Real Mom

Now that is a cute and funny photo, but it got me thinking of a subject that is very close and important to my heart: Adoption. I would also like to take this opportunity to remind you that November is National Adoption month, with National Adoption Day falling on November 19th, see here.

I always bristle a little at the term "real mom" and I will explain why. I am adopted, and when many people find that out, they ask me if I know my real mom. Once in a while they say "real parents" but 97% of the time it's the mom they're the most curious about. It's natural to be curious and I know that people mean no disrespect when they say "real" parent. Here is how my reply goes:

Well, I actually consider the parents that raised me to be my "real parents" because they are the ones that were there every day of my life for all the colds and fevers, scraped knees, school plays, graduations, etc. If you mean do I know my biological parents, the answer is no. Though I do have a HUGE amount of affection and respect for them and their unselfish decision to give me up for adoption, I have never met them.

My parents had a very organic approach to the disclosure of adoption, and I simply recall always knowing I was adopted, it was never revealed to me at a certain age or anything like that. One of the dearest people in my life, my first babysitter Nan* says that my parents had these adoption storybooks, and when she'd babysit me, she'd read them and cry because it was so touching. I vaguely remember those books. My parents tried for children for about 10 years thorough various biological and medical means, and then the lengthy adoption process, so they were elated when they finally were able to adopt me and then my little brother.

Lately my two younger children, Calvin* (age 8) and Flora* (age 12) have been asking questions about my real mom. After doing my real mom spiel two times, I had a little epiphany and used Our Boy* that darn dog that they love so much. (The above picture reminded me of all this.) I asked Calvin and Flora, "Who is OurBoy's real family? Is it your old friend Sarah who's pet dog had the litter OurBoy came from? Or is it us, who adopted him when he was a little puppy and have been with him, taking care of him ever since? This drove the point of adoption home for them and helped them understand the distinction between biological and adoptive and what is "real." I mean to say that both are "real" but I believe it is important to make that distinction and give each kind of parent, both biological and adoptive, the proper respect and position within the life of the adoptee. Being a parent takes a great amount of unselfish love, I am blessed to say that I have experienced that kind love in some very special ways, through the woman who decided to give me up, and through the parents who took me in. Both kinds of parents are real. Whomever fulfilled the role of parent, in the day to day, year to year, decade to decade reality of life, well, to me that is actual and real in a way that makes biology, with all due respect, a smaller part of the equation in my life. I wouldn't be here, or be the person I have become without the decisions my adoptive and my biological parents made and the roles they fulfilled in my life. One is not more important than the other. You can't take out of the equation the huge, intensely personal decision my biological mother/parents made at the beginning of my life, nor the lifetime of care and parenting my adoptive parents undertook. I understand that there are different adoption experiences, which make this more of a complicated subject for many, I can only speak for myself.

Autumn Playlist Revisited

I'm in a mood for the music that for one reason or another reminds me of the Autumn season. This is something began compiling several years back, and added some and deleted some. What songs remind you of the Fall season? Why? Feel free to share as many or as few details as you like but definitely share the song and artist names so we can check them out.

Funny Friday

This is silly. I didn't LOL but I smiled real big and almost snickered a few times.

Hodgepodge & Funny Friday

What I've been eating/craving:



10 Songs I've Been Listening To Recently




Stuff that has made me laugh:




Umm, yeah but lose the apron.

Columbus Day

I have to admit to having huge a personal bias toward Columbus Day. It's not due to patriotism, though I love my country. It really stems from the fact that quite often during my school career I would have my birthday off from school because it fell close to Columbus Day. Anyway the following video has been circulating:



My first inclination is to sympathize and agree with the sentiment and opinions put forth in that video. When one really tries to take a sober look at history and the times, I have to admit that I take a more moderate view, which I found nicely expressed in this article, though I do not agree with everything that author Rick Bayan said either. The birth of one civilization was often at the expense of another, cultures and peoples were overtaken and absorbed, it's messy business, rife with strife. We can no more blame Columbus for shifting the scales of progress than any of the ancients (Rome, Goths, Mongols, etc.). They all had their barbarism and their progressive points; all leaving their mark on civilization, in both good and bad ways. Surely Columbus was no saint, but to liken him to dictators and madmen of the modern age, such as Hitler and Pol Pot, as some are now doing is not entirely accurate. The "Reconsider Columbus Day" video does not go that far. No amount of apologizing can un-spill that old milk, and no amount of inaccurately presenting history will help either. The fact remains that Columbus was the first to gain widespread access to a world that was very new to Europeans. Vikings may have landed first but they didn't stay or last, and as much as I lament the fact that there is no acceptable day to wear my horned helmet and blond-braided wig, unless one is a Minnesota fan you're just out of luck. Anyway, we are not celebrating what kind of person Columbus was, or his purposes and intentions, but that he built the highway that brought most of us here, one way or another. I'm pretty much glad to be here, are you? What we can do is press on toward a better future as the framers of the U.S. Constitution had hoped, even in the light of the slavery and inequality many abhorred even then as they wrote those words that govern us still, toward a better future for all. I hope that we will soon establish a day where the native and ingenious cultures of America are celebrated, along with all our other special days: Flag, Independence, Thanksgiving, Dr. King, Labor, Presidents, Veterans, and so on, even old Columbus.

In the region where I live, it has been years since the school holiday has been celebrated as such. For close to 2 decades now, it is merely designated as a "No-Work/No-School/No-Paid Holiday/Hurricane Make-up Day".

On a side note, the Tostino's commercial that was linked in Bayan's article was rather funny.

Steve Jobs

I heard it said Steve Jobs was the Edison of the electronic age, and the John Lennon of technology. Our family enjoys our ipods and iphones and have been impacted positively by his genius. I really enjoyed the anecdote of his I placed inside the iphone picture. May God comfort Steve Jobs' family.



I had to select this quote, because so many people think art related studies are not useful or have no important application in the real world, technology or business. This beautiful little story shows that the old artistic disciplines can still have a viable impact in our lives.

New Look

It was time for a change. It is a new season, so I changed the look of this blog. I have nothing more to say really. Have a groovy day.

