A Blog Award to Share

While I was on vacation I tried not to think of blogging, because I didn't have internet anyway and there was so much natural beauty all around me every minute of each day, it would have been ridiculous to sit in front of my computer for even a minute. But one day Fashionista and I felt the urge, she to connect with her peeps via facebook and me to peek into blogland. Sooo, while I.T. napped we snuck into the truck, put pedal to the metal and high tailed it over to the local public library in the village near the cottage. Fash slipped into a comfy coffee shop across from the library to hook into their free WiFi and I got in line to use a computer at the library. There's a 30 minute limit on computer time and you have to sign in so the librarian knows exactly how long you've been waiting and how long you've been online.

I didn't have to wait too long, but the computers were all in use and right after I got on a couple guys came in the door and signed the registry, so I truly only had 30 minutes to surf.

I began my blog reading with Easy Street, Mrs. E. , so right off the bat I saw that she had been given a beautiful award. She was to pass it on to some other blogs of her choosing. And she chose me! I was giddy. My first award! All I had to do was accept it and pass it on to others of my choosing. What a delight!

It takes me a long time to figure out how to do these types of cut and paste activities, so my 30 minutes, which was almost up already because I kept re-reading Mrs. E's post where she mentioned giving me the award, was not going to be enough time to accept and choose and cut and paste and link. But tonight I will sacrifice a bit of sleep to share the award with 14 blogs that I have found uplifting. (Mrs. E.'s is one of them that tops my list, but I don't think I am supposed to pass the award back to her- again) I list them in no specific order, I love them all.

#1. Life at the W.A.C.K.O.S.- 40winkzzz is my real time friend who tried forever to get me to blog and I said it was dumb, who would read what I wrote and why would I want them to, I said. But then I read hers. It was funny. I was hooked. She came over and helped me get mine set up.

#2. 2nd Cup of Coffee- yes I know everyone knows Lid, she's a famous blogger, BUT she was my very first follower (after 40winkzzz) and that encouraged me to no end. Her blog is hysterical and she posts at midnight just about every single night of her life, so far as I can tell. So, I get my morning coffee and click over for a read that I know will be there. Her flowing java is alluring.

#3. Best Bets- my real time neighbor is diligent about finding deals. She shares them and I have saved $$ , following her leads. I got a $1 sandwich at Jimmy John's because of her blog. If you need a coupon, go visit her.

#4. Greg's General Store- the award is very pink and flowery and not very guy like, but I just have to give an award to Greg. He shares my love of farmer's markets and fishing and is a wonderful story teller. I giggle at all of his posts.

#5. Heaven is in Belgium- Jientje (Gene-chu) is a fabulous photographer. Her pictures are calming, clear and detailed. She is so sweet and she'll answer back to your comment on her post with a comment on her post, so always check back if you ask her a question, because she will answer you there.

#6. Merrie Days- a doting grandmother with lots of pictures of grand babies and interesting stories about them. So adorable.

#7. Monkeys Are Funny- MyADHDMe is a nut from the tree I grew on, I think. She reminds me of myself x 7 and she absolutely cracks me up. I admire her- she is a firefighter! Someone once posted a comment to her that they'd want to fight a fire with her if they ever had to fight one. I agree- she could get you through it.

#8. My Hands...His Glory- skoots1mom is a faithful reader of many blogs. You see her everywhere encouraging others. She has pretty photos accompanying her posts.Her blog is a constant reminder of our savior, Jesus.

#9. Rich Gifts Graphics and Blog Design- Edie loves the Lord and creating beautiful blogs for others who love Him, too. She was the first to get me to write a poem on my blog- that was fun!

#10. Pachyderms and Wizard Wyrms- my real time cousin K.D. in Ohio. When I read her posts I can just hear her telling it and see her telling it. She has collected elephants as long as I can remember and I like how she worked them into her blog title. The explanation of the title can be found on her blog- go see!

#11. Scattered Stones- I found her blog when I was studying Ecclesiastes with my daughter. She has Ecclesiastes 3:5 on her header and her blog is orange! So cool.

#12. Be Still and Know- Robin has taught me a thing or two about blogging and about trusting the Lord for all things and about patience. Her blog is peaceful to me.

#13. This Ain't New York- a very new blog to me, I recently found it. Her profile says she enjoys learning every day about God- I like to hang around with that.

