Glee

The researcher in me just had a bit of an out-of-body experience. I landed on Lisa Gold's blog. She does a lot of research for writers. Now, her blog is going to just make me high every time she posts.

Today, I decided that getting high meant looking at some of the basic reference websites she uses. I was practically twitching by the time I had two of them bookmarked.

From her blog:

• www.refdesk.com: Refdesk.com is a truly vast and headache-inducing site, with links to thousands of websites. It may be better for finding quick facts than doing in-depth research.
• www.nypl.org/links/: The New York Public Library’s “Best of the Web.”
• www.loc.gov/rr/main/alcove9/: The Library of Congress’ annotated list of reference websites.
• www.digital-librarian.com: A librarian’s choice of the best of the web.
• www.lii.org: Librarians’ Internet Index.

I've spent time on refdesk.com before. It gives me a headache. I've spent time on the Library of Congress site. It's cool. By the time I got to digital-librarian, I had nearly lost my sanity! All of this information! All of this fun!

It didn't help that on a previous post she had pointed me to a thesaurus that sent me into complete apoplexy. Ohhhhhhhh .... it's all over for me now.

Victim or Adventurer

"...he realized that he had to choose between thinking of himself as the poor victim of a thief or as an adventurer in quest of his treasure." (The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho)

I feel like I'm on an adventure. I'm thankful that right now I have the option to make choices which allow me to pursue the adventure, rather than sit still limited by my choices. Sometimes, though, it's all about how we look at things!

We all know plenty of people that spend most of their waking moments complaining about their lot in life. There's not enough money, they aren't being fulfilled in their job, their children drive them crazy, the list of complaints is interminable. Day after day the same things come out of their mouths. Victims.

I find that this type of thinking has increased exponentially in the last couple of decades. It's easier to complain and whine and hope that someone else will fix things for you than it is to take a step out, a step in faith, a step beyond the box.

Sometimes it isn't about changing the situation, it's about changing how we look at the situation. Sometimes it really is about changing the situation.

I'm fortunate. I've been given the opportunity to make some big changes in my life. But, I'm also 48 years old. I spent 20+ years in a job that could have killed me, but it didn't. Every day was an adventure. I know that to have followed all of my dreams, I would have had to set aside my concerns for my family and the responsibilities I had taken on. I chose to stick with them and try to not complain too loudly when the stress got out of control.

Victim or Adventurer. Which attitude will you take for the next few days of your life?

So, what's new with you?

It was an interesting evening. I spent it at Papio Bowl. My sister used to have these "I'm Never Getting Old Parties." Then, she got old. Then, she got over that and decided it was time to have another. Well, weird thing. People around her definitely got older. Including me.

I spent the evening chatting with many of her friends. People I haven't really seen in 4 or 5 years. And the question comes up continuously ... what's been going on in your life? Hah. Do they really want to know? I'm guessing the answer is a resounding 'no.' They don't have time to listen to me tell the tales of change and tumult that have occurred in the last 2 years of my life. So, we chatted about the banal and insipid, quietly leaving the deeper issues on hold. They're Carol's friends, not mine.

But, as I talked to one of her friends, she described her life to me. Not much had really changed since I had last seen her 4 years ago. How do you tell someone that you are always changing, but there are no big differences in your life? Every once in awhile, something big happens to your life, a job change, marriage, divorce, enter school, complete school, new kids, family deaths. But, for the most part, we live our lives and hold pretty close to the status quo.

That doesn't mean we aren't learning new stuff and meeting new people, experiencing new things. How do you describe to someone you are having a five minute conversation with, the excitement of a 10 hour drive through Iowa and uncovering the beauty of the surrounding area. How do you let them know that just this morning, God took you into the Psalms and introduced you to a completely new manner of communication with Him? The small changes. Those things that allow us to have hope for a better tomorrow, even if all of the stuff stays the same around us. That's what is new in my life.

Even though I have dealt with a lot of 'big' things in the last couple of years, the excitement in my life comes from discovering a new book, listening to my friends tell me about what they are experiencing, hanging out for a couple of hours with old friends, watching my husband enjoy taking photographs, sitting on the front porch while Leica explores the same old yard, enjoying my niece and nephews as they grow up.

What's new with me? The same old thing. I'm so thankful for that!

Quick Run to the Quick Trip

After supper tonight, we made a quick run to the Quick Trip. Max went in for me, I sat in the car and watched people. I needed AAA batteries for my Mighty Bright Booklight. It wasn't so quick. They lock their batteries up in a case. Someone had to track down the key for the case. I'm guessing they don't sell a lot of batteries.

As I waited, I watched a 20-something young man dressed in security guard clothing. He was emaciated. Ok ... skinny. I could've taken him. He wasn't terribly threatening. He came out with a package of gummy bears. Quick sugar. So young.

My eyes were quickly arrested by the strange man who had saran wrap around his left calf. Shorts and a t-shirt. Really. He didn't look so strange ... except for the badly wrapped saran wrap. He was in front of Max at the counter. I asked Max if he could tell why there was plastic wrap and he said he couldn't see a thing.

Article on CNN.com about James Hoyt. He was one of the first 4 GIs who entered Buchenwald at the end of WWII. Max's Uncle Bill was part of the liberation of that camp. He never talked about it. Max asked and asked and Bill just couldn't bear remembering. But, we can't dare forget.

Whoosh ...

And the last few days are over. And here I thought I was retired. I look around my house and see that not only have I not gotten anything productive done as far as cleanup, but things seem to have gotten worse. Errr ... what? It's not like I have left my desk to do much other than leave the house. So, I'll blame Max. It's what I do.

I can tell that people are headed back to their normal fall activities. I'm creating pieces to kick off programs at church and I'm creating pieces for Carol and her 6th grade class.

Met up with some friends at Pepperjax. GoodNESS, but that's one of my favorite places to eat. Fortunately I don't feel guilty over taking up a table and reducing the possibility of a waiter's tip. We were able to hang out and chat for a few extra minutes. That was a good thing. I love my friends.

It's pretty interesting - I have wonderful, wild friends that are in my life in so many different ways. Have you ever given any thought to how varied your friendships are? Once, long ago (many years - don't ask), Carol and I were trying to put together a dinner party. As we considered who would work well together, we realized that our friends were so very different, it probably wouldn't work out to have them all together at the same time. What a riot!

I treasure the differences that my friends bring to my life. Each causes me to look at the world a bit differently. If all of my friends were exactly alike, I would only see the world from a single perspective. But, as it is, my mind is constantly maneuvered into new avenues. If one were missing from my life, I would lose the perspective that they bring to me.

So ... tonight, I'm much too tired to delve deeply into the truth that is friendship. Jesus wants us to be His friend. And if we are a friend of Jesus', we are a friend of God. Sounds pretty good to me. Maybe that is what I will cogitate upon as I drift off to sleep. Goodnight!

Why I love my dog

I just finished reading "Marley and Me" by John Grogan. I laughed so much that I hurt. At one point I was sitting on the front stoop while Leica was warming up in the shade and I began laughing so loudly I caught myself and quickly looked around to see if I was embarrassing myself. I was safe, so I began to read again. The laughter got louder the second time, so rather than subject myself to anymore concern over being thought a fool, I tugged on Leica's leash and we retreated to the safety of the living room.

As hard as I laughed throughout that book, I sobbed at the end. Of course I knew that Marley was going to get old and die, I was just hoping that he wouldn't write about it. You see, I like my books and my movies to be happy. No one ever dies, no one ever has trouble in life ... everyone is happy.

But, what a glorious book about the relationship between a man and his dog - even if the dog is the world's worst dog ever.

Every dog I've ever had was a great dog. When I was young, we started out kind of rocky with our pets. My grandfather kept trying to have dogs, but he was very bad at it. Joey and Katie ended up at our house after he discovered he couldn't deal with them. Katie was an absolutely insane Viszla. There was no controlling her. But, we found good homes for both of those dogs. We also found that three children had gotten a hint of the fun of having a pet and weren't going to last very long without a dog around. It was all over for dad. Mom had grown up with dogs, Dad hadn't. He lost.

