Saturday, August 29, 2015

Small frets, change and challenges,It is all good.

Early start to the day this Saturday , the last one in August.( Alright English geeks, it is a fragment. I know that but it felt right.) Some stray thought a small fret walked into a rather pleasant deem and nibbled the edges until it woke me and I had to get up , face it and put it down. When that was done, the dogs woke up so they went outside to potty, came in to eat and are now kenneled for a post meal nap that is a habit. My dishwasher is loaded and swishing filling the silent house with rhythm. Pretty much the morning rut but an hour earlier than usual. A change in routine that will affect the course of my day. Change does that.

Yesterday I entered the classroom again but it too was a change. No longer a teacher I am an ESL paraprofessional(para ) for short. I spent the day speaking Spanish to help a new seventh grader who speaks no English with her first day at a local school. I had no lessons to plan, no papers to grade, and it was a change. I had been wondering how it would be and I found in one day, it is okay. Maybe even great. I get to work with students on a one to one basis in crowded classrooms and to help them do well. The classroom teacher has to deal with testing, common core, the switch to paperless classrooms but I get to work with the students which after all is said and done why I went into teaching.

Today is bringing a change also. I am going to try to learn to crochet once again. I can do a granny square, chain, double and treble crochet but he results look haphazard because maintain tension has caused me problems. Today is my goal is to learn the basic Tunisian stitch( afghan stitch to some of you). It may be an attainable goal as it is done on a longer needle and is a more solid result than crochet's usual lacy result. At any rate I find learning new things forces me to use as Poirot calls them the little grey cells. New learning keeps my cells active and learning at any age is a true stimulation.

So it will be a day of using English so the grey cells can relax on that end until Tuesday when my para week begins again but they will also face a challenge involving both thought and action. A mixed bag of stimulation and that is a good thing.

Saturday, August 22, 2015

new dog in the hood.

My dogs live in a limited area of movement the house and the fenced backyard and two of them are always on lead even there.Zoe is on lead because she is an escape artist and true to her mix of breeds is not lazy about digging her way out; Boba because he is small and could slip through fence gaps. They maintain a love hate relationship it the dogs to the east of our yard. Heidi and Snickers are also denizens of a fenced yard who bark in chorus with my trio and run back and forth the fence line. It is a loud and active form of play.

Today on a potty run. Zoe tugged to the end of the lead, Boba growled (actually growled) and Winston went to the fence. Reason/ A new dog in the yard to the west of us. Reddish brown and white it looks like a aussie shepherd mix. Winston wanted to play while the other too were saying you are too close to our place. Now it was just a warning because the hair on their backs had not raised.Zoe forgot to potty she was so aware of new dog. So all three dogs went in . Zoe is in her box until she recalls why she went outside. I sat down to write and zoom Winston and Boba were at the window. New dog is not on a lead and he was definitely in our yard. So it will take a wile until the boundaries are clearly set. We, the humans, can only control the dogs but the boundary setting is their own area of decision.

Guess we humans are much like dogs. Changes have to be challenged weighed and accepted. Right now a segment of our society is not comfortable that the "white race" is no longer the majority of our population and in truth if world population is considered it never has been. Our new dog in the hood is learning that skin color is just that a color not a race. Personally I am ok with the concept that all of us are humans, and if you respect me I will respect you. I can only hope others will come to this realization. After all the Christ we follow knew no limitations on his love.

Interestingly a friend said that she believes as a group these people do not live as we do. Well maybe but I recall one my uncles who worked on relocating people displaced by the TVA dam. They surveyed the people in town about habits such as house repairs, education, garbage disposal and many such mundane habits so like groups could be in neighborhoods. The results people who burned their garbage etc were equal in all color groups. Economic status determined living habits more than color. Now Charlie was well read so it may have been a report he had read, but he did work on TVA. The point is with in area people are people and one color is does not live at a lower standard than others unless economically oppressed. We are people, humans. We all love, hurt, bleed read and breathe air. WE MUST LEARN TO ACCEPT EACH OTHER AND TREAT EACH OTHER AS WE WISH TO BE TREATED. DOGS MAY SET BOUNDARIES, BUT HUMANS NEED TO OPEN THE BOUNDARIES AND LIVE TOGETHER IN PEACE.