#14. ...make music from your heart to the Lord, Eph. 5:19...- Sara's blog is also brand new to me. It is inspiring right off the bat and intrigued me with a puzzler the first post I read, actually. She hosts the 365 project that many participate in and I look forward to joining in soon!

The best part about all the blogs I've found- each is written by another who is seeking to walk in the way of the Lord, Jesus Christ and therefore there is always something of great value to me to be found within the posts and profiles. I really enjoy that and am encouraged by it.

Thank you, Mrs. E. for passing this award on to me. I hope all of you will enjoy passing it on to others! You're supposed to copy and paste the award (save it like a picture- maybe not the official way, but Mrs. E. and I couldn't find any HTML code to grab) and link it back to me. Get your scissors and Elmer's ready, it's a lot of cutting and pasting!

Heidi

Vacation- Part 2

When I.T.-ologist (I like saying this, but I do realize it is annoying, we'll shorten to I.T. I call him this because he is an information technologist, but I.T. stands for information technology, so information technology-ologist- a computer geek- but he's a very handsome geek) was young or maybe not even born, not sure now, his grandfather purchased a small, but still five bedroom, cottage on a lake in northern Michigan near Lake Michigan. I.T.'s mom is one of five children, so she and her siblings had fun taking their children to this wonderful vacation spot every summer.

The cottage was fully furnished with furniture and dishes in the cupboards. Most of that furniture and some of those dishes are still there. I.T. and I have taken our children to "the cottage" every summer of their lives, as have his siblings and his cousins. Ten families share this cottage, each using it for a week in the summer. Sometimes more than one family goes up together so cousins can play in the lake and fish together. Recently, some have braved the winter and stayed at the cottage during vacations to a nearby ski resort. Keeping the downstairs warm is not a problem, because there is a fireplace with an efficient insert and blower to pump the heat out. The four upstairs bedrooms are like a deep freeze in winter, but attempts are being made to find inexpensive ways to get the heat up there. Those who choose to stay at the cottage in winter months must chip a hole through the ice on the lake to get buckets of water for flushing the toilet. No showers available in winter- all water used for cooking and cleaning must be hauled in and dumped out the back door. Our family has experienced this- once- long time ago.

Our friendly welcome to the cottage bear was carved from a big tree that used to stand just to the right of this back door. It provided too much shade to the property, which caused moss to thrive on the roof and its roots were wrecking havoc on the drainfield, so it sadly had to be chopped down. It was one of the tallest trees on the lake. The cottage is humble. Simple. Care has been taken to keep it structurally strong and it is certainly functional. Food is kept cold in the fridge, we cook inside on the old stove from the 1930's or 40's and bake in its oven. The drain field has been reworked so that we can shower and flush without flooding the backyard. But we watch nature here- no television and we don't have internet. For years, before cell phones became commonplace, we did not have a phone while at the cottage. I remember the first time I.T. brought his first cell phone up to the cottage and it rang while we were there. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up, "someone is calling us here?" It seemed very wrong- almost criminal.
We sometimes entertain ourselves with projects like this one. This is my family in pinecone. I.T.(with fishing pole), me (my sister made this one, what can I say), Outside the Box (with a big collegiate H painted on his birch bark shirt, denoting his alma mater), Pilgrim (acorn top beanie and moss hippie hair) and Fashionista adorned in green beads found on the beach. We listen to Lake Wobegon on this radio on Saturday nights. We fish. I enjoy it! I just have a really hard time holding the worm while baiting the hook. Instead, I lay the worm on the carpet of my dad's bass boat and I stab it through the gut being careful not to touch the worm, so I won't feel its pain. I have to do this at least twice to be sure the worm will stay on the hook through several casts. It causes me so much emotional stress and actual illness (throw up caught in my throat) to do this, I wonder if it is even morally right. I prefer plastic lures.Fash found fish first! I guess it looked good enough to eat right off the hook. She caught two small mouth bass, I caught one, I.T. caught one and he caught one perch. We actually threw them all back. No eating- except all the snacks we brought along. A bag of Good & Plenty, Jolly Ranchers, trail mix with M&M's- for some, baiting hooks causes an appetite apparently. I wouldn't know, personally.This is blurry, but I didn't take this one. I just caught the fish with my agonized worm. We call this "cottage hair" by the way- all the rage up north on the lake.