We soon found ourselves looking into large metal cells at the Burlington Humane Society for the best dog ever. Charcoal went home with us that day and became an immediate part of our family. She was followed by Odie (actually, OD - Other Dog. Jim and a friend had rescued two part-Schnauzers from a man who was going to kill them and hid those two dogs in the loft of our garage. When he asked mom what we would name another dog if we got another dog, she flippantly said, "OD - Other Dog." And Odie came into our lives). After Charcoal died, Ghenghis Khan, King of the Mongrel Hordes soon came to live with us. That little Shih-Tzu lived up to his name. Mom died before Ghenghis and he moved into an apartment with Carol and me. I believe he was stolen one evening when he chased around a corner before I got there. After weeks and weeks of looking for him all over the neighborhood, our hearts were broken. But, during that time, I was at the Humane Society every evening looking for him. I didn't find him, but I did find my very first dog. She was all mine. A little black poodle mix. I named her Isolde. I took her home that first evening and she plastered herself against my body. From that day forward she rarely left my side. She loved me with everything she had.

Several years later, Isolde died and it wasn't long before I got my first dachshund - Bert. What a great little guy he was. He was insane over rubber toys that had whistles in them. It was great entertainment to watch him go nuts while trying to remove the whistle. Once it was out of the toy, he could relax. He was never more than 10 feet from me and I could trust him to be off-leash and never wander away. He transitioned with me from Carol to Max.

When he died at about age 16, Max and I felt freedom for the first time. We could travel as we wanted and never had to hurry home from dinner. But, you know what? Those weren't nearly as important as I thought.

I heard about a miniature dachshund in Kansas that desperately needed a home. I begged, cried, pleaded and whimpered at Max until he relented. He said we weren't going to have another dog until I could be home with the dog. I didn't care. I needed a dog in my life. We drove to Nebraska City, met the woman from the rescue and met Leica. She wasn't terribly sure about all of the chaos that had been in her life to that point, but I was.

She was 9 years old when we got her. I can see grey around her snout. I know I don't have a lifetime with her, but she is definitely worth every moment I do have. There is something wonderful about the incredible love a dog offers you. Leica is definitely my dog but she loves Max like crazy. One evening he sat on the couch and she leaped up to get close to him. He looked at me and said, "she really does love me, doesn't she?" Of course she does. She's a dog and is so glad to have her people around.

When we leave, she dashes for the kitchen counter to watch out the window. I hope that at some point she settles down to sleep, but when we come home, she's there again, wiggling with joy that we are home. She follows me up the stairs and down the stairs all day long and when I head for the front door, she can barely contain herself at the possibility of going outside.

At night she snuggles in the crook of my legs, but before crawling under the covers she launches herself onto my chest to kiss me over and over.

I love my dog.

Psalm 8

I was struck by the 2nd picture of the Carina Nebula (click on the picture for more information) and haven't been able to get this Psalm out of my mind today! When I finally moved past the first verse, I managed to get stuck on verse 4, "what is man that you are mindful of him?" This is my hymn of praise today.

O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is
your name in all the earth!

You have set your glory
above the heavens.

From the lips of children and infants
you have ordained praise
because of your enemies,
to silence the foe and the avenger.

When I consider
your heavens,
the work of
your fingers,
the moon and
the stars
which you have
set in place,


what is man that you are mindful of him,
the son of man that you care for him?

You made
him a little
lower than
the heavenly
beings and
crowned him
with honor.




You made him ruler over the works of your hands,
you put everything under his feet:



all the flocks and herds, and the beasts of the fields,


the birds of the air,
and the fish of the sea,
all that swim the paths of the seas.





O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!

Memories of long ago

Cool! I just found my best friend from high school on Facebook. I haven't talked to her in a long time. Now, I have to explain how cool this is. You see, I'm old. There aren't a LOT of people my age on Facebook. When I signed on, I didn't expect to find my classmates there, I expected to find my younger friends, because they're supposed to be so much more computer-savvy. I was right.

All of my life statistics reduce the probability of me finding my old friends on Facebook. 1. My age, 2. I came from a class with a limited number of people (116). When I began looking for friends from my class (and those right around it) on Facebook, I found 3 that had graduated in 1977 (and yes, I understand that many of your were born long after that year). I had known them, but not well, so I waited.

For some reason or other, I checked again the other day - and there she was! I see pictures of her kids - all grown up, one of her nieces got married - that freaked me out (we're much too young for that to happen - right? nope). Her sisters that I knew well because of all the time I spent at her house and her mom. Oh. It's a good thing.

This is the girl I got into trouble with, I explored great music with, we drove around town for hours in the evenings in her car back when gas was a nonissue. Four of us would pile in her car - pitch in 50 cents each for gas and drive all night. Sigourney had a square. The courthouse was in the center and stores ringed the outside of the square. All of the kids spent their evenings circling that square in their cars. Sometimes we'd pull into parking spaces and chat, sometimes we'd go into the pizza place for supper, sometimes we'd make the full loop of the town - out the mile-away to the gravel road, back into the high school, down Pleasant Valley - out to the swimming pool - but we'd always end up back on the square.

She is the one that I skipped school with. It was senior year - second semester. Gym was last period and we hated gym class - so we left. We went to her house (her mom worked, mine didn't) and went up to her attic room and listened to music. I fell in love with Manhattan Transfer because of her. Then the day came that mom was pounding on her front door. She had a beautiful oval glass panel in the door and I could see mom's fury coursing through that door. We were caught. The gym teacher threatened to flunk me so I couldn't graduate, but the principal and I made a deal - absolutely no more absences from gym class and I would pass. The only 'D' slip I ever got was from that semester.

We haven't had much chance to talk on Facebook yet, but I certainly am thrilled to see her face again! And at my age, it's nice to bring back memories of younger years!

So much life

I was just standing outside with Leica on the leash watching the cars zoom by the house. Different cars, different people, all with something going on. The air was heavy with moisture, the grass green, squirrels running for the trees. Life! So much life!

One of the memories of mom's death was the shocking realization that there were just a few of us filled with the sensation of death and loss. The rest of the world was living! And at the worst moments of my days, there were people out there enjoying life, doing things that had absolutely nothing to do with death. It was hard to comprehend since I was mired in grief.

A few weeks after mom's funeral, a young man from our church was killed in a car accident. He had fallen asleep at the wheel and hit a bridge abutment. His family was plunged into grief, death and loss. When I heard about the accident, I was heading out to a movie with some friends and the realization of the sharp contrast between life and death came to me again.

Death happens once in a life, so we tend to anchor it in our memories. For many people the idea of holidays without their loved ones is painful, even for many years after the actual loss. Time is marked by the date of a death. The first Christmas, the first anniversary, the first birthday - all after a death has occurred. And years pass, while not so many dates happen every year, there are some that stand out in our memories. For me, a late spring snowstorm reminds me that in March 1987, we were brought to a standstill by a spring blizzard that occurred the day after mom died. March 27th doesn't get too far into the annals of history without me remembering that was the day that I watched her die. It's been 21 years and I still remember.

But, what about life! While one death occurs in a life, the life is filled with so much more than that! I don't want to focus on the loss of life, but on the exquisite beauty of the life that is lived well! As I stand outside among the chaotic sensations that life brings, I am thankful for a reminder that God is on the move, He is creating, He is filling our lives during every moment of our lives. There is so much life!

Dungeons and Dragons

Oh my, you read that right. My friends and part of my family are ready to toss me away. But yes, I have returned to the earliest known Diane gaming world. Max, Carol and I drove down to my brother's house after work today to see if it was even possible for us to begin playing the game again.

Here's the story.