Ice, Ice Maybe

This was originally written 5-31-11

I cannot get enough ice lately! So I googled and discovered that anemic individuals often report a craving for chewing on ice! Since I have dealt with anemia on and off all my adult life I am taking my supplements now more than ever! Then I talked to a good friend who has been dealing with Lyme disease has also been craving and chewing on ice because she also has anemia. Her doctor recommended a slow-release iron supplement, hope it helps.
Since writing that I have been taking a SlowFE supplement and it's working.


Our oldest child will graduate from high school in about a week. Then school will be out for summer. It's been busy and stressful with all of that, and we have a pretty full summer this year.



Sweet Leaf now (see above), Sweet Leaf 25 years ago. It made me laugh when I thought of that while purchasing and trying Sweet Leaf Iced Tea when it was on a sale promotion. Thank you Jesus for the change!



I have been thinking about forgiveness and love, what with visiting that Love Hurts, God Heals post and how the parable of the Prodigal Son and all Jesus' other teachings on the subject. Can there be forgiveness without fellowship and restoration? Can I truly forgive those who hurt me if I don't wish to be around them or have much to do with them? I suppose I think if I were to be around them I would only be hurt further. Particularly when they refuse to acknowledge and accept responsibility for their own part in the strain, or have some sort of changed "fruit" in their life? I have forgiven, prefer to keep my distance though, and have felt lately other people seem to be pushing for more contact than I think is helpful or necessary. What do you think?

Some Days...

...music comforts me and gives me a catharsis. So you can guess the theme of this playlist and what is on my mind. Many years ago my wise and dear Father-in-Law said, "When your children are little they step on your toes, when they're grown they step on your heart." The playlist ends on a hopeful note. That's important.

Sunday Dinner, Vol. 7

Hello, I'm back, and I hope all (three) of you are still around. I also hope everyone had a decent (or better!) summer. I hope you all are immersed in a passable, or even delightful autumn. I thought it would be nice to get back into this blog with a recipe for a delicious Sunday Dinner.

Today I am inspired by Anthony Bourdain's television show, No Reservations.

Beef Bourguignon
6 servings
Ingredients:

* • 2 pounds beef shoulder or neck, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
(or use any stew beef, I also think venison would be good in this.)
* • Salt and freshly ground black pepper
* • 1/4 cup olive oil
* • 4 onions, thinly sliced
* • 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
* • 1 cup red Burgundy (If you're alcohol free, use red grape juice.)
* • 6 carrots, cut into 1-inch pieces
* • 1 clove garlic
* • 1 bouquet garni (a tied bundle of herbs, usually thyme, bay and parsley)
* • A little chopped flat-leaf parsley

Directions:

Stage One: Season the meat with salt and pepper. In a Dutch oven, heat the oil over high heat until it is almost smoking. Add the meat in batches -- NOT ALL AT ONCE! -- and sear on all sides until it is well browned (not gray). You dump too much meat in the pot at the same time and you'll overcrowd it; cool the thing down and you won't get good color. Sear the meat a little at a time, removing it and setting it aside as it finishes. When all the meat is a nice, dark brown color and has been set aside, add the onions to the pot. Lower the heat to medium high until the onions are soft and golden brown (about 10 minutes). Sprinkle the flour over them. Continue to cook for about 4 to 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, then add the red wine. Naturally, you want to scrape up all that really good fond from the bottom of the pot with your wooden spoon. Bring the wine to a boil.

Stage Two: Return the meat to the pot and add the carrots, garlic and bouquet garni. Add just enough water (and two big spoons of demi-glace, if you have it) so that the liquid covers the meat by one-third -- meaning you want a ratio of 3 parts liquid to 2 parts meat. This is a stew, so you want plenty of liquid even after it cooks down and reduces. Bring to a boil, reduce to a gentle simmer, and let cook for about 2 hours, or until the meat is tender (break-apart-with-a-fork tender).

You should pay attention to the dish, meaning to check it every 15 to 20 minutes, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pot to make sure the meat is not sticking or, God forbid, scorching. You should also skim off any foam or scum or oil collecting on the surface, using a large spoon or ladle. When done, remove and discard the bouquet garni, add the chopped parsley to the pot, and serve.

I found the recipe here. As you may know from my older Sunday Dinner posts, I tend to use the crock pot/slow cooker on Sundays because I am very busy with church responsibilities. So I have modified the recipe to suite the slow cooker. I did sear the meat, and followed stage one as the recipe dictates. However, stage two is transferred to the crock pot, and put on high for about an hour, and then will be on low thereafter. This is dedicated to my baby brother, the chef, who taught me to sear meat, and turned me on to shows like No Reservations. There will be a few less seats at the family table because prodigal sons (and brothers) must wallow in the pig pen or nurse their scars in hospitals, but when they finally come home, there will be a seat and a good meal, and no need for reservations.

Taking a Break...Summer Vacation

Click on the picture for a larger view.






I will post again in September. Hope everyone has a good summer.

That tree I keep drawing & more rainbows with sunshine

Love Hurts God heals, part 3

I revisited this old post today because I needed to. I have about three situations of varying degrees of stress cooking on my stove. When you note that my cook top has only 4 burners, that makes for a full, hot and messy kitchen. I am trying to stir each situation with love and faith and keep the contents from scorching the bottom or boiling over. I'm trying to add the right ingredients, at the right time and in the right order, and not sour the situations with the wrong ingredients. I think another pot is being added... Oh my!

Vanessa & Hodgepodge

MMMmm...good. This was breakfast today: Grits with sharp cheddar, garlic, onion and fresh Italian parsley.
~I woke up during the middle of the night. To help me drift back to sleep, I turned the TV to a rerun of The Cosby Show. I was just floating back into dreamland when my mind decided to think of, and name the Cosby kids. I could not recall the name of one of them. I tried Big Daddy's A-B-C trick, but that didn't help. Then I tried to forget about it and just sleep. By then I was back to being more awake then asleep and could not even think about sleep again until I finally Googled to find the name my brain misplaced of one of Cliff and Claire's five children. Can you name them all without cheating? After that I slept. It's not right. I'm not right.~Did you ever wonder how Netflix gets your movies to you so quickly? Here is a nifty article that explains.
~
Fascinating story HERE on Ethiopian Church Forests.