We fished until the sun disappeared. Every day a new adventure awaits Seven swans a swimming, but I could not get them all in one frame with clarity.

Of course no trip to the cottage is complete until we've strolled the street of the local village. (blurry again, I was learning about all the settings on my new camera. I obviously do not have them figured out yet)

Anyway, there is a sampling. I've been sitting here for an hour and a half, so I can imagine how long this post must be by now. We sometimes get an extra long weekend or two besides our one full week at the cottage, so perhaps we will make it up there again before summer's end. I hope so.

Peace,

Heidi

Vacation- Let's Make it our Permanent Home

Somewhere between this concrete suburb and "the cottage" in northern Michigan, I.T., Fashionista and I were swallowed by time that stands still even though the sun rises and sets as usual. We'd wake to the sound of tiny waves gently washing the beach luring us out of comfy cottage beds to the end of the dock surrounded by glimmering cool lake teaming with life and covered in sunshine.

The Solstice Festival was happening, so we checked that out.

A band was just getting set up overlooking a beer garden and there were games and tables of people handing out information about the Greenscape project and Community Gardens Work! etc. The smell of grilling brats wafted among vendors selling various wares. The scooters were our favorite. The next time we have an extra 4000 bucks laying around, we're going to buy the orange one- her name is Stella. Here's a picture of the pink one, Buddy, with Stella, our baby, in the background.

Fash and I have an affinity for orange.

Views of lakes wherever we roamed- ahhh vacation, let's make it our permanent home.

We floated down this warm channel out to Lake Michigan and collected smooth stones to paint on. Fashionista meditated while standing one legged on a rock. The talent!

Astounding! Laundry calling, I'll have to post part two later- the swans, the fishing, the fish!

Stay tuned...

Heidi

Going on Vacation

We're off to the lake! No t.v. No computer. Just reading and writing the old fashioned way with pen on notebook paper. We'll catch fish and watch sunsets and see the bald eagle. I'll take pictures and share when I return. Happy mid-to getting- to- the- end June everybody!

*I'd like to thank my dad for letting us borrow his bass boat- again!

Heidi

Outdoor Wednesday

Southern Daydreamer has invited us to join her for some fresh outdoor air. If you'd like to park it here in the sand with me, my two sisters and my brother- have a seat blogfriend. This is Lake Michigan! Last summer.
Or we can get out the binoculars and zoom in on the bluebirds nesting at Grandpa's centennial farm. While we're at it, we just might see a herd of fifty deer in the field, especially at dusk. That's very exciting!

How about if we head out to the jungle and swing with the monkeys for awhile. (Just kidding, this is really my bathroom- indoor plumbing, so I can't really include it in Outdoor Wednesday- sorry MyADHDMe)

Outta time- good night!

Heidi

A Give Away to Make your Day!

Our creative and inquisitive Edie- Rich Gift,

Is having a giveaway- go here- be swift!

She's drawing on June 19th, out of her hat,

A lucky blog buddy to get where it's at!

Where it's at, is at Rich Gifts Graphics and Blog Designs- true,

She'll hip up your blog with a makeover for you!

OR- if you already have all the style you need now,

You may gift away the winning makeover. Like- Wow!

How cool to pass on Edie's love of blessing another,

If you choose to give away your win to some other!

It is fun to win, but here's the real story,

It's really all about giving God the glory!

Blessings!

Heidi

Finally- Summer!

Finally! Tomorrow is the first day of summer for Fashionista and me. We had to wait until the dreaded ACT test was over with and that happened on Saturday. It was her second attempt- trying for a higher score. That test makes me crazy. I went to college, got a bachelor's degree, but I tried the science questions on her practice tests. They are impossible, especially in the time frame given for that section of the test. And the English test part. The correct answer is not even the way we really talk, so you certainly can't figure it out by asking yourself if that sounds right. She studied hard for it. I am so glad it's over.

Let's all just forget about it. Lookie here: I'm still figuring out how my new camera works- all those settings and such. I'm not too patient when it comes to reading directions. But I think I am going to have to study at least some of the manual. It's just a little point and shoot. Nikon. Coolpix. But one blog follower says on his profile that anyone can take a good picture with any camera- it's all in the skill of the photographer. I hope he's right, and that I can learn the skill. The shadow is me. You knew that, right?


