes a whole bunch of holes to make the puck float. I am that puck. My family is that puck, floating on that cushion of air that is all of you. And it doesn't exist just for me or for my family. It's there for all of us, whenever we need it." I'm grateful for the image, and for all the friendships that keep those pucks in the air.
321: A few weeks ago, I was sure my favorite corporate project was toast. But today it found a new champion--someone who sees its value and loves it as much as the team members. I'm grateful for Kevin, who sent the email that led to new funding. Sometimes things work out better than you even hope for.
319: I'm grateful for Jeff's parents, who let us use their home on Torch Lake again this year, and for J and A, who every year for the past six have played host and hostess to the 30-odd people that make up our community. I'm grateful J assigned chores this year (I was the Wet Towel Wench) and that he was able to tear himself away to go fishing. I'm grateful that T did life guard duty and didn't lose or misplace a single child. I'm grateful for D and B, who bring their guitars every year and lead singing around the campfire. I'm grateful for a full moon and a clearing nighttime sky and for S, who knows all the constellations and the stories behind their names. I'm grateful for A, who showed me how to water board and believed I could and who, when I fell, said, "That's okay. No one ever has to know if you don't want them to." I'm grateful for C, who went water boarding with me on my second attempt and encouraged me, even as she was trying to learn it, too. "Looking good," she said. "Take a deep breath. Relax." I never "felt my power" like all my other women friends did, but I stayed on, and that's powerful enough for me. On days like today, it's so very easy to have a full and grateful heart.
320: My friend A shared a wonderful analogy at the end of our Torch Lake walk today. She was marveling over how her family has been able to make it through the last few months, given her health considerations, and attributed much of that to the support they've received from friends and family. She compared it to the puck on air hockey table and how it floats above the table on a cushion of air that comes through many tiny air holes in the table. "One hole isn't enough," she said. "It takes a whole bunch of holes to make the puck float. I am that puck. My family is that puck, floating on that cushion of air that is all of you. And it doesn't exist just for me or for my family. It's there for all of us, whenever we need it." I'm grateful for the image, and for all the friendships that keep those pucks in the air.
321: A few weeks ago, I was sure my favorite corporate project was toast. But today it found a new champion--someone who sees its value and loves it as much as the team members. I'm grateful for Kevin, who sent the email that led to new funding. Sometimes things work out better than you even hope for.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
317
A two-fer day. First, M got a new haircut this afternoon. It's kicky and cute and perfect for her, and we both liked it right away. I'm grateful that when she showed it to C, he said three little words that meant so much coming from him: "I like it."
Second, I was out of cash but wanted to go to the farmers market. My DH had some cash on him and promised to leave it for me, but then forgot to do so before he left for work. Twenty minutes later, he was back with the money. "Thanks," I said, "but you didn't have to. I know where the bank is." "I know," he said. "But I told you I'd leave it for you and it bothered me that I forgot." I'm grateful he keeps promises. As Clark would say, "He's just cool like that."
Second, I was out of cash but wanted to go to the farmers market. My DH had some cash on him and promised to leave it for me, but then forgot to do so before he left for work. Twenty minutes later, he was back with the money. "Thanks," I said, "but you didn't have to. I know where the bank is." "I know," he said. "But I told you I'd leave it for you and it bothered me that I forgot." I'm grateful he keeps promises. As Clark would say, "He's just cool like that."
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
313, 314, 315, 316
313: My DH brought home something that has increased my quality of life and lowered my blood pressure--an ultrasonic device that senses when the Bad Puppy barks and emits a high pitched sound that she can hear but we can't. It works pretty well. Occasionally, she forgets about it but then she barks once and it reminds her. I'm grateful for the Doggy Silencer 2000.
314: M and I were looking to kill some time in the middle of the day. "Picnic at the lighthouse?" I asked. "Whatever you want," she said. The air was chilly but the skies were blue and the company was fine. I'm grateful M was in a "go along" kind of mood so we could enjoy some time, just the two of us.