Once upon a time, long, long ago in a town far, far away, a young girl graduated from college. With no immediate plans in her future, she moved home and got a couple of jobs. It so happened that she returned to the familial abode during the year of her brother's final high school grade. The little brat that had annoyed her for so many decades (ok, about 1.8) was actually interesting!

He and two of his friends were playing a strange game called "Dungeons and Dragons" and having a blast being creative. So, without further ado, she figured out how to make it more comfortable for them to play by adding music, atmosphere and food. She also learned to play the game with them.

Hours and hours of endless creative fun passed that year. The girl and her brother were able to become friends and peers. But, alas, he graduated and went to college and she left town for a job far away. Whenever they managed to be home together, sporadic games of D&D would occur, but it was never the same again.

I honestly just figured that with the rapid growth of computer role-playing games (RPGs) and then the onset of online RPGs, Dungeons and Dragons was a thing of the past. About 4 years ago, a rather strange young man came into the print shop and was copying player character sheets and maps for an adventure. Lo and behold, I found that the paper gamers were still quite active and in fact, the publishing company just released the 4th Edition of the Game.

I purchased the set: Dungeon Master's Guide, Monster Manual and Player's Handbook. I purchased some dice: 8-sided, 20-sided, 12-sided, 10-sided, 4-sided. Oh yes and a few regular six-sided die as well. Jim started designing his adventure for us and this evening we settled in with pizza, pop (diet mt. dew for me - 25 years ago, it was regular mt. dew and Hostess ho-hos. None of us can do that regularly now!) and books in hand.

We were lame. Many things have changed, many things were forgotten in the last 25 years. But, we had fun nonetheless. And the best part was introducing the game to my nephews and my husband. I need to study the Player's Handbook and get some of the rules under my belt again.

It's such a great way to spend an evening. There is constructive play, lots of conversation and you actually have to think creatively. I had a lot of fun, Max had never played before and thought it was fun. This is going to be a blast!

I'm a female Elvin Cleric. I can cast spells, heal, and wield a weapon. Now, how could life get better than that?

Religion? Church? Christian?

I've spent the better part of the last 48+ years believing that to be a good Christian, you have to attend church. Not just fellowship, but church. Dad was a huge proponent of people belonging to church. So, I did. And I bought into the whole 'church is the largest part of your faith-filled life' attitude.

I don't want anyone to think that this is another rant against the institutional church, though it may end up there. What I'm doing right now is processing information. That's actually why I haven't written much lately. I can't bring myself to tell you all that I'm processing on until I get to a point that it makes sense to me. The last thing I want to do is to encourage people to walk the path of confusion that I'm taking.

I begin to wonder if we have become so acculturated to attending church that we can't really think about what it looks like if we didn't actually go to a building on a Sunday morning and sit through a sermon and some songs. Before you freak out, I am not talking about removing a form of regular Christian fellowship from my life, but I am questioning what format it should take in my life.

James says (James 1:26-27) "If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

That's interesting to me - and quite challenging. James isn't talking about faith, he is actually talking about religion! Dictionary.com has quite a few definitions of religion, but the one that applies the best is: a specific fundamental set of beliefs and practices generally agreed upon by a number of persons or sect.

Wikipedia says "The term "religion" refers to both the personal practices related to communal faith and to group rituals and communication stemming from shared conviction."

Personal practices and group rituals and communication stemming from shared conviction.

It occurs to me that religion is developed by humanity. We band together to create a set of beliefs and practices, our shared conviction brings about communal faith rituals and communication. James tells us, though, that God actually has a prescription for religion. I don't know that I've ever seen this verse before - ok, maybe I just haven't paid attention.

But, I don't find myself actively doing any of those things: keeping a tight rein on my tongue, looking after widows and orphans or keeping myself from being polluted by the world. I suspect that attending church on a Sunday morning is much simpler than actually adjusting my behavior to match that which God is asking of me.

I don't know that I can accept that in myself or in people that I encounter on a Sunday morning any longer. I want so much more.

Oh please don't think I'm passing judgment on anyone. I'm certainly not. There are plenty of people who attend worship regularly on Sundays and are working like crazy to follow God's precepts. This is all about me. This is all about me not wanting to accept the easy religion. This is all about me trying to find out what God is asking of me personally.

Changes in my life lately? Wow. I feel like I've been splattered everywhere and I see all of the pieces laying on the ground. I'm putting the puzzle back together, piece by piece and I don't think it's going to look the same as it did before I started. That's kind of exciting!

Beautiful evening

Friday evening. 7:45 pm. Max and I have been driving across Iowa to find 'the shot.' We seem to do this a lot now that he has his camera. And, now that I have my laptop, I actually enjoy writing while we are out. I'm parked in a field in front of an old grain bin. Max has walked into the field next to me and set up his tripod.

We never know what we're going to find out here, we just keep looking until one or the other of us says 'how about that'?

I love Iowa. The sights, sounds, smells just fill my senses. Crickets, cicadas, birds, flies buzzing around, and even a frog croaking are sounds that fill my ears. As I look across the vista in front of me, I see the gold prairie grass and freshly mown green grasses. We are next to a soybean field and on the horizon there are rows of trees punctuated by farmsteads. The scents flowing through the car windows are of fresh grasses. There are sounds I can't identify, but for me it is beautiful.

Max likes to shoot pictures in the late afternoon, early evening and early morning. The shadows grow longer and give him interesting subjects to shoot. This is a peaceful time of day here, very little traffic and the wind of the day has settled down.

I think I need a nap. I was up late last night reading and writing. I'm warm right now with the late sun coming in the car window/ I could easily fall asleep. In fact, I am doing a lot more editing as I get droopier and droopier. My fingers forget where they are at on the keyboard. If I nod off, however, you won't even know it. The next words I type - whether they be within moments, minutes or hours will be the next words you read!

Last Friday we were out and came across a beautifully serene scene.A horse and a donkey were in a field grazing. The background was filled with trees, clouds in the sky and rich grasses. I pulled over, Max set up his tripod and began to prepare the picture. It was soon ruined however by the horse and donkey. They came trotting over to see Max in action and pose for the photographer. It was a riot! We didn't stay long after tht, but he did get a couple of shots of the kids posing.

The sun continues to set. Max continues to shoot. What a beautiful evening.

Weird Dreams

You know, I've told some of my friends that I have very strange dreams and I really enjoy them! In fact, they are generally more entertaining than television. A lot of my dreaming is based on books that I'm reading - the freakier, the better!

This morning I was in the middle of a dream stranger than most. Max woke me up as he was getting ready to leave and I tried to tell him I was having weird dreams, but he pretty much ignored me and went about doing his thing. Hmmmm ... I don't blame him (hehe).

However, this was entertaining enough that I have to share with you!

The whole family was at Bell's Dell (our cabin in north central Iowa). Jim had brought up some old D&D gaming things, with characters that I had developed years ago. I thought it was fun. Then, for some reason or other, he and I needed to leave to deal with something. We got in his van and at some point were on the interstate headed east. I looked up, the sky was bubbling in interesting colors and then, there was a huge dragon coming toward us. It opened it's mouth and whoosh! A blast of flame surrounded the van. We drove through it and the dragon continued its westward path. I looked at Jim and said, "I'm glad you're here to see this. Otherwise, no one would believe me!" He kept driving and another ... smaller dragon was in front of us. It opened its mouth, but we moved past it quickly and no more blasts of fire.

As I looked up there were immense creatures all over. They looked like the large balloons that you see in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, but were autonomous and nearly alive. There was an immense, cartoonish elephant rumbling down the opposite side of the interstate, scattering cars to the side.

I was trying to call Max (Jim had this awesome computer display in the visor of his car - don't ask, I make these things up in my dreams) to let everyone know what was happening. Jim turned off the interstate to head back to Bell's Dell. Whatever errand we were on was not nearly as important as getting back to our families. Along this 2 lane road, all of a sudden, there was an immense Spiderman that flew up beside us. He pulled ahead of us and began rapidly clapping his hands to stir up the air currents and throw us off course. It didn't work and he flew away.