Thursday, August 20, 2015

Lessons



Today classes began. My Thursday morning Comp 101 met at McPherson. Interesting fact out of ten students eight were there before class by ten minutes or so, another came in about 10 minutes after the class was to begin and one traipsed in around 1/2 hour after the nine o'clock start. As a practice the office manager called the two late comers. I do not know why but being late is a burr under the saddle to me.

Hold on that last statement is not quite true. I do know why I am always ten minutes early or more and then spend time waiting. This is not a genetic trait , but it definitely came from my parents. Without lectures or shouting I was trained to be on time if not early.No one said this is what you do, but the lesson was there. It was a "do as I do" lesson and they are much more effective than lectures. Children learn from the people around them.Preach whatever homily you want to, they are aware whether you follow the lesson yourself and they do what you do.

Being on time is one way to show respect. Again no words were necessary for this lesson. It was learned when my parents were greeted with smiles as they checked in for appointments and when ( It was often) they were allowed to go in because someone else was late or did not show. Bosses, office managers, teachers among others are on tight schedules, tardiness throws a snag into the works.Teachers have to repeat themselves, doctors and office managers have decide if they are to take who is there or make everyone wait on the late arrival and let us not go into employers who have to confront a terminally tardy employee.

I learned other lessons from my parents' actions. My dad never tried to pay a child's under 12 fee when I hit 12 though I looked younger. My parents made liberal use of thank you and please. I had to write thank you notes. I did not have to like the gift but I had to express thanks to the giver if only for the thought. I recall one such note thanking a relative for a pair of too small Dr.Denton style pajamas when I was in ninth grade. It was not easy task and I admit my mom made me write it twice until it had some semblance of true gratitude. No one was ever out down in our house due to religion, gender, or race. I found out much later Dad did have some biases, but he never said them to or about someone in public or in the privacy of home. Mom and Dad both worked and work was something a person did. They sent me to college so I would not have to live off a sales commission unless I chose to or do some backbreaking soul ripping menial work just to survive. They wanted me to work, but to work at a profession so they made sure I had one.

Their lessons were not always the same. Mom taught me to cook. to sew and to craft.She also read and encouraged me too. I remember her telling the public library"s head person that I could read Peyton Place( the Grey book of the era) though I was under twenty-one. She taught me a lady could enjoy a somewhat dirty joke, that family came first, and that life was an adventure. Dad gave me a love of travel. He took us to different states and to Mexico and Canada. He gave me the love of movies by taking me to Saturday Matinees. He too taught me life was an adventure to be lived by coming into the kitchen saying," I am going to________.Are you coming?".

My parents did not lecture or explain.When I became a teen and was pondering moral decisions such as smoking( they both smoked), they simply said it is your life, you decide. Another statement that hit home was the ne that went Remember you live with your bad decisions everyday of your life, not us. So think things through. That was only said once but when faced with a decisions the What if of both the yes and no were considered before I decided. It put the responsibility where it truly belonged with me. They would support me but they would not make excuses for me.

This is a long discussion brought on by a late student but I wonder how she learned that it was okay to be late and ask for an update of class when class was over.. I know how I learned life lessons. How did you?









Sunday, August 16, 2015

sunday and re-reading again

Sunday for real is here after yesterday felt like Sunday all day. It feels like Sunday so the inner clock is once again working or as the Brits say tickety-boo.

Re-reading THE NIGHT REMEMBERS by Kathleen Eagle I was amazed at an element I had missed in my first reading. Jesse Wolf is a nearly perfect description of a person suffering from ptsd. He can function in society but when the darkness comes he reacts to life by rejecting the world. The reader watches him teeter on the edge of giving in,of ending it. In the 90s when I first read it his shattered spirit drew me into the story and held my attention , but I never thought of the syndrome so often in today's news. Was it because I was more naive politically than I am today or was it because ptsd had not yet been in the public eye? Still re- reading it knowing about the syndrome adds greater depth to the story.