315: I've been craving soft serve ice cream for the past few weeks. Today, while hanging out on the north side (and filling a gap between finishing shopping and picking up C at the rink), I pulled into Dairy Queen drive through and ordered two twists--mine with nuts. Once we had the cones in our hands, it became clear that we wouldn't be able to stay in the van and eat them. I parked way out in the parking lot and we sat down on a parking bumper (those long cement blocks) and licked and licked our cones. We got funny looks from everyone driving by, but we decided they were just jealous. I'm grateful for this odd little break in our afternoon. It made both of us smile.
316: M's riding lesson went swimmingly today. I'm grateful that the instructor, who's not that into praise, was practically effusive. M knows she has improved a lot, but sometimes it's nice to hear it from a teacher.
314: M and I were looking to kill some time in the middle of the day. "Picnic at the lighthouse?" I asked. "Whatever you want," she said. The air was chilly but the skies were blue and the company was fine. I'm grateful M was in a "go along" kind of mood so we could enjoy some time, just the two of us.
315: I've been craving soft serve ice cream for the past few weeks. Today, while hanging out on the north side (and filling a gap between finishing shopping and picking up C at the rink), I pulled into Dairy Queen drive through and ordered two twists--mine with nuts. Once we had the cones in our hands, it became clear that we wouldn't be able to stay in the van and eat them. I parked way out in the parking lot and we sat down on a parking bumper (those long cement blocks) and licked and licked our cones. We got funny looks from everyone driving by, but we decided they were just jealous. I'm grateful for this odd little break in our afternoon. It made both of us smile.
316: M's riding lesson went swimmingly today. I'm grateful that the instructor, who's not that into praise, was practically effusive. M knows she has improved a lot, but sometimes it's nice to hear it from a teacher.
312
B has had some serious health problems in the past and I admit I get worried about her on the nights she stays at her beach house alone, like she did last night. We agreed that this morning, I would call her when I was on my way out the door to her house for a walk. I called twice before I left the house, but she didn't pick up. Before I left my driveway, I dialed her number and called her every two or three minutes, using "re-dial." She never picked up.
By the time I arrived at the bottom of her driveway, I was more than a little concerned. She had said she was always awake by now and even if she wasn't, the phone is right by her bed. I envisioned her passed out somewhere, or maybe conscious but incapacitated. I ring the door bell. Nothing. I pound on the door. No response.
I wonder if I'm going to have to call 9-1-1. It occurs to me that I don't know her address there--but I know where she keeps the mail and figure I can get the address off a letter, if things come to that. In truth, I'm thinking that having to place that call would be the best case scenario.
I unlock the door and call her name. The house is. . .er. . .deathly quiet. When I get to her bedroom door, I knock and call again. I try the door. It's locked. My imagination kicks into overdrive. I pound on the door and yell, "B! B!"
Finally, I hear a groggy, "Huh? Wah?" and a sleepy B opens the door. "I haven't slept that hard in five years."
I give her a big hug and sob, "You scared the &^$! out of me. Don't ever do that again!"
I'm grateful I found B alive and not choked in a twisted knot of sheets.
By the time I arrived at the bottom of her driveway, I was more than a little concerned. She had said she was always awake by now and even if she wasn't, the phone is right by her bed. I envisioned her passed out somewhere, or maybe conscious but incapacitated. I ring the door bell. Nothing. I pound on the door. No response.
I wonder if I'm going to have to call 9-1-1. It occurs to me that I don't know her address there--but I know where she keeps the mail and figure I can get the address off a letter, if things come to that. In truth, I'm thinking that having to place that call would be the best case scenario.
I unlock the door and call her name. The house is. . .er. . .deathly quiet. When I get to her bedroom door, I knock and call again. I try the door. It's locked. My imagination kicks into overdrive. I pound on the door and yell, "B! B!"