Reading the directions might have helped me with the ACT test years ago, too. Not thinking about it. Done. Over. This is a cherry tomato growing out of the bottom of a planter with basil, oregano and a petunia, for color, growing out the top. In the background is a scalloped rock garden with varying veggies planted on each level. Spinach is coming up in the white planter in the background left. I have to fence everything to keep all kinds of vegetarians out. There is a dense strip of woods behind here where all the critters, who used to live in several thousand acres of forest, now reside in high rise tree house apartments. They can't believe their good fortune- a local supermarket so close at hand paw.
This tree grows in front of, through, around the back of and back through our fence by the pool. We haven't opened the pool-yet. Michigan just made it out of the 60's- I'm talking degrees here, folks. Put that on the ACT science test! Gee willikers. So, the verdict is still out on the camera. The pics don't seem as clear as what I had in mind and I'm not sure I know what I'm doing regarding lighting. Actually, I'm sure I don't have any idea what I am doing regarding lighting- or focusing. I'm doing a whole lot of comparing of my first try pics to some extremely beautiful ones you'll enjoy here. It is possible I have set expectations of my particular camera and my existing photographic skill a teeny bit too high.

But I'm happy it's summer for us now! Plenty of time to practice- something other than English grammar, science and mathematics.

Soon it will be summer for Michigan, too. Sizzle, sizzle. (A girl can dream)

Heidi

Whatever

The Sam Walton's gift to the world in my town employs a shopping cart handler, who reminds me of my late Uncle Walt. For this reason, I call ours- Walt-Mart. Every time I shop there, I vow I will never do it again. But the prices are low, blah, blah, blah... I should not be this ungrateful, I know. Thank you Mr. Walton.

Fashionista thought she saw a swimsuit top to die for at Walt-Mart, so she drove us over there to scout for it. Soon she will have her license and I will not have to travel white knuckled with a death grip on the shoulder strap of the seat belt and leaning sharply toward the center console in the passenger's seat beside her. The parking part is my favorite. I'm always relieved to exit the cab and air out my pits, while I spit powdered enamel from teeth clenched so tightly, grinding is unnecessary. My molars recede with each practice drive.

After thanking Walt, but we did not need a cart today, I sulked after Fashionista toward the swimwear section. Suddenly, I sensed, out of the corner of my astigmatic right eye, a stalker at 4 o'clock behind me. I say stalker, because an internal alarm rang furiously, indicating an invasion of my personal space. And my palms were feeling clammy. Trying to give benefit of the doubt, I tested my hypothesis. When I moved slightly right, the space invader moved slightly right. A 90 degree turn to the left and the move was imitated again. Sweat beaded up on my lip.

Then, as if nothing had happened, the following figure nonchalantly stepped around me to within three inches of my nose and exclaimed,

"I like your shirt."

It took me a couple seconds to recompose. Then I remembered the words on my back.

"Uh, oh that, oh, right, right, thanks," I managed a squeak of gratitude to the up close in person woman.

The front of this t-shirt says "Whatever", a word forbidden by I.T.-ologist, because whenever our kids said whatever, it always really meant "I don't care" or "I'm not listening" or "go fly a kite" or any number of disrespectful comments they wished they could say instead. By wearing this shirt I can reclaim a perfectly good word corrupted by the current culture and proclaim the Good Word in the process.

The Whatever shirt is a particularly good choice when swimsuit shopping. It lends positive perspective to a hopeless situation. As always, we did not find the killer swimsuit top. Now we are forced to visit the maul mall, where we will have another big old bawl, when for the umpteenth time we'll be reminded that a noninvasive bathing suit top (or bottom) simply does not exist- anymore.

I'll take whatever she's wearing (below). It's from about 1900. Perfect for a day at the beach in Michigan.

Heidi

Better than Vicks VapoRub

When I was about seven our family moved to Hamilton, Illinois. This distanced us from the majority of our relatives, who lived in Ohio, by enough miles that it took at least eleven hours to backtrack for a visit. Therefore, we did not see Grandpa Davis and the gang as often as we would have liked. But we got to know him pretty well vicariously through my mother's love and admiration for him. One thing we learned was, while he was not a medical doctor, he could cure most illnesses by swabbing the inside of the throat with a gob of black goo that smelled like turpentine, delivering it on the end of a skewer length Q-tip. After that his instructions were to rub a thick coating of Vicks VapoRub all over the chest and go directly to bed. At the onset of any cold, my mother would pull out our little jar of the salve and launch into this story, while I imagined Grandpa's barrel sized vat of Vicks VapoRub, probably kept in the coal room of his basement, beneath a cloud of fumes hovering just under the lid.