Knowing the era and the rules of the world at that time also helps one gain reading depth. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE is a case in point.during a first read the conflict between Elizabeth and Darcy catches the readers' interest. It is after all the boy meets girl, conflict between them and a happy ending when they realize they care for each other. The classic romance format in a nutshell. But it is so much more. Austin has written examination of marriage and manners in the regency era. In this era one never addressed each other by first names unless the person was a sibling,parent etc or given permission, proper young ladies never were alone with males , and marriage or spinsterhood were the choices for women if not in the servant class. In this classic there are several examples of marriage which one must first realize never or almost never based on romantic feelings. The older Bennets are in a marriage the husband regrets as he married for pretty face and a need for an heir and now he and his wife have little in common so he removes himself to the library allowing her to dither along. Charlotte aware that she is near spinsterhood marries Mr. Collins and makes the best of it. Elizabeth's older sister is lucky enough to marry Mr. Bingley ,but only after he decides to defy convention and marry her despite her poor social level and the idiocy of her mother. The younger sister is rather impulsive and causes the entire family's reputation( all-important in the era) to come into question when she elopes without benefit of marriage. Elizabeth and Darcy marry based on love and attraction only after trials have been faced, His first proposal which she refuses speaks of how he is defying society by asking her to marry him. When a reader knows the strictures of a highly regulated set of rules based on birth and wealth, the comedic moments have so much more to them, and Austin's commentary on her era hidden in the story rings stingingly true.

Dana Stabenow's Kate books are easily re-read. The plot always keeps one interested but each re-read reveals how carefully the plot is woven. Each re-read gives the reader more details on Alaska and the life of its residents. The books gain in depth and read in order, the growth of the characters is richer than on a first read. I suspect the books of Craig Johnson and C.J.box will benefit in the same way when re-read. Not only will the main characters become fuller and more real, but also the minor characters will be seen more clearly,

Good reads are enjoyable , but great books can be re-read even while knowing the outcome for the little gifts of insight into the characters and the writers' talent that come with each re-reading. I urge you to try a re-read of a favorite book and you will find out why it rings so true to you,

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Sunday but wait it is Saturday and Murder is on my mind.

So far today I am having a Sunday even though it is a Saturday. the day has a tempo of a Sunday uncrushed, focused on no particular task. The dogs are in sleeping mode. I got up dressed and went to Brewed Awakening for coffee and even though they are not open on Sunday , it is mentally a Sunday. This has happened to us all at one time or another. Our internal clock goes awry for a bit.

Perhaps this is because I have been researching poisons so I can kill someone. It must be quick and practically untraceable via an autopsy without significant and sophisticated testing. I was thinking of castor beans in chili. Castor beans are source of rincin which is deadly. It causes organ collapse.. but I wonder if a good coroner would be able to see signs of the collapse in what appears to be a healthy body. It can be as quick as 36 hours or take longer depending on how it is administered to the victim. so more research is needed.After all the victim is dead,. the means must be found.

Put your mind at ease.The murder is fictional and I am writing it. Writing is part of my life and this tale 's opening came to me in a dream almost fully written. It is an opening I like and the characters are forming well but the method of the kill has to fit. The body bears no visible wound, has no signs of heart attack etc so these are limits on the choice of poison. I will find, but the search is blocking other activity.

Miss Marple plays in the background for white noise as I write. It has often been a Sunday treat on PBS's Masterpiece Mystery so it adds to the displacement of my days. Agatha christie often used poison as a weapon and she made a study of them during volunteer service in WW I. At the moment I am wishing I could channel her knowledge to make my life easier. Oh well it is learning process and even at my age one can learn.

At any rate I must the search will go on but I will try to recall this is Saturday not Sunday.

Friday, August 14, 2015

books, authors and re reads.

Books are a major part of my life as you my readers know or have guessed by now. I borrow books from the library, read on my kindle, and read books as they have for eons. If I had access to scrolls, I would read them and one of my daughters said I would read toilet paper if it had print. Oddly she might just be right.

At the moment I have several favorite series. Louise Penny's Inspector Gamanche series draws my attention by the older man's wisdom contrasted with his younger counterpart. Stuart MacBride" sometimes a bit gory series keeps me reading as Inspector Steele a rough cut female lead irritates her DCI. The medieval tales of Brother Cadfael offer a gentle sense of peace as crimes are solve. CraIg Johnson,C.J.Box and Dana Stabenow create believable characters who live in places that sing with reality.Agatha Christe is my favorite traditional( especial Marple) though P.D James intriques me also as do the Hamish Macbeth stories by M.C. Beaton Rhys Bowen series set in London between the wars. Yes I love mysteries with a high tendency to pick a cozy over a gore filled tome.