Small Botanical Drawings

India ink and Prismacolour pencils, spring botanical drawing.



Leafy botanical drawing, India ink and Prismacolour pencils.

Some landscape paint sketches & a doodle

Tempera paint:




India ink & coloured pencil:

Some Paint Sketches

This was a picture I took of my garden's bounty many years ago. I know I posted the pic before. I was inspired by it and ended up doing a couple of simple paint sketches.



Marigolds & tomatoes. Plain old tempera on paper.

some quick sketches

Diary of a Poor, Sad White Girl - Or Why Keeping a Journal Helps

photo by Paul Worthington
Madeline L'Engle writes this in the forward to A Grief Observed by C.C. Lewis

"...It is alright to wallow in one's journal; it is a way of getting rid of self-pity, self-indulgence and self-centeredness. What we work out in our journals we don't take out on our family and friends." A Grief Observed is the journal Lewis kept after the death of his wife, and he wallows better than anyone I have ever known, and in so doing, left something helpful to the world of grieving loved ones."

Grief is not my really my topic today. Though surely grief is a factor in my situation, the grief over my Dad’s long and arduous misfortune and then his abrupt and unexpected passing away is the great tragedy of our family. It influenced me in profound ways, and journaling through that was a healthy coping mechanism, whereas other methods of grieving were not so productive. I should have journaled more. Journaling is my subject today, and how immensely helpful it can be for all the reasons L’Engle stated above. Our lives are comprised of good and bad days, and in between days. In one’s journal the heartbreak of the awful day(s) can be recorded in the livid detail and all the ferocious ugliness that often seethes beneath the surface of our pain. (It’s not a pretty sight and there is a good argument to be made for keeping some of it private.) Conversely, our joy can be multiplied and our progressive steps can be plotted and charted. Our journal is our journey.

Even now as I use this blog as a sort of journal I have at times kept some of my entries private because on further reflection and revisiting, I declared them too much of a personal wallow, still others made the cut because I felt that the transparency and confession could be good for myself and hopefully another soul who may be struggling similarly.

Have you ever known someone who’s hurt and pain is so obviously raw that nearly every time you see them the cause of their hurt is constantly and ever present in conversation? I have, and I fear there were some times where I was that person. Sooner or later it wears on their hearers - the friends and family with whom they converse. There comes a time when our genuine concern over our pain-obsessed friend becomes a little exhausted as the same topic is revisited again and again. We want to be a patient and compassionate friend but it is difficult. Those three “self” issues L’Engle mentioned in the above quote factor in. Though we might have the brotherly love of Jonathan and David and the patience of Job, there are times when we ourselves would appreciate a modicum of concern and some sort of friendly reciprocation from our hurting friend. Rubbing to long and too hard in one place creates a blister, and journals can be a helpful way of alleviating blisters.

Keeping a journal works for me.

Just to underscore the title may I recommend: Diary of a Mad Black Woman and Poor Girl by X.

Can You Stand Another Royal Wedding Post?

I didn't plan on going gaga over the British Royal Wedding. I was actually leaning toward being a bit disdainful of it all. After all, our world is in such calamity, wars and natural disasters, death and misery, how can I really condone such pomp? However, I was curious about the dress, and I love hat watching, so I knew I would take a peek, but then I got enthralled.

I think it was my first look at the graceful majesty of the architecture of Westminster Abby, the verdant row of trees that decorated the aisle, and the vision of a classic princess, so small and elegantly attired in such a huge and regal place. Seeing and sensing the importance and rarity of a royal ceremony, she in her understated tiara and dress walking down the aisle, met by him in his uniformed perfection, I immediately though of the Biblical connotations. Suddenly I was thinking of a spiritual parallel, the kind that runs through all of nature and human affairs, the spark that reminds us all that there is some force greater than ourselves, constantly influencing us and wooing us to be awakened to the deeper truths.

The true church of Jesus Christ, made up of all true believers within all the various churches and denominations throughout the world, it is called His Bride. At some point in time there will be a kind of heavenly ceremony where the church will be presented to Jesus Christ in a joyous ceremony likened to a marriage ceremony and feast (*). When I really thought about how beautiful this royal wedding ceremony was, I began to get a bit amazed and excited imagining that one day such a thing will occur in the heavenly realms, with the God of the Universe and space and time. If mortal men and women can create and plan such loveliness, from the ancient buildings, to the soaring voices of the choir and even the handmade lace on the bride’s sleeves, how much more will God Himself demonstrate on that day? How much more will people have to rejoice over on that day - when God makes His Kingdom Come and His will done, and there is finally peace on earth and not even a wisp of sin or misery?

We do live in secular times, but this royal wedding was steeped in old, religious tradition. Normally that does not turn me on, normally I would be skeptical of religions tradition. As the Prince and his Bride repeated their vows they said things like betwixt and troth, words no longer common to our vernacular, but it brought to me the mindset of a time when there was great weight and importance to vows, to rulers and to making them in the sight of God, and how those rulers and vows could influence the world and the people they ruled for good or bad. Passages were read from the Bible book of Romans (here), and Father, Son and Holy Ghost were entreated again and again. I was reminded that the truth of God and His ways will go forth. God continues to remind the people of the world that He is the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords, more fitting and fair than the figure heads of earthy kingdoms and the men and women who wield that power behind them, often without true justice or mercy. More lovely than the lords in their uniforms and medals and the ladies in their haute couture and hats. Moreover, God Himself extends the invitation to His ceremony to all of us, commoner and royalty alike, though He certainly has a soft spot for the common man and woman. Have you received your invitation?

Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”


Many blessings upon the royal couple.