Of course the greater lesson was: When visiting Grandpa, do not, under any circumstance, ever say, "my throat hurts."

Sometime last week, I walked into our bathroom and noticed the familiar smell of Vicks VapoRub. Funny, nobody had been sick. I opened the double doors of the built in cabinet and scanned the area- two deep shelves jammed with bathroom and not -so -bathroom related items. The medicine type bottles and jars congregated middle left. I spied the Vicks VapoRub. Indeed the jar had escaped from its box, but when I sniffed near it, I did not smell the rub.

The next day, the noxious odor was more pronounced. I flung open the doors and inhaled. Pure menthol. I snatched up the Vicks jar and pushed it against my nose. The aroma was not emanating from this likely suspect. I packaged the innocent back into its box and closed the cupboard.

The day after that, a trip into the bathroom was enough to clear blocked sinuses. I upped the investigation by moving members of the cabinet, as in a game of chess, to see what might lie beneath or behind or beside. But nothing. Then it occurred to me, this could be a handy cure for the common cold. No more greasy, smelly chests. Sore throats and stuffy noses disappear with a few deep breaths from the open cabinet. I took a big drag through my nose. It really worked! At dinner, I told the family about it. Everyone had noticed the scent. Someone suggested we tack a flyer to a telephone pole in the neighborhood offering allergy relief to the masses. The thought was satisfying.

But on the fourth day the gas was emitting into the hallway. By the time I entered the bathroom, my eyes were so full of tears that I could not see. I would have to clean the cupboard. After eleven years of never cleaning it, this was going to be an all day task.

One by one I plucked each item from the abyss and placed it on the vanity behind me. I soon had a four foot long pile of medicine, candles, fossilized shampoo, soap rocks, vials of perfume, shells from the ocean, a feathered, black crow (that scared me to death at first touch) a kleenex box saved for its color scheme (the same one I'd hoped to use for redecorating the yet unpainted bathroom) face crayons for clowning, a miniature baby Jesus in a plastic cap manger decorated with brown construction paper in a basket weave design, a laminated place mat made by Outside the Box when he was in second grade that had been proclaiming to its cupboard mates for the past ten years that I was the best mom, a million tiny this and thats and a bottle of Tiger Balm Arthritis Rub, which had gooshed its guts out- the aromatic culprit. Below is a cross section of the loot. Tiger Balm Arthritis Rub ingredients include: camphor, menthol, cajuput oil (an extremely pungent heat rub developed in about 1870 as a decongestant inhalant) which explained the healing effect when opening the cupboard- and methylsulfonylmethane. So, I figured we were lucky the shelving hadn't disintegrated.

Obviously, this was the only way this cupboard would ever have gotten cleaned out. I threw away countless artifacts, but I returned the place mat so I will be reminded again in ten years that: "What is as lovely as my mother? An orange sunset at the day's end. A golden finch against the sun. A yellow tulip at tulip time. It's true all of these are lovely, But none are as lovely as you. The Best Mom." And I slid baby Jesus back into place among the myriad of suntan lotions, because I like the idea of always being able to find God in the midst of every circumstance.

There's still a faint wisp of menthol floating among the organization of that cupboard, just enough to keep me thinking about the possibility of patenting my invention of a special cabinet drenched in Tiger Balm Arthritis Rub, where the healing stench stays in the closet and owners need only fling wide the door and breathe to clear stuffed nasal passages and soothe a sore throat.

This is a welcome improvement on Grandpa's gagging technique. I know all my cousins will buy one. Would you?












Heidi

Friday's Fave Five

1. 
   

#40
Thanks Susanne at Living to Tell the Story for the fun Friday party. I already posted today, but I really wanted to do this again and it's only Friday once a week!