But mysteries are not al I read. Romance holds a spot in my heart also. Eloisa James, Mary Balogh, Anya Seton will be in my reading moments quite often as will Nora Roberts, Cathy Maxwell,Juliet Quinn among others. However I never cared for the Brontes except for Jane Eyre. Austin is a favorite though Northanger Abby and Emma are low on the list.I confess I try to read an Austin once a year because of her wry wit and forward thinking about a woman" ability to actually think.

Fantasy is also a a genre to my liking. Anne McCaffrey, Patricia McKillip, J K Rowling are among the authors I can dive into. Jim Butcher's Dresden files takes me away to a fascinating view of Chicago. Tolkien is a must read and One my thrills in life was drinking at the "bird and the Babe" in Oxford where he and C.S, Lewis sat, talked and created their works. Another though not fantasy was eating a meal at the pub Thomas Hardy ate at. That brings me classics. Dickens never wrote a bad book though some are more readable than other. Oliver Twist's Fagin still is a major character that fascinates me. Moby Dick leaves me cold and I prefer Hawthorne over Poe.

The test of a good book for me is a re-read. If I knowing the outcome can still enjoy the act of reading the book after some time has passed it is a good book. Re -reading reveals new aspects that were overlooked in the first read; it adds depth to the enjoyment of the book. Some books are well worth a re-read others not so much.The Stabenow , Johnson. Beaton and Butcher are among those. At the moment I am reading for a second time after the passage of several decades Kathleen Eagle's THE NGHT REMEMBERS and savoring every delicious word. Several of her backlist are on order so I can once again join the lives of her characters. good writing will survive rereading and the reader emerges with a richer knowledge of the world the author has built.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

thursday the week is nearly gone

Thursday and nothing that had to be done. Oh the house needed work and the writing is always there, but I felt free as there were no meetings, no appointments, no classes. It was not humid nor was it overly warm. I did run for coffee, and bought some groceries. Otherwise I have played with the dogs, knitted. binged on Miss Marple with the aid of my Roku.

When I found out French was no longer a course at Buhler,I wondered what will I do. So I got sub applications in to several schools and got okayed at three of them. Number is just lacking the tb test papers. Then the college offered me two classes. and a few weeks later offered me two more. Now today I got called about being an ESL aide at a local 8th grade.the lady said they could be flexible around my classes for HCC. Tomorrow I interview and what happens happens. Rather think my Spanish and French might make it a possibility for me. I hope it will work out but if it doesn't no stress. At first I worried about filling my time and now I wonder if it might be too full. Life!!

Lunch tomorrow with two pals. We often do this to have a girl's time. We are giggly like teens, serious as oldsters and calm ladies who lunch in turns. All three moods appear when we are together. The support that these times gives to each of us is invaluable.There is no price on the good feelings produced by friendship.

Spent two days this week training in a new nine program for the college. Time well spent and the new program is much easier to use. So now I am ready to teach my classes with new skills.

No profound thoughts this week. Keep reading they will appear in time.

Monday, August 10, 2015

monday




Monday morning and I need to get busy. Baby blankets to mail, a principal to meet, bills to pay make Monday busy. I must admit though even after 50+ years as a wife, mother, and teacher Mondays were no more fearful than another day. If you wake up and can navigate the day you are blessed.

The pictures you see if they come up are the loves of my life. The girls in one of those blended pictures so popular at one time is one of my favorites.They have changed, developed into their own distinct womanhoods, but this remains a favorite. They have made me proud. The other is of my three fur babes. Seems to be a home, I have to have an animal, and these three are the current pack. I have admit they have captured my heart.

Oops just realized the time. have to get on the move.More to follow later.

Friday, August 7, 2015

Free Friday

I took a free day today . No places to run too, no things to do, no people to call, in other words My day was mine to shape to enjoy to handle anyway I desired. So I semi dressed, jeans,loose shirt, slippers, an the big bonus no bra. I had to wear pants as walking the dogs even in the back yard require them. I didn't even cook---leftovers, salad and ancient grain cherries the day's diet.

