Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Tuesday Ten: Blast from the past

Killing two birds with one stone today. Today's Tuesday Ten brought to you courtesy of an open blogger "tag": Link to seven past posts with the same theme. But it's Tuesday, and "Tuesday Seven" just doesn't have the same ring.

Tuesday Ten: This Good Life Re-Runs

1. Blueberry Cobbler

Choosing perfect days.

Just lately I've realized how quickly the time flies by. The baby I rocked yesterday is tall and beautiful, dancing her way out of girlhood. Tomorrow I'll be rocking my grandbabies thinking "Where did my life go?" I wish I'd learned sooner to choose happiness over regrets, and to choose contentment over resentment. Today I will choose to remember the blueberries and sunshine. I will give the people I value the grace and love they deserve instead of grumping about their faults, and I will extend that grace to myself. I will treasure the wonderful moments of my life and theirs so that when I rock the babies of my babies my stories will be of picking blueberries and running through the sprinkler and reading good books and laughing in the hammock.

That's what this blog is partly about: It allows me to remember and record the sweetness that is my life, to remember just how blessed I really am.

There's a darn good cobbler recipe at the end of that post. Mmmmmmmmmm. Cobbler.

2. Boobies

Nudity in art.

Today's work was this painting, Nude with Hexagonal Quilt, George Bellows...Seven-year-old gent, giggling and pointing: "Look, boobies."

His middle brother immediately covered his mouth and started giggling. "Boobies. Hehehehe."

Sigh. Really?

I have to decide how to handle nudity in art before I've had my coffee?

Never a dull moment here.

3. Grandpa's Store

The lovely ladies and fine young gents in front of Grandpa's store, 2004-2008.

4. Tuesday Ten: Who'd-a Thunk It? and a companion post, Road Map

Ten Things I Never Thought I'd Be...at Forty.

Well logically, of course, I knew in my head that someday I'd turn forty years old. Duh. But do we really believe it in our hearts before we get there? Suddenly thirty-nine rolled around and I panicked: "Oh my gosh, I'm really going to be forty! I still feel twenty-five!" When I was in my twenties, I thought that once I reached my forties my life was pretty much over. I had my whole life mapped out, but somehow the road disappeared into the mists somewhere around my thirty-ninth birthday.

...and am I where I wanted to be at forty? Hell no.

I haven't overcome my many faults. I am still impatient, cross, hasty, impulsive, sentimental, lazy, shy, and not very serious or ambitious. But now I like myself anyway. I've come to terms with the fact that my hair is never going to be glossy and thick and straight. I've decided to take up the guitar just so that I can learn something new. I'd still like to move to the country but it's not going to ruin my life if it never happens. At 40, I wake up grateful for the blessings I've been given instead of feeling unhappy about the things that I don't have.

5. Peace, Peace, Peace
...on earth, Goodwill to men. Music can bring me to tears, as can innocence, and sweetness and beautiful young voices.

...something magical happened. They forgot they were performing and they just sang together. Beautifully. Sweetly. Simply. "Peace, peace, peace on earth...."
The elderly woman next to me stopped talking. The staff stopped to listen. I had tears in my eyes. A woman sitting in the front row quavered "Beautiful. Beautiful," when the girls finished their song...in that moment they sang of peace on earth and meant it. When these children sing "Let us all sing together of peace on earth," they still believe that peace is possible.

More posts about peace and music.

6. Hangin'

Feet in the hammock.

7. What We Need

This child, her presence in my life, our life together and the challenges we face, has given me gifts that cannot be measured. Compassion and patience. A challenging life that requires my active participation every single day. Appreciation of even the smallest steps. Grace. Boundless love. Knowledge that when I get to the very edge, to my limit, I can stretch just a little further. Friendships. Knowing that even when I stumble and fall-- when I yell, when I cry, when I whine-- I will eventually pick myself up and keep walking.


I am in tears. I needed to read this today. Every day. Living with, parenting a teen with autism has been a bit like living atop a live volcano and trying to keep it from erupting.

8. And to think that I saw it.....

My life is like this. Really. It is.

More A Day in the Life posts.

9. You can fart in front of your friends...

Friends love you, farts and all.

They'll laugh at you. They'll remember and poke fun at you for the next twenty years. You may hear for the rest of your life about the weekend we all discovered you were lactose-intolerant, or the time when.... But there's no need to feel awkward, to be embarrassed, to wish to fall through the floor. You can just apologize, or not, and move on because your friends already know you fart. It's not a secret.

10. Fishing with Grandpa.

Pictures and posts from our summer fishing trips.

This is how we create memories for our children. My children will remember Grandpa Ed hooking fish and hollering, "C'mon now! Come and get this one! Reel it in!" They'll remember learning to cast by themselves for the first time. They'll remember holding a slippery fish in their hands.

Life is good.

1 comment:

Brenda said...

I hadn't had a chance to read your blog in a few days, but Sue reminded me to check it out especially for the fart reference. I relive that lactose intolerant moment when someone offers me cheesecake . . . There's a restaurant down here called the Cheesecake Factory, I have another name for it . . . LOL!!!!! Hope the holiday season is a joyful and fresh smelling one!

Love, B