Good Friday & Earth Day

I was thinking that there is something profound about Earth Day and Good Friday falling on the same day this year. Some of my friends will celebrate one or the other. A few will celebrate both. I'm not sure exactly how to put into words the weighty notion I am sensing about it, but I will try. There is one Bible verse that appears frequently at sporting events and such. You have probably seen the sign John 3:16, but less often the content of it. “For God so loved the world,” it begins. God began the world out of love and He eventually sent Jesus to the world out of love. God and the world are intertwined. We live in this world, and are part of it. We humans have made a mess of everything God gives us. The earth, ourselves, our relationships. But we are not without hope. “He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life,” so the verse continues. God is fair, and sent Jesus to pay an ultimate price on our behalf, and He did it on Good Friday, which happens to be today, which happens to be Earth Day this year. A few verses later in John Chapter 3 there is talk about light and darkness - and we can see that darkness clearly in the way humankind has polluted the earth for greed and laziness, among other things, far worse things we do to ourselves and our fellow humans. “God sent His Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through Him.” Through Jesus we have the possibility of redeeming ourselves and all we have done wrong - both in the real world we live in now, and in the world to come after we die. So, I am thinking about all of this today. I share these thoughts with you and welcome your thoughts. I also found a nifty little blog article, here.

John Chapter 3, for reference.

Pet Peeves

I can't stand fake money that is made to look like real money, usually as some sort of attention grabbing tool. It makes me frown upon whatever is being promoted. I think it's a huge let down to be tricked like that. Find another way to get people's attention!

Funny Friday

Chris Needs Help, is a really funny project some dude is doing with fliers he posts on the same utility pole in a larger city. The request for Fritos and Snapple are a very nice touch. Check out that link to see them.

Here is something similar, but not as funny, more to encourage and uplift:



I would like to do something like this.
Tell me, what do you think about these projects?

And one more funny thing from Philosoraptor:

The Test Came and Went

I'm not saying I'm there yet. I'm just saying that I'm doing better. I have been pretty exuberant lately because I have just been feeling so productive, making time to do my little drawings, and feeling good about it and proud of myself. Everything is going fairly well. Not that it's all roses and sunshine, but it's pretty darn OK. It's easier to keep up with the positive steps I'm taking in my life when things are like this. But we all know life is not always easy, and of course, I was due for a storm. I got a double whammy of bad and troubling news other day. Without going into detail, one of the situations is very sad and worrisome, and the other is something that frankly ticked me off. I think both situations will be ongoing, and are far from being resolved. In the past I would find a way of avoiding, and not being productive. I would stew and steam as I obsessed over the problems or bad news. Instead I sat at my drafting table and drew and listened to music and cried. But it was OK. (I'm not emo, I'm peri-menopausal.) I kept up my life and my routine, I prayed (of course!), I did the opposite of what I used to do when I was a dried up co-dependent sad sack with a clutter-procrastination-creative block problem. So the test came and went and I passed. By God's grace, I passed. Because I sure could not do it on my own.

A Botanical and An Oceanic Drawing

India ink & Prismacolor pencils on tobacco & banana fiber paper

Some Little Drawings

A Few Things

1. I am not loving the almond milk in my coffee. I think I prefer soy milk or cow's milk best. Though the almond milk is nice alone, or in cereal.

2. I just found Kelly Oxford and I like, but be warned of occasional adult content.

3. I got my 2 younger kiddos fan-i-fied, along with me on this. Does that make me a really bad Christian? Why am I feeling some residual guilt? I am reading the Chronicles of Narnia to them, and of course, modeling Christianity and teaching and training them.

4. Sometimes I just have to hear Hello, It's Me by Todd Rundgren. It's just a nice pop song.

5. Without Jesus in my life, I would be so hopeless and afraid because we live in some crazy days. "If Jesus is a crutch, please give me two of them and a wheelchair too."

6. I still love BibleGateway.

7. I sent a drawing with the movie I'm returning to Netflix. I have a little Netflix love, because as I mentioned before: NO LATE FEES! I wonder if the associates will come here for a visit?

Hello NetFlix Associates!
Say Hello if you stop by, OK?
And keep up the good work!
Thanks!

8. I put the dog's dishes in the dishwasher along with ours and I am feeling a little troubled over that, although my friend Ani*, who works for a vet, assured me that it would be OK and we would not get doggie cooties. It goes against my OCD tendencies, but I rationalized it by saying that the sink and dish strainer and dishcloths would not be touching Our Boy's dishes. Therefore, it would be be less area and things to clean up after cleaning up his things. Everything would be hot and sterilized and contained to the dishwasher.

My Life in Titles

What Falls Away, How Stella Got Her Groove Back. These are titles to movies and books that caught my eye. Don't think of the plots or story lines of those books because I am not even going there. This is personal. I'm making this post about how a title grabs you because it's clever, interesting AND somehow applies your own self. For some reason I read more Sunday newspaper book reviews than I read of the actual books reviewed in the paper, and on the bestseller list. Don't get me wrong, I love to read, I just don't read as many books as I read about books. Occasionally as I do this I have come across titles that just resonate - but I haven't read the book, so I adopt them in my own silly mind. I have written before of the title 'How Stella Got Her Grove Back' because all those years ago, I was immediately stuck by the notion that my groove was [also] gone, or rather misplaced, and I knew that like Stella, I needed to find it and get it back. Of course, Stella's grove and mine represent different aspects of our lives, but the need to get back in the flow - on your game - recapturing a 'Joie de Vivre' - whatever you want to call it - I needed it. "What Falls Away" is another post for another day.

It took awhile, but I found it and I now say, "Welcome home groove." I've missed you. Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be.*
On a side note, my memoir might be titled, "She Came Late (and Left Early)."

~?~So I ask you, Dear Reader(s), because I'm curious, have you ever read a title and thought - "Well, why didn't I think of that for my autobiography!?" If so, would you like to share about it a little? I would love to hear your titles.

Create It Forward Exercise

This January I received the following note from a Facebook friend:

Awesome idea: I pledge to Create It Forward this New Year!I promise to send something handmade to the first 5 folks who leave a comment to this update.HERE'S THE CATCH: U MUST in turn promise to post this and send something U have made to the first 5 posters on your status (plus me!). The rules are that it must be handmade by U & it MUST be sent to your 5+1 people sometime in 2011! It's more fun if we pass it on!

Please don't respond to that - I am only quoting it. That exercise/giveaway has already begun, BUT, I will do another blog giveaway soon, because it's been so long. I am working, gradually, on this project. I am using India ink, Prismacolor pencils, and some really nice natural fiber paper (tobacco, banana) I discovered on a lark at a local discount store. I am keeping it simple and fun, letting creativity flow rather than get hung up on how naive and simplistic my drawings are. It is fun!