#5. Goat Milk? Well I do! I used to get it all the time from a farmer gal, but the goat dried up and it was the end of the deal. BUT now I found another mother goat and farmer girl and we are in with the goat milk again! Yeah! (Fashionista is lactose intolerant, but goat milk works fine and if the goats don't eat anything yucky, the milk tastes superb)


#4.Robin at Be Still and Know was talking about iced coffee today and after that I craved iced coffee sooo bad. Guess what? In the mailbox was a coupon for a FREE iced coffee (no purchase necessary- bonus!) from McDonalds. This is their latest menu item. It comes in mocha and caramel. I got the caramel and it was deliciofabuarvelous! Mmmm. I love it how these things just work out so fine.


#3.Don't have to cook- AGAIN- tonight- more graduation open houses than you can shake a stick at around here and the invites have flooded our box this year. Fun! Fireworks at this one! Ooooo aaahhh.


#2. All the cute kids who have been hibernating over the freezing Michigan winter, that is only now just beginning to abate, are scootin' around the neighborhood and gigglin' at, like, 6 a.m. every morning! That wakes me up and is better than any alarm clock radio sound.


#1. Did you see that I struck the 'a' from the word goat in #5? Uh huh, that's right, I'm bad. Go tell it on the mountain, John Boy! Robin showed us how. Yes. Us. Because the only dumb question is the one you do not ask- go, newbie bloggers and those who don't know, to my post entitled "Follow" from Thursday, scroll to the comments and learn how. I love blogschool!


#1. While counting up my followers doesn't give my life purpose and meaning (see my post Whose Line (Life) is it Anyway?) I do find it fun that some people are reading my blog of their own free will- so thank you 20 followers.

Follow

Fashionista and I are reading Isaiah. That's where a whole bunch of people get warned about the destruction that is coming their way- the consequence they have to face for their insistence on going every way, but God's way. But He does promise that there will be a remnant and from it He will build a nation of followers. He will ultimately save His people and be glorified among the nations- forever.

I am thankful to identify with the remnant. I have heard the voice of the Lord and have been given epiphany eyes to see the truth of his word- in bits with struggles, but still with joy... As for every knee bowing and tongue confessing- we wait I guess. It's coming. So, that's the important following I do.

The not so important, but fun and hobby type following I do, is the following of blogs. And I have noticed that I am over following many blogs. What I mean is, I am following many blogs twice. Two 2 Thinks profile icons are sitting in grids on many blogs. I want to apologize for this. I told one blogger already and now I am telling all, I don't know how I got my pic on your grid two times. Furthermore, I don't know how to take one off and leave one on, so that I can properly follow you one time and quit messing up your grid. I have studied it, though. Just haven't figured it out, yet. I'm sorry for that annoyance.

These are some of the other questions I hope to have answered before China becomes the next super power of the world- officially:

How do you type a line through a word and have it show up that way, anyway?

Where do you get those buttons with HTML code underneath that others can grab and paste on their site in order to participate in fun, weekly blog parties like " Friday Faves" and "Thankful Thursday" and "30x5" ?

And what about the awards and trophies and such that so many bloggers are proudly displaying in their sidebars- where do those come from, who gives those out, do you register to win them or submit to a contest, is there a blog board?

Where is the bling? The colorful, jazzy buttons you all have lighting up your sidebars. Is it even called a sidebar? How can a blogger get a sidebar on both sides? I don't see any templates like that at blogspot. Are there free ones? What if you switch to one, do you lose your current blog contents?

Is it legal to go to Google and grab any picture you want and post it on your blog? I've been doing that and then checking my e-mail box for fines or warning notices.

Finally, for now, how did those drawings of that suntanning lady get on this post? That is incredible. How long might that have taken, I wonder? I know that's grad school level stuff.

The bloggers I read are some of the most intelligent, creative, humorous, inspiring individuals on the face of the planet. Refreshing.

Heidi

Thankful Thursday

Thought I'd participate in this thankful Thursday party sponsored by Truth4thejourney.

#1. Pilgrim got a job in California! Yeah! I am thankful.
#2. That annual test came back 'normal'. Yeah! Thankful again.
#3. Planted the veggies and some petunias. Thankful for growing things and summer coming.
#4. 40winkzzz party was fun! Thankful for friendships.
#5. I.T.-ologist hasn't strangled me yet for blogging all hours of the day and night. Really, though, I am thankful to be alive! Life is good.

Whose Line (Life) Is It Anyway?