By the time we got back to the cabin, there was a large group of people there. And for some reason, I was in serious trouble. These people were afraid of me and I found myself on a deck facing a wood chipper! I looked around the meadow and saw my family and a few friends. Carol got my attention to show me how they were planning to get me out of the situation. I just needed to hold them off for a few minutes. So, I began to preach! I called for my Bible. Someone found it and brought it to me and I started to preach on fear and the end of the world.

I kept looking at the wood chipper and thinking that this was not a pleasant way to die and I needed to get these people to turn their minds to something else.

And then ... I woke up.

I know where the wood chipper came from in the dream. I had been watching several episodes of "Bones" and that implement was used to spread skeletal parts around an area. Carol is at Bell's Dell this weekend and I've talked to her several times, so I know why that imagery is in my mind. But, the large balloon characters? Dragons on the interstate? Preaching on the end of the world? Yah. Got no idea.

Still Gotta Love the Weekend

Ok, my favorite thing about the weekend (and evenings for that matter) is that Max is around. Granted, the man is a geek and hangs out a lot in front of his computer, but it's kind of nice to be able to talk to him immediately rather than hope that he has time to answer a telephone.

Yesterday was great. He got home after work and we took off for Southwest Iowa. It's our favorite place (because it's close) to haunt with his camera. Leica is a pretty great traveling companion, the Jeep is a fabulous vehicle to take on the backroads of Iowa and my Kindle is good entertainment for me while Max is wandering ditches and highways looking for 'the shot.' He has finally gotten some photos that he has uploaded to Flickr.

When we first got married, his photography was his life. Every chance that we could, we were in the car and out driving so that he could shoot. We learned a lot about southwest Iowa ... a part of the state that I had never spent much time in. I think we hit every single historical marker in the area and it was a joy to find interesting sites and explore them. Max got some fabulous photographs at the time and one of these days we'll get those negatives scanned. But, until then, Max finally has a camera and lenses that make it fun for him to be shooting again.

Once I got involved in a church, our travels ended. Max got a job at CompUSA, his schedule changed, our lives got hectic and we simply didn't have time to traipse around on the weekends. I must admit that I am so grateful for the time to offer back to Max.

Freedom

I slept well last night. I was pooped. 'Hurricane Carol' hit my house with gale-force winds yesterday. She tells me that I am a packrat with a heart. She's right. It's not that I buy or try to collect a ton of stuff, mostly people give it to me and I can't get rid of it. But, I've been at the end of my rope for awhile and have been ready to purge. Yesterday, it began.

When I tell you that you have no idea how much stuff is in my house, you might think that I'm exaggerating. I'm not. It's incredible. I've lived in this place for nearly 19 years. My friends have been generous with me over the years (read: I get gifts that turn into stuff), my father began passing on family memories to me, before that I had accepted my mother's kitchen and life into my world and then my grandmother's kitchen stuff into my world. Carol has managed to move into smaller places every time she moves and I absorb more things when that happens (we don't mean for it to happen, it just does!). Max is the worst packrat I've ever met. I don't think the man understands the word 'trash.' If you know me at all, you know that is the one thing that I could pound him for ... but, I digress.

I'm going to go look at a cute little house on Saturday. The rent is higher than we are used to paying, but no one gets away with what I have gotten away with for 19 years. I've been darned lucky. By the time we're ready to move (whether it's this place or another), I hope to be down to nearly nothing.

Carol and I filled the back of my Jeep with stuff for Goodwill, the backseat with boxes for the storage unit (oh yeah ... there's more stuff from my world). After we got rid of that, we came back and Max showed up. So, we filled the back again with an incredible amount of computer parts, cases, etc. that we are taking to my nephews this evening. Jim said 'bring it.' Again, he has no idea how much he is getting. The back seat is filled with books that I'm going to take to my friends at church. I have another huge load of stuff for Goodwill that is being collected into a space so that it can go tomorrow and we're gathering more boxes and tubs for the storage unit.

Several years ago, Carol came over for a weekend and we did an immense purge of stuff - much of it to a 20 cubic yard dumpster. I don't have quite that much trash now ... it's just things that need to be in other people's lives.

I received this quote in my email this morning, "We have very little, so we have nothing to be preoccupied with. The more you have, the more you are occupied, the less you give. But the less you have, the more free you are." --Mother Teresa

She's right. Well, of course she is.

My First Love

I finished the second two books in the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. I'm so enraptured by these characters, I can hardly stand it. Edward Cullen (the vampire) is in love with Bella Swan (a very human girl). He is the perfect boyfriend. He stands as her eternal protector, but he is so concerned with her feelings and reactions that he is willing to set everything aside so that she is happy, even if it means being without her.

While it probably makes sense now that I should tell you about my first love, it's not in the way that you think.

God has taken me back into the book of Revelation. I can't believe I'm here again. I spent an interminable amount of time studying this book and all of the related commentaries and books I could get my hands on.

I've moved into Chapter 2, which begins with the letter to Ephesus. I know these letters intimately, I actually spent over a year just reading and studying them. In Chapter 1, verse 20, Jesus tells us the mystery of the seven stars and seven golden lampstands. The seven stars are the angels (or messengers) of the seven churches and the seven lampstands are the seven churches.

I was talking with a friend earlier about my disappointment with the institutional church and where God might be calling me right now. I haven't got answers yet, but I am spending time asking questions. I didn't know what asking those questions was going to get me into, though. I began reading this evening and didn't get past the letter to Ephesus.

This is a church that was very busy. They were known to Jesus. How? For their hard work and perseverance, they routed out false apostles, endured hardships for Jesus' name and had not grown weary. These were a hard-working bunch of Christians. Yet ... they had forgotten their first love. He told them to remember the height from which they had fallen! And then, to repent. If they didn't, he would remove the lampstand from its place. What was the lampstand? The church.

As I prayed, I began to realize how closely this church resembled me. I've spent many years being very busy, working hard and enduring hardships. Yet, I don't take time to think about the intimate loving relationship that I have with Jesus. I'm much too busy for that. I began weeping and weeping as I thought about the love portrayed in the story (Twilight) that I've been reading and how that barely begins to describe the relationship I have with Jesus!

As I cried out to Him and told Him that I wanted Him to be my protector and I wanted to feel the embrace of His mighty arms and the tenderness of His touch, I realized that many of us miss out on that intense set of emotions because we are filled with so many fears. Rejection, uncertain of the reality of His truth. Many of us have never experienced the raw power of complete love. A yearning that goes beyond anything physical. A yearning that reaches down to the very depths of our soul.

I remember trembling with excitement the first time a boy held my hand. We could barely look each other in the eyes, but soon, our fingers touched and our hands were clasped.

I remember the first time I had such an intimate moment with Jesus I thought I was going to burst. When He filled my heart and my mind and I didn't think that there could be anything else on this earth except me ... and Him.

This is exactly what Jesus was telling the church in Ephesus and what He is reminding me of tonight. As I began to picture Him waiting for me to draw into His arms, my tears continued to flow. But now they were tears of unbelief. That I am given the chance to be that close to Jesus - all the time. He wants to hold me with all of His strength. He wants to brush away my tears and whisper ageless words into my ears. He wants to tell me mysteries and express the love of Creation. He is the physical manifestation of the God who comforted David and protected Daniel, who guided Moses and led Joshua. Who spoke words of truth to Isaiah and Jeremiah and who taught Jonah and gave wisdom to Solomon.

He is my first love. How can I move from His arms to be busy again? I don't want to do anything else except to walk moment by moment in His will. Where He leads, I will follow. Where He tells me to go and what He tells me to do, I will obey. He is my first love.

What a Woman Sees

I am reading Revelation right now ... decided that I wanted to start over on that book. Obviously a year's worth of study in one book wasn't enough for me. And it's not! There is so much that I don't know yet about this final book in God's Word.