No April Fooling - I really am working on it!

Funny Friday: Rest in Peace Elizabeth Taylor

She had amazing violet eyes. She was devastatingly beautiful, and she could act. National Velvet, Father of the Bride and The Taming of the Shrew are among my favorites of her work. She was a champion for AIDS charity & awareness, at a time when few spoke about it - and she did so with compassion and logic. But when I saw this a couple of years ago, I laughed hard:

Black sheep bio., part 2

...continued from the earlier post...

I never fit in with the popular people in high school and I never wanted to. I just feel like I never completely fit in in any way or anywhere. Even my geeky tendencies aren't full blown - I was never quite smart or bookish enough. I was a Star Trek and Star Wars fan, but not someone who dressed up or learned Klingon jargon, though I might have enjoyed that. I'd read some Ayn Rand, but lacked brain power to engage the super smart set. My enjoyment of all that though, kept me from being absolutely a part of the fun-loving and lighthearted party people. I did hang out our at our school's smoking area (can you believe that a high school had a smoking area for students?), because I had been smoking since age 11 or 12 (another Baaalacksheep thing -cough). The smoking area was greatly populated by the stoner clique. So, I had a reputation as a stoner, when in fact, I never smoked pot or did drugs while at that school. I did smoke clove cigarettes, and maybe that confused some people. I was variously too rich, or not rich enough, too slutty, not slutty enough, too dumb or too smart, you get the picture.

The little hardcore punk scene in our city/town, was where all the punk misfit kids from various high schools came and hung out. It was often fun - we went to concerts (shows), wild parties, and did petty crimes (think grafitti, putting soap bubbles in fountains, borrowing golf carts), all in the name of our generation's brand of fun and teen rebellion. Big Daddy recently chatted with an old friend from those days and his friend said, we were like pirates - doing what we wanted, taking what we wanted, it was crazy. No one backed down from a fight, and there was plenty of brawling. They spray-painted graffiti on police cars right under the cops' noses. We were crazy, wild kids. We really did trash houses, hotel rooms, etc., and we weren't rock stars, we were hardcore. I remember feeling a strong affinity for the 'straight edge' movement, but never fully committed myself to that. Still, I embraced vegetarianism, eschewed my former promiscuity, protested racism, joined greenpeace. I fell in love with someone, and never would have thought that lasting real love was possible for people so young, but it was. A rift began to emerge within the little hardcore scene. As I understood it, a number of the kids were leaning towards white-supremacist beliefs and becoming more involved with all of that. At the time it seemed like some of the people I knew could overlook the racism because of the other things they had in common like the love of the music, shows and hanging out. I (We) just couldn't abide that, so I excused myself. But while it lasted - before those dark things crept in, it was wonderful, and I felt some kinship. Again these are the impressions of one person, and my own experiences. High school was ending, anyway, and people were naturally growing up and moving in different directions.

I spent a couple of years at community college before I went to Art School. Art school is a haven for black sheep. Need I say more? Probably not, but I will. It was great with free-spirits of all stripes and individuals of all types in abundance. I was beyond expressing myself through my appearance and sowing bunches of drunken wild oats, as some of my peers were, because I had already done so much of that when I was very young. I was in a stable, long-term monogamous relationship at a time and place where most people were growing up, falling in and out of romances, sensing freedom, partying and dating. My class was a very unique and varied group of complete individuals, each one of them like an interesting novel. We had some older classmates and some fresh out of high school, it was an interesting mix. Imagine the entire class as a a small library of great books. To be around all the talent of my peers and our instructors was incredible. It was a great time in my life.

Then my family began going through a crisis, a legal and criminal trial, and my parents wanted everything hushed, so I couldn't even really talk about it with people who were my friends, except my boyfriend. He became my fiance, he is my constant (hehe Lost reference) and my friend, and the guy I married and now call Big Daddy. While my art school peers were concentrating on learning and education, which what we were there for, I was torn apart by a family situation. It was a tragedy and a scandal, and it really affected me during my time at college and my work output. The trouble began my first year, and seemed to be minimal, but it escalated each year and by my final year, I felt I was a wreck in many ways. I never really shared it or could tell the entire thing to any of my peers, but I know I did talk a little about it with my roommate. My work and education suffered because of it. There were good times even in the midst of the trouble though, and our marriage happened during this time.

I became disillusioned with so many things. If innocent people could go to prison, if people who I thought were my parent's family, friends and colleagues could do such evil and underhanded things over greed, what was sure in this life? Not much. My family suffered though this crisis and the fallout took years and had a myriad of results. I feel like I slogged through that last year of school and graduated with my nerves frayed just to the point of splitting. I ran from art, piling on excuses about why I keep from doing it, and am only now regaining that part of myself. Other members of my family seemed to act out in other ways. Some never fully rebounded, while still others seemed to find a granite-like strength and resolve.

Many people come to Christ and have a religious experience and awakening when they are at a low point in their life. Though I had some troubles due to my family's legal burdens, in most other ways I was quite happy when I became a Christian. Again I was different from the deathbed and jail house converts, and I don't mean to lessen those amazing transformations, but I was like, ummm my life is pretty good but still I feel like there is something missing and wrong. I just always had a sense that something was missing in my life - it dogged me, and that is why I write it in bold italics. When I started believing in Jesus and looking into all of that, it was as if I found what I was missing, just like the old song, "I once was lost but now am found." I tried to fit in as a Christian - to become very conservative and traditional - but I'm never quite as conservative as the other Christians and I'm too Christian for my un-Christian friends. I threw myself into friendships with some of my husband's family members - because they were also Christians. I had some commonality with them at the time, like being parents of young children. In retrospect I see these were people with whom I had very little in common with other than that, and I can see now the friendships were now rather unadvised, probably for both of us. I really gave 'fitting in' a good shot but it didn't exactly work out. Still, I learn from all these experiences, I try to anyway.

Now I'm a minister's wife, so I am either put on a pedestal or sized up and found lacking. Some of our dear church people even call me 'first lady' which is sweet, but very weird to me, some think I can do now wrong and must be kept at a saintly arm's length. Still other people view me under a magnifying glass looking for every flaw to prove I'm not holy enough and just another hypocrite.