Still I did get somethings done. The South Dakota story grew by more than 500 words and Hanna also grew by 200 or so. The memoir sat untouched. It will grow hopefully in the next week. I did dishes a load of laundry and added stitches to the shetland hap shawl.I wrestled a bit with the idea of how big to make it---half or full. I got a bill from the man who fixes my rain bird control center, and here I thought he had yet to come.My sprinkler system runs around 5 AM which is probably why I had not heard it go into action. I got good news from a state agency via mail and guess what they called about the same issue. Score one for my note to them on an official notice that asked to explain what the legalese meant. My daughter"s boxer puppy is on the mend from parvo . His breeder had not vaccinated them properly. All in all more positive than negatives today.

I have to mention that I went looking for an out of print book by Kathleen Eagle. Found on alibis, it led to purchase 4 more of her books to repave my worn out copies. The success of my search was worth cost and I am going to like rereading them. I will probably write about them here. Just a word to the wise to whoever reads this.


Tomorrow is full of places to be things to do. 8-9 a trek to Buhler to hit an nest ate sale, the items are bought so it is spick up run. 10-12 Women for Kansas at the library, Lunch at Brewed Awakening will be followed by a quick trip to Artlandia and I plan on attending mass at 5. Sunday will be a free day and next week will rival or top the errands and must do's of tomorrow.

So there it is the freedom to live my life slower busy is a true blessin

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Gifts thank you Andy


I was given a gift today. Well actually several but one that means much more to me than I can even begin to describe. It was not monetary or wrapped in a box, but the joy it gave me was real and fulfilling. The gift? A coffee date with an ex-student. An hour of his day given to me and a continued involvement in his life as he goes forward with his vocation. It cost him nothing, he did not have to wrap it , he did not have to send it and yet when the hour was over my day was better and my sense of connection to life and his life in particular was enhanced.

During life gifts play an important part. As children the brightly wrapped boxes at birthdays and holidays were highly anticipated, but once obtained the importance of the contents faded. The toys were played with less and less to be replaced with the newer fad. The books were read and the clothes worn though they were never favored as a gifting the first place. Still these material things did indeed give us gift. They gifted us with the idea that we mattered and that someone cared for us. Later as we began to give gifts that we actually selected to others, the act of giving gave us the gift of service to others. We learned that our actions could and did help others as we watched them open our wrapped boxes.

Now,I savor different gifts. Yes, a package is fun ,but more important is the caring behind the box and what it may hold. The act of selection , the taking of the time to actually obtain, wrap and present the box affirms to me that someone cares about me. That is the true gift. The gift of time is a true gift. Calling someone, having coffee, sharing road trip, talking about shared interests all these are gifts of time spent with me in mind. That is true gift, is it not?

Besides time there are gifts of the spirit and that is one I received today. Andy talked to me about his steps to his vocation, about beliefs we share and the meanings they have for us. I was allowed into his life just a little bit.He made me feel that I had in some small way been part of his journey, As a teacher these moments with ex- students help to realize in the years(50+ years)of teaching,I had actually touched lives in positive ways What a gift he gave me, and I hope some day some one will give him a similar gift.

So I try to give these same gifts to others. I try to give them time by being there to share love and ,laughter pain and tears. I try to give them spirit gifts by listening to them and sharing their importance in my life. Yes I love to give the wrapped boxes but these unwrapped gifts are I believe are the most important. Thank you Andy for reminding me of the meanings of the simple word gifts.






Thursday August 6th

It is going to be run here there day. Lots of scattered "to dos" to keep in the car and occupied. A nice change from the the rather quiet week so far.

First up is a real blessing-- coffee with an ex-student. Andy is a seminarian and his life choice is not what I expected from him. Still I am convinced if he completes the process he is ideally suited for it. Creative and compassionate he has the qualities to serve a parish well.

Then a run to mail 30 t-shirts for a t-shirt quilt. It is a great way to rid my storage of shirts I no longer wear and gives me lightweight warmth in a cool house. Probably have several more that can be used---maybe pillows.
Training at college for new web learning format is next. I have signed up for for(yes,4)adjunct classes this semester, and only one is a night course. You can drop a course and a teacher but a teacher will teach.

Also I should hit the library. In my life there is a constant need for new books and the library is a wonderful feeding ground as is my Kindle.