The farther I wander down Blogger's Path, the more enlightened I am about the propensity toward turning every daily thought and deed into a potential post- it's simply involuntary for bloggers. It's as natural as breathing or itching a mosquito bite. Bloggers are writers, even if not renowned authors. And I'm amazed every day at how many writers there actually are and how much commonality exists between these writers. I used to think that the generation and regeneration of words forming and organizing themselves in my head all day long, as I brush my teeth, dry my hair, drive to anywhere, fry chicken, plant tomatoes...was an experience unique to me -just part of the way God cleverly designed me with an entertainment center built into my head. But no. It is an idiosyncrasy of the writer. But how many of these words and ideas are ever truly original?

I am discovering that the thoughts and experiences and even the words of the blog writers in my new world, while different in the particulars, are surprisingly similar to my own!

Here are a few personal examples:

One of the very first posts I ever read was one about the fear of traveling written by Lid, who was about to go on an airplane. I remember after reading it I thought that it really could have been me who wrote it. Not that I would have written it that well or with that same sharp wit and wonderful words. I couldn't have done that. But the person Lid was writing about, who is more than a little afraid to fly and isn't so savvy at getting around in unfamiliar cities- that person is me, to a T. At the bottom of the post were 18 comments from people who were also that person. Yesterday, 37 others, including myself were the person in Lid's story that unrolled, revealing that many have walked out of a store forgetting to pay for an item in their cart.

Earlier this week I read MyADHDMe's post on tanning and the part about copping the perfect tan in the olden days was quite parallel to how we used to get one in 1979- right down to the slathering on of baby oil and trying to drum up the patience to remain lateral on the lounge chair under the sun for more than 15 minutes. I had already written my own version of that post.

On another occasion I was thinking about how behind the times I am and how my new blogging fever was "bringing my computer skills up into the 21st century". Later I was reading my real time friend and blogger Best Bets and that very day she posted those very words.

This morning the phenomenon presented again, only not in blogland, but in bookland.

First some background.

I have more driving hang-ups than I have hooks to hang them up on. This subject is so broad it must wait for another post. But because of my driving dilemmas, my concerned and protectoral husband gave me a GPS for Christmas this past year. I love that talking wonder to smithereens, especially when she says, "you have arrived". I cannot express how relieved and happy I always feel when she assures me that I have arrived. Since Christmas I have been thinking about how I am this person who is definitely waiting to "arrive"- not just to the museum downtown, but to that place in life where I'll know for sure that I am what I am supposed to be and am doing what I am supposed to be doing. I've been mulling this over for about four months and was recently thinking about using it to create a thought provoking post.

For Mother's Day, Outside the Box bought me a copy of a shiny, orange book called Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist. From the very first paragraph, I was the person Shauna was writing about in the book. It was uncanny, especially because I'd been noticing all those shared brain waves I was having with so many bloggers. I was becoming unnerved. As Shauna began to reveal more details about who she was and her childhood etc., I rested easier. We did have separate identies, but I still connected with the heart of each chapter, so it was perfect. I was enjoying the book. Then this morning, still lying in my warm, comfy bed, I picked up Cold Tangerines and turned to page 207 where I had left off the night before. When I got to the very last paragraph on the page, I found this:

*"My dad used to have one of those cars where you can plug in your destination and the woman's voice will tell you where to turn and when to stop to get you there. And when you get there, she says, in this totally dramatic, slightly sexy, slow voice, "You. Have. Arriiiiiiived."

Oh. My. Gosh. I couldn't turn the page. I couldn't believe I just read those words in this book. I would never use my brilliant analogy in a post. Was this possible? I did make myself read on, but there was a tight feeling in my chest:

*"And we burst out (turn the page) laughing at each other the first time we heard it. We wanted her to say it again. We wanted to plug in more places, and then go to them, just so that she would tell us again that We. Have. Arrived. It was the greatest car in the world. You knew, cognitively, that she was a computer, and that she was only talking about arriving at the dry cleaner, but another part of you just melted when she said it. "Me? Me? I've arrived? Thank you! Say it again!"

Yep. That was pretty much it. My thoughts exactly, except I didn't have the whole car, just the GPS unit. Shauna goes on to make the comparison of how she, for so long, had been waiting to arrive, to get to wherever it was she was going and stay there. She concludes that "we will not arrive. But we can become"- by just keeping on moving forward etc. etc. She makes a beautiful statement at the end of this chapter, but I won't ruin it for you here.