Ok ... anyway ...

I got stuck on Revelation 1:12-16, the description of Jesus Christ - the son of man.

"I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone "like a son of man," dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and out of his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance."

While I was reading this, I began to giggle a bit. I've also been reading the "Twilight" series by Stephenie Meyer. In it, a young woman falls for an absolutely gorgeous vampire. Meyer's descriptions of Edward Cullen (the vampire) are glorious! A reader can't help but completely fall in love with him. Throughout her books, she paints a picture of a young man that sparkles when sunlight falls on him, with smoldering eyes that are a liquid golden topaz, skin that is like marble, facial features that are perfect and angular, fingers that are slender, and a dazzling crooked smile.

It doesn't take long for Meyer to make the average woman fall completely in love with Edward Cullen. He is the perfect boyfriend, a gentleman in all ways, a protector, he is exciting and mysterious. I was originally quite astounded by the attention this series of books has received, but once I started reading them, I was quickly drawn into the story and the characters.

One of the things that we don't see in the Bible is a physical description of Jesus Christ. Many assumptions have been made regarding his appearance, but none of the Gospel writers felt that it was important to tell history what He looked like. The only time we get a description is when John sees Him in Revelation. And that image is like nothing we have seen on earth.

So if you were a writer and were trying to describe what Jesus Christ looks like, what would you say?

Good Morning!

It's 4:15 am and I am sitting in front of my computer. I should be sleeping? I was. In fact, I slept well tonight - the first good sleep I've had in awhile. The Air Conditioning is back on at the Muir household and I feel like a normal human being again. I hate to admit how out of control I get when heat and humidity oppress me, but there it is. My life has been strange for over a week ... just a lot of things going on and with the fact that I've had no air conditioning, I haven't even been in my home for at least that long. Do you know how weird it is to be in Omaha and not go home? Yeah, I don't like it.

But, right now I feel rested and content and finally a yearning to spend time in the quiet with God. Oh. The other part of being all 'out of the ordinary' is that I was constantly around someone. Anyone, everyone. I was never alone. A lot of it was Max and I love him more than life itself, but don't forget. I'm a hermit at heart. And we hermits need definite alone time with a little bit of air conditioned comfort! Today is going to be a great day!

I took Leica in for dental work and the removal of two fatty tumors from her chest yesterday. After I dropped her at the veterinarian in the morning, I came back to my very warm house. I sat in front of a few fans and it was tolerable. Ichabod was awfully glad to see me and get a chance to hang out with me. I had ordered a Kindle from Amazon.com and it showed up about 10:30. That meant that this girl didn't do anything at all. In fact, I had to drag myself away from the thing at 2:45 to make a sandwich to calm the growling of my stomach. I can't believe I am going to be able to feed my reading addiction again. It is a most wonderful tool.

Whoops ... I got distracted. You don't know it, but a bit of time has passed since I typed the last paragraph. I was praying, heard God tell me to get to my Bible, realized that I could put one on my Kindle and ended up at Amazon.com. I know, I know ... He meant the Bible that sits on my desk. But, right now it's stuck in a bag somewhere. And yes, I know full well, that God wasn't encouraging me to purchase one more thing. But hey, give a girl a break! While I was there, I decided that I really needed Lee Strobel's, "Case for a Creator." Ummm ... yup, this is going to be a problem.

So - off I go. I'm going to have to turn a light on at this point so that I can actually read and communicate with God through His Word. But, it's cool in the house, I've had 5 hours of sleep and I can get a few more when we're done chatting!

Customer Service Rant

Yup ... this is going to be a full-blown rant. If you don't want to read my whining and complaining, it won't hurt my feelings.

I have spent 4 hours today on the telephone with customer service from various retail suppliers. For the most part, they all stand out as hideous, but two companies have nearly pushed me over the edge of sanity: Capital One and Newegg.com. Both will receive letters of complaint from me, but I can guarantee that neither will care.

I try to be patient with companies that have many customers trying to get information, but at some point, my patience is replaced with fury. I'm tired of having my calls shunted to a customer service center in another country. I understand the need for inexpensive customer service care and I understand that these call centers in other countries are trying to provide training, etc., but I've had it! I don't want to have to explain myself several times to make myself understood. I don't want to have to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to understand what someone is saying to me. I don't want to have to explain all of the reasons for my request.

At some point, this customer service person is simply reading off a script and when presented with a question that can't be answered by the script in their repertoire, they repeat one of the previous answers ad nauseum. Because of cultural and language differences, there is no leap of understanding that is made by the representatives.

Last night on my way to dinner, I called Capital One to find out why my funds had been put on hold. I had made a large payment on Thursday, and all of a sudden on evening, no longer had access to funds in my account. I was told that because I had made such a large payment, they would be putting my funds on hold for 10 days!

Are you kidding me? Because I pay attention, I knew that the funds would be removed from my bank account today. I pushed and pushed the representative, who kept repeating the same information back to me. I finally got furious and demanded to speak to a supervisor. After a 15 minute wait on hold, I was told that the account supervisors were no longer there. Well, duh - during that wait, the hour had changed. I just hung up. I tried again this morning. And after waiting and waiting, giving my account information to 4 different people and moving back and forth between foreign speaking people and others, I finally got to a person who told me (after a 1/2 hour wait to get to her) that they had transferred me to the wrong department. I freaked out again.

I'm certain that these representatives don't want to have to deal with furious customers, but let me just ask how they can expect anything different? I had been on the phone for over an hour, been transferred through 4-5 systems, given my credit card number, PIN number, home phone number, ok ... they had my life ... each time I was transferred and then I'm told that I had the wrong department.

The automated phone system kept telling me that they cared about my call, that they had higher than normal call volume. I don't believe they care and I don't care if they have a high call volume, it should be their job to hire enough to meet that call volume.

Capital One is losing me as a customer and there will be a letter explaining how disgusted I am with their customer service.

By the way, I've discovered that when calling India - I get excellent background music while on hold - when I'm into an American system, the background music is filled with static. The music will change back and forth as I'm transferred through these systems. Drives me insane. Do they think we're stupid?

As for Newegg.com? Well, they kind of have you over a barrel. There simply aren't great ways to purchase computer systems. This group has the most insane verification process I've ever seen. You can't ship anything to a second address without them freaking out. I had to call Capital One back (don't even ask - I wanted to kill for this requirement) and add a friend's address so that Newegg could ship to this person. Excuse me, what? I have worked with numerous (and it's more than that number) online retailers and this has NEVER happened before. Yet, again, when I pushed the issue, I kept receiving the same statement: the shipping address must be verified by your credit card company.

It really didn't change anything. It simply made things more of a pain in the butt for me. I had to call Capital One, deal with another foreigner that couldn't understand what I was asking for, add a temporary address to the credit card, then call Newegg back and tell them that I had done that. Shipping!!! Not billing. Shipping!

Yes, they have great prices, but no ... they have lousy customer service. Adding a shipping address to my credit card does not prevent fraud - it just makes me annoyed.

I dealt with Amazon.com and Jeep's customer service today. I've been on the phone with my bank and numerous other retail establishments as well today. And, I'll be honest. With both Amazon and Jeep, I know that I was dealing with foreign customer services. When I hear, "I wish you have a good day," I know that he doesn't know my language. I wanted to scream, but I put my patient voice back into my mouth and just dealt with the annoyance.

The training must be much better for Amazon and Jeep, though. I was able to get questions answered and the young man at Amazon took excellent care of me as quickly as he could.

So, why the public rant? Because I also know that these companies search the internet for their name and links to their names. I'm freakin' sick and tired of lousy customer service and if people let them know how disgusted they are by this behavior, it has a better chance of changing than if we just allow it to happen with no pushback. I'll be pushing back.