Finally, I hear a groggy, "Huh? Wah?" and a sleepy B opens the door. "I haven't slept that hard in five years."
I give her a big hug and sob, "You scared the &^$! out of me. Don't ever do that again!"
I'm grateful I found B alive and not choked in a twisted knot of sheets.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
309, 310, 311
309: Clients sometimes burn disks for me of presentations or documents and I've had spotty success opening the files on these disks. The client invariably says, "Well, that's odd. It worked here when I tested it." And I know it did work for him/her. But it doesn't work for me. In our house, we have a total of four working computers, and there have been times when none of the computers can open the files (aka, the #*&! files, after I've been trying for a while). Today I got a new disk from a client, and the file I needed opened on the first try. I'm grateful when technology works seamlessly. There are some mysteries in life I don't mind pondering, but the mystery of technology is not one of them.
310: When it comes to my fiction, I've been feeling disengaged this summer. I've been idly wondering when disengagement and taking a break turns into quitting and wondering what difference would it make anyway if I did quit. I'm grateful that today, out of the blue, an editor I met a long time ago said that it does matter. I haven't re-engaged yet, but I'm thinking about it.
311: I'm grateful one of C's friends invited C on an overnight canoe trip and that C came back safe. Also tired. Also--I swear it--taller!
310: When it comes to my fiction, I've been feeling disengaged this summer. I've been idly wondering when disengagement and taking a break turns into quitting and wondering what difference would it make anyway if I did quit. I'm grateful that today, out of the blue, an editor I met a long time ago said that it does matter. I haven't re-engaged yet, but I'm thinking about it.
311: I'm grateful one of C's friends invited C on an overnight canoe trip and that C came back safe. Also tired. Also--I swear it--taller!
Monday, August 4, 2008
307, 308
307: Every night after dinner, the Bad Puppy locks her eyes on us and waits for us to get up and do the dishes. That's because when we do the dishes, if she's lucky, she gets a piece of leftover chicken or flank steak or at least a bit of red pepper. I'm grateful for her eagerness to get to dishwashing because frankly by the time we do the dishes, my own enthusiasm is flagging.
308: It's been looking like rain pretty much all evening. At several points, I even felt a few raindrops. I'm grateful the rain held off until my tennis class was almost over, at which point it rained for about five minutes--which was just long enough for us all to pack up and go home.
308: It's been looking like rain pretty much all evening. At several points, I even felt a few raindrops. I'm grateful the rain held off until my tennis class was almost over, at which point it rained for about five minutes--which was just long enough for us all to pack up and go home.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
305, 306
305: L.M. and K.M. go to our church and I swear they are saints, although they would laugh to hear me say it. Anyway, among many other things, they organize and sponsor mission trips. Oh, also? They own a blueberry farm. Tonight they held a pie-making event; the proceeds from the pies will help fund these various mission trips. B and I and the kids all went and made blueberry pies for a few hours. It was messy and fun and really gratifying. I'm grateful for L.M. and K.M. and people like them--you know, the organizers. Because I'm not much of an organizer, but I'm a pretty good "chipper-inner."
306: Today is one of those rare days where everything falls into place, rather than falls apart. M immediately got her copy of Breaking Dawn and that occupied her for most of the day. B and I were able to grab a catnap in the afternoon and then play a little tennis. And Bev and Al were free for last-minute invite to dinner and even willing to leave the beach. I'm grateful for days that end up this way, although how things fall into place is just as much a mystery to me as how a well planned day falls apart. All I can do is embrace the mystery.
306: Today is one of those rare days where everything falls into place, rather than falls apart. M immediately got her copy of Breaking Dawn and that occupied her for most of the day. B and I were able to grab a catnap in the afternoon and then play a little tennis. And Bev and Al were free for last-minute invite to dinner and even willing to leave the beach. I'm grateful for days that end up this way, although how things fall into place is just as much a mystery to me as how a well planned day falls apart. All I can do is embrace the mystery.
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