I stewed over this for about two minutes, then I plunked my feet on the floor and walked fervently to the kitchen carrying the shiny, orange book. How did I feel? How did I really feel?

Outside the Box appeared, looking for breakfast. I explained the whole thing to him, the long version from beginning to end- about my commonality with blog writers and my idea for a post with a you have arrived analogy. I used all my best arguments to defend my feelings where needed. He listened with a slight knowing smile he inherited from his father. Then he gave me the 22 year old with a college degree rebuttal of what I had just said.

He reminded me that God created us all in his image and while we all have our individual identities, as a whole we are the body of Christ, one in the same. Humanity identifies with itself quite naturally. He said it has been this way since forever. Additionally, if you take a group of people who all like to write, who are, for the most part, in this case, all from the North American continent and who all have computers- then you already have a semi-homogeneous group. He expounded these spiritual and scientific points until he had it all figured out. Then he ate his eggs, bacon and toast and left.

One crumb of his food for thought stuck in my mind:

He'd just had dinner the night before with his former roommate from college, a scholar from a small village in Kenya who had received a rare opportunity to study in the United States. The boy had recently received two calls of distress from his mother, who was home in Kenya. There wasn't enough clean water for all of the villagers and that was causing all sorts of problems for the people there. Outside the Box challenged me to identify with that.

While I was unscrambling this brain breakfast, Fashionista finally roused and scuffled her way into the kitchen. She proceeded to tell me about her Tuesday evening. Downtown, at the weekly, outdoor swing dancing event, some kid was taking a survey for his church. He had approached Fashionista and her friends and asked them question #1."What gives your life meaning and purpose?"

She looked at me, "So what would you say, Mom?"

I needed more coffee. But I did learn this. If being the first person to publish what I think is an original thought gives my life meaning and purpose, it is time to take a trip to Kenya.

*Niequist, Shauna. Cold Tangerines. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2007

Heidi

Roof and Re-doo

I.T.-ologist and I went biking around the neighborhood looking at roofs on Friday night. What color roof do most red brick houses with white shutters have? That was the million dollar question of the evening. We're getting a new roof and wouldn't you know black is not the only roof color out there. I never noticed that before. I notice when the sun leaves a sky full of deep red-orange. Or when the mailman forgets to put the flag down. Oil on the driveway doesn't escape me. I found a wooley bear crawling in the corner of the garage last week.

But I never noticed that my row after row of suburban neighbors had anything other than standard black roofs. We biked by tan roofs and black with red and white alternating shingles. There were green roofs and a blue sparkley one. Some were black fading to grey and then to white and back to black. One even looked sort of like the pattern on the wooley bear. Many matched the color of the brick on the house or contrasted perfectly with the siding.

Anyway, we're having a hard time picturing any other color on the top of our house besides the black that is already there.

We tabled the decision and pedaled on over to the Frosty Treat.

There, a boy about 8 years old cut in front of me while I was making another really big decision- vanilla ice cream in a cone or turtle sundae. The girl inside bent down and peered out the window at him. He held up a yellow square of ice cream on a stick. I assume it once looked like this, but his had two hollow spots where the eyes were missing and his red part was beginning to frown.

He said to the ice cream girl, "Can I have a re-doo?" It didn't immediately register with her what he was saying and she asked him to repeat. He said, "A re-doo. This isn't what I expected."

I couldn't wait to hear how she was going to handle this, but the boy's mother, just noticing he had gone up to the window, rushed to her rescue and told the ice cream girl that she'd already explained to her son that they don't do re-doo's and that he had to live with his choice. I felt sorry for the kid and I really wanted to see what the ice cream people train their employees to say at times like these. But I also had to hand it to the mother for taking advantage of the teachable moment- think carefully about your choice, then stick with it and make it work.

This whole incident made me just a bit nervous. I wasn't going to be able to get a re-doo. I ordered the turtle. It was exactly what I expected and so was the spare tire that appeared around my waist as I ate it.

Over at the picnic table area where I sat packing on the pounds, while I.T. ate his humble little vanilla in a small cone, I saw the Sponge Bob boy. He wasn't eating the yellow melty square pants. A little girl not too far from him was licking away at that. He was enjoying blue moon in a cup with a spoon. I smiled at his ingenuity.

I'm guessing this boy knows the color of every roof in his neighborhood.

So, any thoughts on what color roof looks best on a red brick house with white trim?

Heidi