Then I need absolutely need to write,. Beta the sheriff and Hanna the witch are pestering me to tell their stories and there is always the memoir which may never be done until I am. lol Enough of the mundane. I promise a better read next post.

a post from the story teller wed august5,2015

Working on memoir the other day I realized that I can recall the floor plan of every house I have lived in since the age of five with surprising detail. This fact stopped the progress of my writing, as I was awed with the knowledge that was even possible. Houses are tied in with memories so they should impress us but there have been many houses in my life and not a one is absent.
After living in the Lincoln hotel for nearly a year, may parents bought our first Nebraska home. The address is gone but the house remains—a small two bedroom brick house which in a house poor market was a real buy. It was in this house that my mother used to tease me with stories from her moonstone ring. Sitting on the sofa she would gaze into the oval moonstone surrounded by deeper blue stones and spin stories as I snuggled near her. Perhaps my fascination with tale telling began with those sessions.
The next house was a grey pink house on J Street. It was rather dark though I do not know why. The door opened to living room with a kitchen to the right. There were three bedrooms and bathroom with green and black tile. The basement must have been finished as Mom rented it out to Gene McKay from her hometown. Memories from this house abound. Mom standing for a picture in a crop top and slacks is one and I still have the photo. Cousin Patty visiting from Ohio going bathroom in the yard as any farm-raised girl would, but the house was on the main drag so she got into trouble. But mostly the cool bedroom where I read as much as I could especially during a rough session of chicken pox.
Several years later after a brief residence in a in between house, there was another J street house about four blocks from the first. This was larger and created in me a love natural light in a house. Two floors to ceiling windows dominated the main living area one was in the front room and the other in a direct line from it in the dining room in the rear. These two rooms were large and four steps down from the rest of the house. Once again Mom rented the basement out. This is the house where Dad brought home a convertible, I watched a neighbor’s son eat the black bag worms form the trees, a possum crossing in front of the window scared my mom who thought it was a huge rat, and Mom allowed me to have a dog outside. Another memory is definitely one from era. Besides the large front window in the living room, there was one on the side of the room, which looked out to a small cement patio, which boasted a small brick wall or seat. It was there the neighborhood children would sit and watch our television through the window. Until Mom would invite them in.
Other houses, other impressions allow me to walk through the rooms once more and each house brings memories. The house in Lincoln with a built in bar and bedrooms so small a bed barely fit in them, the farm house in Missouri with a floor furnace at the base the stairs which never quite heated my upstairs room, the house in Kearney with a screened in porch that we slept in on hot winter nights (Mom yelled at Dad one night for his bright light but it wasn’t Dad but a power man on our light pole.), and several others. Each House calls up memories and I have found a fertile field to work through for my story,

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

In the Garden Lone

" I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, and the voice I hear...falling on my ear...the Son of God discloses....AND he walks with me and he talks with me and tells me I am his own, and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known"
Hymn written by C Austin Miles , 1913.


A friend posted these lines on Facebook today and reading them zapped me mentally back to the place where I found my definition of faith. It was in a church ,of course ,but of a type few people have had the blessing to attend. Yet it was here I came to find a basis for faith in my life.

A white clapboard building with no steeple stood alone in the field at the mile crossroads near our Missouri farm. It was not Methodist, Baptist, Lutheran or any established religion; instead it welcomed a congregation of all these sects. the members were the the ten or twenty families that lived in the four mile square of the church's setting. Women came in good dresses but not Dress up dresses; men came in slacks and even engineer striped bib overalls. They came every Sunday though our circuit rider preacher only came bi- weekly.The empty pulpit Sunday was Sunday school for all ages.People came because it was a community gathering place and more important where the New Testament love thy neighbor was more than just words.

If a member was late due to a difficult calving the men went to help and services waited. If a member had a problem at harvest or planting, the men were there to help with it. A new baby or a death signaled an onslaught of casseroles, help cleaning or whatever else was needed to ease the problem. Children giggled, ran in the church yard, and learned by the example set by their parents. It was good place to see christianity in action without judgment for the most part or perhaps as pre-teen I did not look deeply enough to see it. My father not a church goer during our city days attended here and that with everything else made it a special place.