So all of this biographical blather began as I thought about that blog post at Tamera Out Loud. All I can say is that I am mostly at peace with being a black sheep nowadays. This is what I wrote under a reply over there:

The only place where I have ever felt I totally fit in with anyone are a few transcendental moments where, for one reason or another, I felt a tangible presence of God and His Fatherly love. That experience messed me up in a good way and carries me through. Carries me through what, you might ask? Everything. Now, there are times when my my husband comes so close – with this wonderful simpatico kind of lovely friendship-passion soul-mate thing we have.

I suppose that coming to God, believing in Christ and all of that - Christianity, being saved, having a spiritual awakening, all those kinds of names we call it, well, that is the circumstance and encounter within my life where I have felt truly and utterly 'home' and accepted and loved and understood. Being accepted by Him, now has been enough for me, so that when I feel misunderstood or lonely as I still often do, I know there is One loves me 'just as I am.' Baaaaa!

An Observation

In love,
the first cut is the deepest.
In the morning,
the last sip is the sweetest.
Of coffee that is,
if you haven't stirred it thoroughly.
But it's a very nice thing,
to have the best at last.

Funny Friday

Wasn't it Tolstoy who said:
"Normal families are all alike;
every fanboy family is geeky in its own way."




God love 'em for letting their freak flags fly!

Courtesy of Awkward Family Photos.

Warning: "This May Get All Jesus-y and S#*T"

Does that title shock you? Well, it does shock me a bit. But also, to be honest, after that first moment of shock subsides, it makes me smile. It's kind of funny. It's irreverent, and I find irreverent humor refreshing at times. Is it sacrilegious or blasphemous? I don't think so. I can see that the above statement would offend some people. I think it would grab other peoples attention, though, and draw them in. I think it has a certain effectiveness within their audience, which is the point of it.

My impression is that the blogger who wrote what I quoted in the title above was striving to describe themselves and their corner of the blog world, and that statement was exactly their honest credo in regards to their blog. When I came across that statement on their blog it gave me pause for three reasons: the small initial shock, the sly humor that melted my shock into a wry little smile, and the fact that on two different Christian discussion boards I was 'hearing' a conversation about cussing and Christians. (Someone on those discussion boards even linked another blog article, see here.) It got me thinking about my own opinions about profanity and the Christian lifestyle. I think there is this trend within Christian circles today to want to really shrug off the perceived old-time, stuffy religious attitudes and postures in an effort to prove how relevant Christianity [still] is. In this definition relevant equals hip, and hip equals the practices of those who are generally respected as movers and shakers within our culture. As I stated earlier, I don't think that the author of the quote I used in the title had that intention at all, but it got me thinking about all of it.

I came to Christ within a church that was strict and traditional in many ways. The lines between my sinful pre-Christian self and redeemed post-Christian self were clearly drawn, and gladly forsaken, it's important to note. I delved into my new-found faith with zeal and love. Back then as I began to read the Bible on my own, my convictions over that juxtaposing of former and latter self seemed to be backed up. I really did feel like I was a new creature when I came to believe in God, and I was so pleased when I read somewhere in the Bible something exactly along those lines (see here). I also read other scriptural verses on ethical conduct of all kinds. I also recall reading a passage about avoiding coarse language and joking (here), to be separate from worldly practices (here), all making a very strong argument for the necessity of a Christian to avoid cussing. For me it was a no-brain-er.

Now I live in a post-modern world that is super aware of its post-modernity (here and here). Things are emerging and emergent (!!??!!), what's a person to do? Cuss just to prove they are not a phony? Pepper their communication with four letter words merely for the sake of liberty? God forbid! Or should we still be pressing toward and seeking to attain our more humbler, noble Christian selves? The latter is exactly what I think, and what I am trying to do in my own life. I think we Christians should all be tearing away all the ugly, sinful, unChristian and worldly layers, no matter how big or small the sin. We ought not to celebrate or otherwise revel in our vices and flaws, not winking at them or excusing them, we should be always concerned with peeling them off. When we think we have mastered one fault, flaw or sin - through Christ's Grace and help - then we should go on to the next one. For me the difference between a religious attitude and posture and reverent and humble attitude is that humility does not draw attention to oneself but to Christ - flaunting my liberty is different than actually having liberty.

Now I will leave you with my own opinion and not a biblical stance, because the Bible stance I referred to above is clear. I wrote this on another post: Someone said, "Profanity is the effort of a feeble mind to express itself forcibly." Mark Twain said, "When angry, count to four. When very angry, swear." Can we all agree that cussing is so common it has lost some of its meaning, and then agree to do it infrequently so that it will actually be shocking again, or dare I even say appropriate in the rarest of situations? Remember when Rhett Butler told Scarlett O'Hara, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn"? It became the most remembered and quoted line in movie history, and because it was so shocking and so perfect for that situation. If we are going around daily and making such statements they are no longer effective and meaningful. If you want to express yourself forcibly, and let's face it, there are some unusual occasions where we could argue that one might need to, then make sure you clean up your vocabulary and only let the foul language fly when very, very upset on the rarest occasions. How much more shocking would it be, on those angry and painful occasions if you didn't curse? Think about it. If you find yourself very, very upset often, that is symptomatic of another problem you need to let God work on.

What Calvin Ate...

Well for some reason last spring (or summer?), when he was well over 6 years old, and certainly knew better, my youngest child Calvin decided to swallow this smooth, magnetic marble. It was part of one of his toy sets. It took a full eight days for it to pass through his system and land in the toilet with a heavy and relieving kerr-plunk. It caused no adverse effects because it was small and smooth. I thought of it when I read about Jorge Garcia's recent ordeal when his puppy ate a staple. Thank the Lord his pup is OK - their situation was quite serious. Ohh, how our little ones worry us sometimes. Below is the picture of it, which I sterilized in bleach, and then put in a bag. It's tarnished now. Haha. The key and the penny are just for a size reference.