Gotta love Wifi

We are back in Webster City ... at a hotel ... with a shower ... and wifi!! My brother pulled the shower out of our cabin last fall and we are still working on the plan to replace it. Consequently, I refuse to sleep there. At some point in my day I need to have hot running water. Alright, it's not so much a refusal as it is a chance to hide for a night and offer the rest of my family a shower tomorrow.

We were up here a month or so ago and in a different hotel which advertised wifi and the stupid girls at the customer service desk couldn't figure out how to make it work. I wanted to send my half-nekkid husband down there and simply have him unplug and re-plug in their router, but I figured that internet wasn't worth the effort of bailing him out of jail. We are at a different hotel this evening and not only is there easily accessible internet, but it's also much nicer. Score!

What a great day we've had. We were a little concerned since none of us had been up to the cabin since the Iowa flooding happened last month. The meadow had every possibility of being a complete mess with debris littered throughout. That would require an enormous amount of work from all of us as we tried to clean it up so that it could be mowed. But, yea! the meadow looked pretty good and the grass wasn't as tall as we worried it might be. See ... worry gets you nowhere.

I have the best family. I'm not kidding you! There are three of us kids - my sister, Carol and my brother, Jim who has 3 kids with his wife Janet. The eight of us truly enjoy being with each other. In fact, we miss each other a lot when we wait too long to hang out. Max, Jim & Janet took off this afternoon for Fort Dodge and came back with a fire pit grill. So, Jim grilled steaks over hickory wood for dinner! Oh my goodness - better than any restaurant!

Carol mowed the meadow, I watched Jake play video games, Matthew talked to his girlfriend on the phone, Emma texted her friends and took a nap, the dogs played ... great day.

After dinner we congregated in the screened-in front porch to laugh and enjoy each other. Of course, no matter where we tried to take the conversation, it always ended up with poop. Good heavens, we could not leave that conversation to save our lives. But, you know what? I've come to the conclusion, that everything ends up as poop.

We'll head back in the morning for more fun, lots more food and probably more poop conversations. We are also planning how to renovate and re-energize the cabin. We are a little excited as we think about finding ways to make it look nice and be more useful for small and large groups.

Max and I are staying in the same hotel we stayed at last year when we were here for Dad's funeral. It was kind of strange walking in here - the last time I was here, I was caught up in strange emotions. It's interesting to think about how time changes our outlook on things.

Max has taken his shower. It's my turn. Goodnight!

Thank You

As I was processing on my last post, it occurred to me that some of you who are reading this deserve my thanks.

I have friends who are there for me through thick and thin.

I have friends whom I have grown closer to in just the last few months.

I have friends whom I could never live without, even though we don't see each other regularly.

I have friends that challenge me in many different ways. To think thoughts bigger than I might have ever thought.

I have friends that encourage me.

I have friends that are excited for me.

I have friends that believe in me.

I have friends that would lay down their lives for me.

I have friends that offer all they have to me.

I have friends that teach me different aspects of living, different ways of thinking.

I have friends that teach me about tolerance.

I have friends that stir my passions.

I have friends that expand my horizons.

I have friends that pray for me.

If you read this, and think that I might be talking about you. I am. I cannot believe the gifts that God has given me in my friends. Thank you for allowing Him to work through you in my life.

To say Thank You.

One thing that I'm exceptionally grateful for is the ability to be ... well ... grateful. I think that this is one of the most astounding gifts that my parents gave me. We didn't grow up with much. When I think back to my childhood, it was pretty barren in comparison to what I see children with today. I distinctly remember standing at an endcap of a store looking at an Etch-a-Sketch and being told that we didn't have money to buy that. Such a simple toy and there was no money. Mom would spend hours creating amazing toys for us to play with. She was a fabulous artist and I remember how she would create gorgeous paper dolls on tagboard. We would cut them out and then create clothing for them from stacks of paper. You see, mom loved to write and she would type all of her stories and poems and lessons, so there were always reams of paper around the house. Carol and I would sit for hours designing gowns and outfits along with hats and shoes for the paper dolls mom had created. A pile of paper, a bunch of crayons and some scissors was all it took.

Since we were a pastor's family in small towns, the church community took care of us in wonderful and weird ways. One church made a huge deal at Christmas over us. One year, there were small red stockings hanging on the Christmas tree at the church with each of our names on them. Mom and Dad both received cash, but the three of us kids received hundreds of pennies in our stockings. We were awfully small and thought we had incredible wealth poured on us. Another year, they pulled back a curtain and there was a beautiful wing chair. They gave us a television one year and a stereo (yes, with an 8-track player in it) another year. It was awkward standing in front of the congregation while these gifts were given to us. But, mom and dad taught us how to say thank you. Because you see, the gifts weren't about us, they were about the love that the congregation had for Dad.

Gifts are rarely about the receiver. They generally describe the heart and soul of the giver. It's the connection between the two - the giver and the receiver - that makes a gift fabulous.

I remember a few 'awful' gifts. One year for her birthday, dad gave mom a wheelbarrow. He desperately needed one at the cabin and didn't have the money to spend on two separate things. It was either the wheelbarrow or a birthday gift for her. She cried. Fortunately, she had a great sense of humor, too and within a few days, it was a classic family story.

As soon as I was old enough, Dad began to rely on me to actually deal with mom's gifts. She loved Chanel No. 5 perfume. By the time I was purchasing gifts for her, Dad planned a little better and saved enough money to send me to Corner Drugstore to purchase a bottle for her, wrap it up and have it ready at dinner that evening. She cried, but this time, I believe they were tears of relief.

Parishioners have given us many strange gifts over the years. We would receive wonderful produce from their gardens - one woman gave us 200 pounds of potatoes. You might think I would hate potatoes after all of that, but mom learned to use them in many ways and to this day, it's a favorite staple. One day I came home from school and on the dining room table - in a vase - were two cow's tongues. Someone had given them to Dad and he thought it was a howl. Mom didn't, but she did cook them up for dinner that evening. Nope, I don't like tongue. Another time, we received a batch of pig's brains. I'm not really sure whose sick joke that was, but mom was never one to throw away good food.

That night at dinner, she set the table with candles and the fine china and silver. When we asked what we were having, she informed us that it was "Cerebral Delight." You know what? We had no idea what she meant, we were much too young and we liked it!

We three kids were always told who had brought us gifts and food and were asked to please say 'thank you' the next time we saw the person, which generally happened within a week at some church function.

Mom never let us get through Christmas Day without writing thank-you letters to our grandparents and anyone else who had given us gifts. In the morning, we opened gifts, there was lunch and generally a nap and before we took off or did anything else in the evening, we were required to write out our letters. We wrote thank yous for everything that was given to us from our grandparents. Mom didn't care what they said, as long as 'thank you' was in the message. Let me tell you, I've seen a few of these letters and they were insane babbling from very young children. But, as soon as we could write, we were writing them.

I'm grateful for that training. It makes it easy for me to say thank you - sometimes I forget, but I do try. And it makes it easy for me to say those words to God regularly. I want to be seen as a grateful person. I want people to hear those words from me. I want God to know how much I am thankful for all that He has done. Because I am a fortunate woman. I have been given much.

Things are Happ'nin

Oh my, but it's been an eventful weekend. Lots of things happening around the Muir household, but the biggest news is that Max and I are planning to move. Oh, we're staying in Omaha ... but, outta this duplex and into a small rental home somewhere here in midtown. We've just started the process of thinking about this - and let me tell you, packing and cleaning out is going to KILL ME! I suppose that since I'm making all sorts of changes in my life, I may as well continue with the insanity, eh?

God told me last year that I had 10 years to make myself mobile. I knew that part of that meant that I was suppose to get rid of my stuff. And let me tell you, I have a lot of stuff! But, I'm certainly tired of it. As I've been wandering around the house putting some of that stuff in boxes, I find that I simply don't care about it. Oh, there are some things that have been gifts to me from family and close friends. Those things still mean something, but the rest of it? Not at all.