Hymns were a part of every Sunday. Everyone sang and sang loudly lead by a slightly out of tune upright. Even the tone deaf of which I was one sang with gusto. Two hymns still float through my mind. The first at the moment nameless contained the words "some one far from harbor you may lead to shore." Simple words but what a dictate to a believer. Your light or rather your actions impress others and affect them.Show caring and acceptance and people blossom. That clapboard wood stove heated country church followed that dictate,and all who walked through the door were welcome.

But the one that affected me the most is quoted above. Alone away from the distractions of life one can feel the soul open to the spirit. As a Missouri preteen that meant going to my room and while not exactly praying fervently,I was able to think through the events of my day and sort it out in a way that pleased me , my parents and my blossoming idea of faith. I came to believe that faith was not a matter of set prayers from a book but an inner recognition of something guiding life,all life. Of course, it was not fully formed and in truth perhaps is not done yet.

Now as an adult I have gone through health issues, a divorce, family stress, and work stress. Not easy and in reality not one of us can say we have not had such issues. We are all alone when these things attack us. They can pull us all the way down, or we can grow from them. When one hits me, I mentally open the door to that garden, meditate undistracted by life for just a few minutes, and my faith fills me with the belief that He is there with me. The joy comes.

My faith sustains me and allows me to be less centered on my needs and more on the people who need me. Like the men and women of that simple church, my faith leads me to join others to help others when the need is there. Thanks may never come, but the action of doing something as simple as picking up groceries, having coffee with an open ear and a silent mouth, or any other task enriches me in a way I can not explain. But the results gives me joy and the garden in my soul grows bigger.




Monday, August 3, 2015

Monday morning and what have I done. Not much but to be honest I have been only be awake less than an hour. A 7AM awakening is rare for me. Still I have ,lets see, unloaded and loaded dishwasher, fed dogs and walked them, wrote to the principals of a district I have registered to sub at and wondering if I should do so for the other districts, and am now writing a brief post.

Plans for today---clean the kitchen area, prepare t-shirts to send to repeat, write, knit. All these are indoors out of the heat events and if I go out today , what will I do. A quick grocery run would be on the docket and also a trip to buy weed killer as the earlier one has made no progress in treating the infestation in my back yard. A library trip is needed also this week.

Such mundane things, fill each of our lives Yours probably is very much like mine. This year I no longer have a Monday to Friday run to work. Though I have registered as a sub I will determine when I work if I am asked to work. Pals who do this say I will be surprised at the amount of work that will be offered. I hope some does as I am a person who lies to be busy and who gets more done when I am busy. Still I am working with two groups to bring moderation to politics in my state. Neither are party affiliated groups. Instead they want voters to vote, and to votes with a sound knowledge of the choices all the candidates support. I expect to do more with these.

Still much more to be said about those ideas but the dogs are settled and snoring so time to shower and clean the kitchen.
Writing follows that and the other projects listed above that. What is your August Monday shaping up to be?

Sunday, August 2, 2015

New August

August already and it is a new August for me. I am not doing the preschool tasks that a classroom teacher does. I no longer have a classroom. It is a change, and I am adjusting. No more wondering how roads are on winter days as I can now choose not to go out. No more professional envelopment meetings. No more odd schedules to adjust my classroom plans so the lesson can still be taught. There are many "no mores", and I am adjusting.

Of course, it means less income but I should have enough to survive. I have also put in for subbing at several schools and pals who sub tell me I will be as busy as I want to be. I hope so. Also will have some college classes, but they have to make so they are always iffy. But I have adjusted my insurances etc. This,too, will be an adjustment but happily it should lower income taxes. ( though house taxes will be going up but less said about that the better to avoid apolitical rant.)

On the other hand I have more time to do what I want to when I want to do it. I can read all day, go to the library for research, knit, take part in Hutch Rec events. Time to fill is a real treat. I may have to schedule cleaning etc as I tend to wallow in the fun things of life. Give me a book or a project and dusting and sweeping recede in importance.

So the next few weeks require me to meet principals in the Nickerson district, get trained in Learning Zone then new web learning format for the college,attending Gale Walls Studio opening, go to Women for Kansas and work an event at Strataca. Also will apply for part time work as I detest not being busy.

So the august of many changes has come. It will interesting to see how the changes affect me. Keep reading.