Work Space - Before & After

Part of my problem is that when my family went through what it went through, I chose a coping mechanism that is no longer helping me cope and certainly isn't productive. I have really been trying to break through and overcome that, and I cannot stress enough that it's by God's grace and help. This is my story and He's an essential part of it, so I cannot shy away from that aspect. If you aren't a Christian and are reading this, just bear with me and maybe I can explain it. Many people believe in coincidences but I do not, I believe they are "God things" - something He sends your way to get your attention. It can be a gentle reminder OR a kick in the butt to get on the path you're supposed to be on. God sent me these messages variously and in other ways, but the three that apply to what I am thinking about today are my being introduced to The Artist's Way, Geninne's Art Blog and the TV show Clean House. These are tools and things that woke me up and got me moving when I was finally ready to change.

I have always been a bit messy. When I was going through situations with my family, my father's sad and unfair circumstances, the raging and erratic addiction(s) of other loved ones and all the pain and turmoil these circumstances caused, I was trying to cope and be strong on the outside. My messiness got out of control. On the inside I was hurting, and as best as I can see it from my own armchair psychological diagnosis, I let the interior of my home just grow with clutter and messiness that was sort of a manifestation of all the confusion and mess I felt about the situations that were hurting me. But I could always clean up my home, I could not clean up any of the messes that my family was in, those were beyond my control.


I still mopped, vacuumed and cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, generally kept house, but I let stacks of things pile up and overtake areas of my home. I also couldn't part with things, no matter how unsentimental, or unusable they were. I had a 'I might need it someday' mentality. You can imagine how I did not part with sentimental and personal things if I was holding on so strongly to the unsentimental things. I never refused anything people gave me, whether or not I liked it or could use it. It was one of my ways of avoiding things within myself, because I couldn't let myself take the time to do art or anything 'for me' if my house needed serious attention. There is a hierarchy of things that need tending to in my life. The house came after my family, and I don't need to tell you that there is always plenty to do to take care of family first. Then of course, we are in the ministry, so any type of ministry and doing good for others ought to come before anything I might want to pursue. My little mania and foolishness (as Neicy on Clean House calls it) became crystal clear when I moved here, and was on a steady (albeit slow) path of emerging from this stuff that was blocking me. I set up an art space in my room and repeatedly began to let thing pile up on and in front of it rather than use it. I was blocking myself.



I still struggle, I'm not going to say otherwise. I thank God I am not where I used to be, even though I am not exactly where I'd like to be. I'd like to be as productive as someone like, say Geninne (see above link) or my friend E. who is a working jewelry artist. I used to let my dissatisfaction over what I was not doing paralyze me from what positive steps, however small, I was actually taking. Now I celebrate the small victories and don't agonize over the setbacks in the same unproductive way. I still have a long way to go, but I want to show today how things are. Things are looking up.

Japan & Hawaii, The West Coast of North America

...Are in my thoughts and prayers. Just a very quick link off the top of my head, to send help, Save The Children is another good organization.

Please, will you join me in praying together as you read the following?
A Prayer After the Earthquake (*originally circulated after the 2010 earthquake in Haiti)












LORD, at times such as this,
when we realize that the ground beneath our feet
is not as solid as we had imagined,
we plead for your mercy.

As the things we have built crumble about us,
we know too well how small we truly are
on this ever-changing, ever-moving,
fragile planet we call home.
Yet you have promised never to forget us.

Do not forget us now.

Today, so many people are afraid.
They wait in fear of the next tremor.
They hear the cries of the injured amid the rubble.
They roam the streets in shock at what they see.
And they fill the dusty air with wails of grief
and the names of missing dead.

Comfort them, Lord, in this disaster.
Be their rock when the earth refuses to stand still,
and shelter them under your wings when homes no longer exist.

Embrace in your arms those who died so suddenly this day.
Console the hearts of those who mourn,
and ease the pain of bodies on the brink of death.

Pierce, too, our hearts with compassion,
we who watch from afar,
as human beings suffer (*as the poorest on this side of the earth)
find only misery upon misery.
Move us to act swiftly this day,
to give generously every day,
to work for justice always,
and to pray unceasingly for those without hope.

And once the shaking has ceased,
the images of destruction have stopped filling the news,
and our thoughts return to life’s daily rumblings,
let us not forget that we are all your children
and they, our brothers and sisters.
We are all the work of your hands.

For though the mountains leave their place
and the hills be tossed to the ground,
your love shall never leave us,
and your promise of peace will never be shaken.

Our help is in the name of the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
Blessed be the name of the Lord,
now and forever. Amen.

Copyright © 2010, Diana Macalintal.
Permission is given to reprint for non-commercial use.
Original source: Website of the Roman Catholic Diocese of San Jose, California.
http://www.dsj.org/being-catholic/worship/a-prayer-after-the-earthquake-in-haiti


Jesus Wept statue photo by Termin8ter

House-wifery

I used the title in another post an liked it so much. It deserves to be a title, and have its own little chapter. Like Little Wayne coining "bling-bling" and BigPapa Skin and Russell P coining "O-Town" for Orlando, I am hereby coining "house-wifery" as my invention. I'm staking that claim, putting the eB flag in it and saying - it's my word ya'll.

The first post on house-wiferey will be dedicated to mystery smells, those odorous offenses that occasionally (I hope) torment our homes. Right now I am smelling a gym-sock smell in one corner of the living room and have yet to discover the source. This is probably a very inappropriate post for a blog, a bit sickening, not to mention boring and un-readable. I will probably never even post it. But on I write, wondering if anyone else has similar problems with mystery smells. I just know there is one little rolled up sweaty something stuffed somewhere hard to see, making me suffer. Making me check my own feet, making me spray the carpet with chemicals, dig under furniture and making me sneeze from dust bunny inhalation.

photo by Brianfit

just some favorite songs - spiritual

Since I did the secular songs a few weeks back, I now shall share some of my favorite spiritual songs which are vastly more important in my life. Hard to pick out just a few, but here is a little start, I'm sure I'll post more another day, another time.


I like Greg Long's version of this song (it's his) best, I like how vulernable his voice sounds in the beginning. The album this comes from "Jesus Saves" is actually one of my favorites and one of those 'go to' albums, it's just good, so good.