So, I need boxes - not to pack for moving, but to pack for Goodwill. This is going to be awesome. Though I've heard others talk about the glory of moving so that they can purge the excess from their lives, I knew that for me, I just might die before I was able to do that on a regular basis. I was wrong. I'm going to live through this.

I look forward to being able to exist without thinking about dusting and looking at the stupid things in my life. I've opened drawers and found things that I haven't seen in years. In years! If it has been that long in my life, why in the world am I keeping it. Oh, for heaven's sake, Carol and I have a storage unit where we store more stuff from our past. That's going to be an ugly day in my life when we have to go through that as well.

I'm even going to purge books. One of these days I'm getting the Kindle and I hope to store as many books electronically as possible. Max and I think it would be great if we could get our entire lives down to a couple of computers and clothes plus essentials. Is it possible? Oh, sure it is. Will it happen soon? Doubtful. But, in 10 years? Well, if God is pushing me to get busy right now to start shedding the stuff - I guess in 10 years He will find a way to get me to shed the rest of it.

So really ... anyone want a Department 56 Christmas village? Alright, alright - I'll put it up on Craig's list unless I hear from you.

Bye bye stuff!

When the Lights Go Out

I've slept through the last three storms. I have no idea how this happens, I'm not usually a deep sleeper.

We were planning to go out last night about 9:00, so I felt that a quick nap wouldn't be a bad idea. I lay down on the couch about 4:00, turned on NCIS and fell asleep with the fan blowing and the television on. I watched a little bit, drowsed in and out for awhile and the next thing I was aware of was wild winds. I opened my eyes to look at the clock and saw nothing. I tried to concentrate and realized that I didn't have any power. We had the front window open and poor Ichabod was sitting on the ottoman in front of the window. He looked at me with panic in his eyes and came dashing over to land on top of me.

I was still trying to make sense of the situation when Max came down the stairs. He was a bit shook up and shut the window for me. The two of us sat in the living room listening to the wind roaring around the house. As he watched it, he brought up memories of Hurricane Hugo when he lived in Charlotte, NC.

A few minutes later, the worst of it was over and within a short period of time, the clouds were breaking up and sun was coming through. We began to see the devastation that had happened around the neighborhood.

After a while, we decided to head to Carol's apartment. I hadn't been able to reach her, so I thought I might check on her. I tried her cell phone one more time while we were on the road. She answered. Hmmmm... the nut had left it in her car. She was fine and had power. Off we went to spend the evening with electricity and some entertainment.

Carol and I drove around a bit while foraging for supper. I'd never seen anything like it. Not only were trees uprooted but traffic lights were spun around, signs were destroyed, debris was everywhere.

At 10:30, Max and I came home to sleep in our own beds. It was a strange sight looking over the city of Omaha and seeing only darkness. There were pockets of lights, but it all felt quite eerie. Streets were blocked off because of downed trees and I began to wonder if we were going to be able to get back to our home. We turned south on our street and as we drove, it began to feel as if we were in what I can only call a war zone. A few scattered homes had lights on, but there was debris all over, trees were down, street lights were off, traffic lights weren't working.

Once inside, we lit candles and turned on the radio. It was nice to have sounds from the outside world coming into our home. I fell asleep on the couch. Sounds began to happen at some point and woke me up. I had turned off a lot of the things downstairs, but didn't turn the power off to the cable box. I shook myself awake again and realized that the power was back on and by golly, the cable was on as well!

Max experienced a hurricane when in Charlotte. Three straight hours of those high winds. We saw it for just a few minutes. I have a new appreciation for the power of nature. We were without power for a short period of time, it could have been much worse. Thank you God for being with us through it all.

Adventure and Excitement

When I feel creative, I tend to want to watch adventure movies. Because of my addiction, that generally lends itself towards science fiction. "Star Wars" (episodes IV, V and VI only) tend to be the movie of choice for me. But, since I'm at home and can leave the movie in while I'm working around the house, I've already spent a day with those movies in. Today it's "The Lord of the Rings."

Movies that take my thoughts out of a life lived in central Omaha.

Given a chance, my mind loves to soar beyond the limitations that life places on me. I see communities on planets far away, I see excitement in the alley ways of cities I've never been to. I see villains and monsters, vampires and dragons, murder and thievery. But bec ause of the life that I lead, I always see hope.

I develop characters and scenes in my mind. Sometimes I get them written down - sometimes they just play there until I can process on how they might fit into a story.

Fiction is a joy. It allows the mind to think in bigger pictures than the commonness of every day life. It causes us to see big ideas in small chunks so that we can absorb them into our being. Science fiction has given ideas to inventors and scientists.

Today my mind is flying ... I wonder where I'll go!

Cool Water

It's late ... my house warmed up today and I didn't pay attention until it was too late. So now I'm trying to get it cooled down. That's what happens in old brick buildings with no insulation. That's beside the point. So, I've got a cold bottle of water in front of me and the condensation is dripping all over the place. Welcome to Nebraska with it's heat and humidity.

When my sister in law, Janet moved out here several years ago, she moved from Colorado. Their first summer here, she just got mad all the time when she would find glasses of ice water dripping on her furniture. She simply did not want to accept that summer in Omaha was different than summer in Colorado where there was no humidity. She bought a lot of coasters that summer and over the years has finally grown to accept it like the rest of us have. I don't like it much either, but it's what I have to live with.

I was looking through my Bible today for a passage about service. One of the passages that I came across was from Matthew 10. Ok, that one's beside the point, too. As I was reading through the entire passage, though, I came to the end of it ... Matthew 10:42. "And if anyone gives a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward."

When Jesus met with the woman from Samaria, he asked her for a cool drink of water. It was right there in the well, waiting to be drawn and offered to him. It was a gift she could give freely.

I love water. Years ago, I dated a young man who was doing a fellowship at Stanford while studying hydrodynamics. We talked a lot about water. I began to consider the power of water. It really is incredible. We've seen its destruction in the midwest as enormous amounts of water moved with power that isn't often seen.

There used to be a saw mill in the Boone River not far from our cabin. The movement of the water turned the mill wheel. Powerful.

Water dilutes, water is a solvent, water hydrates. All life requires water. Mesopotamia was the cradle of civilization because humanity congregated near water - near the Tigris and Euphrates.

When I turn on the water flow in the kitchen, I've been known to stare at it and simply thank God for this gift. It washes the grime from my hands, yet the same water quenches my thirst. It cleans the dishes and I use it to boil noodles.

I take water for granted sometimes, but Jesus didn't. He knew that cool water would nourish thirsty travelers who had been walking dusty roads. At the end of all of it, though, he offered living water. That would quench a thirst that we might not even recognize.

Shivering Dog

As I sat at my desk this afternoon, the storm increased in power. Thunder was crashing, lightning was flashing and poor Leica was shivering. I reached out to her and she practically leaped across a few feet into my arms. I gathered her up and wrapped a blanket around her and held her while she shivered in terror. She had no idea what the crashing and banging was all about, but she knew it frightened her. Max came home from work in the middle of it and when he walked into the room, she started whining. The poor girl was so glad to see him, you could sense that she wanted both of us to comfort her.

I'm training my cat, Ichabod. When I lie down on the couch, he generally lies on my chest and gets close to my face. If I don't pay attention to him, he'll take one paw and gently brush my cheek. It's kind of cute. So, I've decided that since I like it when he does that, I'm not going to touch him until he puts his paw on my face. He touches me, I pet him. He pulls his paw back, I stop. He is learning to leave his paw there so that I will love him and stroke him. It's adorable.

My animals do a pretty good job of explaining our relationship with God. When I'm afraid I leap into God's arms. I have no idea what all of the crashing and banging is about, but I know that it frightens me. I need to be comforted by something bigger than me, someone who understands what the big picture is and isn't afraid of it. I know that a thunderstorm isn't going to hurt us, it's just a lot of loud noise that will pass in a short time. God knows that the things I am afraid of won't hurt me in the long run. It's generally just a lot of loud noise that will pass in a short time. So, He can comfort me and assure me when I'm shivering in fear.

Psalm 27 is awesome:

The Lord is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life - of whom shall I be afraid? (vs. 1)

One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek,
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and seek him in his temple.
For in the days of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock. (vs. 4-5)

As for Ichabod? I like thinking about God playing games with me. Waiting for me to reach out and touch Him so that He can caress me. He doesn't hold back for any reason other than to engage in the game with me. We're having fun, we're enjoying each other. We laugh for awhile at the game and then when it's over ... I can rest in His arms ... where I'm safe.

It's a great place to be. I like the peace and safety.

Lots of Things

I've had a lot of things rolling around in this little brain today.

I love technology. But I find that I begin to rely on it and when it fails, I'm frustrated. I wasn't frustrated before I had it ... so, why do I get frustrated now?

I will never know enough to satiate my desire for knowledge. I certainly don't mind the hunt for knowledge, but when I realize that there are areas of learning that I didn't even realize I was missing out on, it traumatizes me!

Mysticism and superstitions are fascinating, but sometimes I'm too grounded in the real to allow those things to bubble up in my thoughts.

Truth should be unyielding, but it seems to be different things to different people.

I've been hearing and reading too much about how busyness has the effects of a drug. We are addicted to it and can't learn to slow ourselves down. That makes me feel better about my decision to stop the insanity. Now, if I can just translate that into reality.

I spend time thinking about how I can do 'thus and so' when I have completed 'this and that.' It's time to just figure out how to do what I want really want to do - without waiting for things to fall into place.

I could never be a dog. Though Leica loves her life - sleeping in the sun, crawling under covers, chasing rabbits, snuggling with us - I couldn't be like that. I want to fill my mind with all sorts of nonsense.

I didn't realize how much of a hermit I really am. The fact that I don't mind having my husband upstairs on video chat with me downstairs tells me something about that.

The television has been off for several days and it's been pretty cool. A lot more music, a lot more words on paper.

George Carlin died yesterday. Memory: My first boyfriend ... whoops, second boyfriend. 1972. Settee in my living room. He brought the raunchy comedic records. We sat on that settee holding hands while he introduced me to Carlin's "Seven Dirty Words," Cheech and Chong and a little Bill Cosby. I was pretty sheltered from that stuff.

Those are the things that stand out in my mind from today's thought processes. I don't need to share everything - there are some things you just don't need to know. Trust me.

Vampires, Video and Vegging

What a great weekend. I certainly wasn't acting like a true American this weekend. I did absolutely nothing that was productive in the normal scheme of things.

I started reading fiction again. I'm in the middle of "The Historian" by Elizabeth Kostova. It's been sitting on a shelf for a couple of years. I've had no time to read this. The book is messing with my dreams. It deals with the history of Dracula. Vlad the Impaler. Whether or not you believe he is a vampire, that man was quite evil. Just thinking about the various ways he murdered thousands of people is enough to disturb anyone's dreams. I have a very vivid imagination and I've had to stop myself from visualizing some of the descriptions she offers. However, it doesn't stop my subconscious from retelling the story in my dreams. Wow. Good book.

I've been so far away from bookstores lately, that I've completely missed a reading phenomenom. The series "Twilight" by Stephenie Meyer seems to be taking the world by storm and I've missed it. You know I hate to miss anything! Looks like that will be next on my reading list.

Max and I set up a new communication source this weekend. I can video chat with my family! You can too. oovoo.com has a fabulous video chat client. It's free if you only want to chat with two others, and it looks to be pretty inexpensive to add up to 5 others to the chat. So, I stayed up late last night chatting with Matthew and this morning he set my sister up as well. I was able to talk to her a couple of times today. Heck we'd normally talk on the phone, but this way we can see each other and show each other things we're working on. No, it's not as hands free as a cell phone, but as long as we're working at the computer - it's cool. And of course we can still hear each other if we're out of eye-shot. Pretty awesome.

As for vegging. I haven't actually watched much television. It's been the book and me on the couch unless I'm online typing the deep and the trite.

A friend had told me I needed to write a vampire novel from the perspective of a Christian. I have absolutely no idea how that is possible. Contemporary literature treats vampires as misunderstood or incredibly evil. How do you give the undead a soul? I've been processing on this for a few weeks and I have no answer yet. It would make a great novel if I could figure it out. I'm not giving up, though. It makes for terrific mind-wandering exploration.

Did I sleep in?

Well, not as long as I would have liked, but my bladder was screaming, the dog was begging and Max was hungry. Gahhhh. However, I did get to stay up until 3 am with no guilt. You need to know how much I smiled as I typed that sentence!

A friend asked what my plans were for the day. Well, let's see. I've got music playing - lots of 70s/80s rock: Journey, Foreigner, Foghat, YES, Styx, Queen, B52s, Supertramp, ELO, Three Dog Night, Doobie Brothers, Moody Blues, Traffic, Phil Collins, Toto, Stray Cats, Heart, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Boston. That's the playlist for the day - on random. And it's loud!

I have some books I want to read, I'll start cleaning and puttering around the house, I'll make dinner tonight, and I just want to 'not concentrate' on anything so my brain can randomly start pulling thoughts together. I'll need to keep a notepad handy for that process.

BTW, anyone want my Department 56 Christmas Village collection? It needs a good home. (hehe - no, I'm not kidding).

Tomorrow Morning

I talked to my brother earlier today. I told him I only had an hour left to work. And that the first thing I was looking forward to was sleeping in tomorrow morning. Because this gets to be my reality from now on! I choose my hours, I choose the time that I sleep and I choose when I work. I don't know that I've ever had those choices. Ever! There has always been someone in control of my daily life. And now ... there is not. Whee doggies!

Jim laughed at me. The idea of working until 3 am is not appealing to him. He likes to wake up at 5 am and get to work. You know, it's so weird. When we were growing up, Jim was always in bed early. Mom never really had to argue with him to get him to bed by 8 pm. When we go over to his house for holidays, by 10:00, Jim has turned into a pumpkin. He quits talking and pretty soon, doesn't even say goodnight, but goes to bed.

If I'm foolish enough to sleep on their couch, I am awakened at 6:00 or so when he can stand it no longer and heads to the kitchen to start working on breakfast. Most mornings, though, he's polite enough to head to his office and work on stuff until 7:30. At that point, we're all fair game.

The first Christmas in their new house - maybe 6 or 7 years ago, Max and I showed up really late on Christmas eve after doing services at church. Matthew was still pretty young and was quite excited. He had stayed up waiting for us to pull in and we did - about 1:30 in the morning. We unloaded the gifts and Max headed downstairs to find a bed to crash on. Matthew and I hung out in a couple of recliners they had upstairs. We tried and tried and tried to go to sleep. But, no such luck. He was so excited, he couldn't shut up! It had been a lot of years since I'd pulled an all-nighter and I was very thankful that Christmas came early that year. I definitely had a nap.

I am not a morning person. In one of my first jobs, I had to be at work at 8:30. I was pretty young and was working as a Christian Ed and Music Director at Spencer Grace UMC in Iowa. The rest of the staff finally figured it out that I was useless until 9:00. So, I took my mail (this was long before email) and a soda into the my office and no one bothered me.

Mom used to argue with me about it. She told me that if I was awake, I needed to be pleasant. I informed her that it wasn't my choice to be awake. That didn't go over well. I learned to be much more pleasant. At least on the outside.

For the last 6 months I've had to be at work by 7:00 am - Max and I are at one vehicle and he needed to be at work by 7:30. The only good thing about that was the amount of work I could get done before anyone else got to the office and the fact that I had at least an hour by myself so I had an hour to get nice before I had to talk to anyone.

Tomorrow morning? I'm not getting up. And I'm not getting up early any day this next week. I have a lot to do around the house, but I'm going to do it in my own time. This is going to be awesome!