Ashley Cleveland - What a voice! I was looking for artist and performance videos, but I couldn't find one for this song. It was the first song of hers I recall hearing and it wowed me with awesome respect for God, or should I say it wowed me with humble respect for an Awesome God! (It also gave me hope that there were some really good Christian artists and musicians out there.) Check out her version of "Gimme Shelter" which better than The Stones, yeah, I know people will doubt my humble but accurate opinion, If you listen to it you'll see why I have that opinion.

There is no artist like Rich Mullins, not before and not since.
Talent + integrity = the real deal.

"Saved" by Dylan just moves me - makes me joyful and reminds me of that day when I woke up to the truth and wanted to just jump for joy. This video clip barely shows Dylan and highlights the band which is great - they need to he highlighted. But it makes me wonder if this was the 2nd camera footage meant to be edited in later on, or if it was filmed by friends or relatives of the band.

Black Sheep, a biography of sorts, part 1

"There's a lot of things about me you don't know anything about...things you wouldn't understand, things you couldn't understand. Things you shouldn't understand. You don't want to get mixed up with a guy like me. I'm a loner... a rebel."

The above quote is from Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and for me it has always been somewhat of a signature. *I think* am all of those things (except that I am a girl not a guy) wrapped up into one kind of nerdy, geeky person. If you know about Pee-Wee Herman, then you know he is not what your mind conjures up when you first think, "REBEL." The Sons of Anarchy are rebels, the Lone Biker of the Apocalypse is a rebel, those are some dangerous characters. James Dean, Marlon Brando, Cyndi Lauper, Jane Fonda, Patti Smith, Dorothy Parker - all pop-culture rebels of one kind or another (we're not talking Che Guevara, MLK or Ceasar Chavez here). I was never that cool, (or that righteous). I concede I was a little cool, just a tad, as my Mom would say, not about my coolness but when she wanted a little more martini from the shaker, or a little more lasagna from a pan. I was never the coolest person you knew, or I knew. Anyway, I'm writing about this because I read and entry called The Parable of the Black Sheep over on the Tamara Out Loud blog and she ended with the question, "Have you ever felt like the black sheep?" (Girl, don't get me started!) "Where have you found people or places that you fit in?" She got me started. Rather than hijack her replies I felt like elucidating (Read: BLATHERING on) about this subject because it's one of those journaling and working through my stuff things, and after all, that's why I started this little corner of the internet. So here this goes, it's long it's personal and it just might bore you to tears, and believe it or not, this is the edited down version.

Why do I think I'm a black sheep, loner and rebel? I just don't feel like I have ever fully fit in anywhere. For starters, I was adopted. So, from the very beginning of my life I was a little different from everyone else among my family, friends and peers. Other people made some kind of note of that fact, usually positive, and my parents always made me feel special, loved and wanted. They were a wee bit older than most of my friends' parents, another distinction, but not radically so. I was blessed with great parents. They sent me to very good schools and provided for my brother and I many good things, experiences and lessons. I'm just talking now of the factors in my life that I believe contributed to my being different but believe me, my life was far from negative.

A couple of years ago it dawned on me how often we moved as my Dad climbed a corporate ladder and followed his career path. I lived in three different states, I went to eight different schools, lived in five different houses and three different condominiums. We also had a small and cozy summer place near a lake in Pennsylvania, which became a blissful haven for me as one unchanging little nook in the midst of all our moves. I had a good friend that lived nearby, and plenty of woods and the lake to explore. It was a favorite place until my family finally sold it. Our many moves took place all through my schooling years (kindergarten-high school). I was the new kid more times than I care to remember. I never really fully fit in, though I did make some good friends along the way, but people already had established friendships before I came along to whatever school, neighborhood or group. And they had those same kinds of friendships after I moved away, and when you move away, no matter how good your intentions, contact tapers off and the close relationships aren't quite the same, and that's also true of my extended family.

I began acting out in my pre-teen and teen years, some of that could have been from the moves, but I can't say for sure. Some of it was due to other darker things that I don't need to go into, but those things had an affect on me. I was sort of a poor little rich girl, or more accurately a poor little upper middle class girl. I began getting into the usual troubling things that sidetrack or derail teenagers, looking for some kind of comfort. I can see now in retrospect it was a spiritual search within me as well, but at the time I didn't realize that. It was also that garden variety teen angst that hits almost all of us in some form, along with the colliding of the culture and politics of the day: growing up, waking up, flexing the muscles of independence and person-hood. I fell in love with music even more, and found some comfort and solace within the heavy metal and punk rock genres that were emerging in sight of my affluent middle class radar.

Then I found the hardcore music scene of the early-to-mid-80s. That was definitely one of the places where I felt I fit in better than anywhere else. By the time I got to my 3rd and final high school, I was the first person with a notable punk rock look. At the time, that school was in a semi-rural, agricultural area of the state. So I was not lovingly embraced by the locals. I spent the previous semester at another high school on the east coast, and it was a dreadful time for me, in some ways a rock bottom. Right before that I went to school in the San Francisco Bay Area of California. I loved and missed that place, but mainly my old life there and some very dear friends. It was a difficult time for me with that move.

In my new school, it was culture shock for me (and them). I was no Lisbeth Salander-style punked-outcast by any stretch, but I was odd and different for that time and that place. I was treated with some disdain by all but a handful of people, at first. Things did get better though. I made some friends - and even found some that embraced punk, together we discovered the hardcore scene and a larger group of punk/hardcore people from various high schools around our county and the neighboring ones, I found a little niche for awhile. That's probably where I felt most "at home" but I still was kind of an outsider, a late-comer, and never 100% fitting in. I was the weird girl who liked Fleetwood Mac and Black Flag, I remember catching a little flack for it. I think living near beautiful San Francisco for several impressionable years, and the 70s era I grew up in, probably influenced this huge soft spot I have for hippy culture and values - and I lean that way in some respects. That was a little incompatible with some aspects of the hardcore scene at the time. Remember - punk and hardcore were a reaction to the kind of music, lifestyle and ideas that came before each respective genre. Hardcore itself was a reaction to punk, but you didn't come here for a mini-music history lesson (or did you?). Back then, punk and hardcore music were the antithesis of hippy music culture. My Allman Bros. affection and Stevie Nicks admiration were under wraps when I ran with certain crowds, except with the most trusted and open-minded of friends.
to be continued...