Weekend Wonderings

I've been thinking about all kinds of things lately.  I mentioned some of them on Verona's site earlier this week and said that I would blog about them, but for some reason the thoughts on that subject will not coalesce so I'm putting that one off rather than force it. 

Several of you asked about the age of my little chef wanna be.  Michael just had his ninth birthday.  The first batch of jam didn't turn out so well, but the batch we did last night is fabulous.  Michael's biscuits were good, but we cheated.  I showed him how to make them using bisquick mix instead of totally from scratch.  I figure, he's nine.  There's time to work up a bit.

It's looking damp and overcast outside, which changes the plans I had for today from "mow the yard" to "I don't know what I'm going to do now."  I got my house completely cleaned yesterday, so I'm free to pretty much do what I want, I hate that.  I have a half dozen projects that could use attention.  So many choices just freeze my brain, I can't pick. 

Ah, well.  If that's all I have to complain about, I have it pretty good.  Have a wonderful day everyone. 

Jamming on the Hill

My son, Michael constantly surprises me.  (I'm learning to freak out less and less as time goes by.)  One of the things that he really likes to do is cook.  Now I have this MOM thing, which I inherited from my Mom and she probably got from hers, that kids are not supposed to be cooking.  Oh, its okay if they make the occasional PB&J sandwich, but anything that involves use of the oven or stovetop is just strictly for the adults in the house. 

Michael is fascinated by all aspects of food and cooking.  He tells me he wants to be a chef when he's a "grown-up Daddy."  So he cooks.  For about the past 7 or 8 months, he's been the breakfast king.  Because I don't much like food in the morning, I was happy for him to have taken over this chore.  But he doesn't just pour cereal, oh, no.  He makes oatmeal, eggs, pancakes, and muffins.  I sip my tea and try hard not to feel guilty for letting him do "my" job. 

He worries about me and my eating habits which I find odd.  He follows me around and says things like, "Mom, it's not healthy for a woman to only have tea and toast.  You need to eat something with more nutritional value.  How about I make you an omelet?"  o_0  It's not like I'm underfed or anything, so I'm not sure why he feels he must remind me to eat. 

Today, he has informed me that it's time for his next lesson.  He wants to learn to make jam.  Well, we happen to have many many blackberry bushes here on the hill, and they are loaded right now.  So the kids and I are picking blackberries and making jam this afternoon.  Then I'll be giving him a biscuit lesson.   

Quiet Behind the Mask

I had a long and quiet day.  I woke this morning with a horrific sick headache that I couldn't shake.  So finally, after trying unsuccessfully for several hours to get things done, I took drastic measures.  I took the boys out to grab a cheeseburger for lunch, then we went to the park for the afternoon.  I found a happy spot in the shade beneath a huge oak tree and unfolded my chair.  Then I leaned back, closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of rustling leaves, distant traffic, the hum of an insect and the laughter of children while I waited for my ibuprofen to take effect.  It took about three hours. 

On the way home, we stopped in at the carwash and rinsed off the van.  I offered Tucker the wand if he wanted to try his luck, but he still remembers that the last time he squeezed that trigger the force of the power washer shot him back like he was a figure in a Looney Toons episode. 

This evening, I've dinked around in my pajamas.  So other than getting the van washed, I've done nothing all day long that could really be considered productive.  But it's been a good day.  I'm sorry that I woke with a headache.  I'm glad it drove me out of the house and forced me to take a slow and easy afternoon. 

I've added some new links to blogs that I consider important stops on the Tour of Quiltnmomi in a section I'm calling Behind Terri's Mask.  They worked for me, but my html skills leave MUCH to be desired, so please let me know if you have difficulty with any of them.  I've heard that some of the older links in the philosophy section aren't working.  I'll try to figure those out sometime soon. 

Peace be upon you . . .

Turn, turn, turn ...

To everything there is a season.  Yesterday, I wrote about how much I dislike change.  And yet, today, my site has a new look.  Of course, it's been almost a year since the last time my site got a make-over so I don't think I've rushed into anything.  Many, many thank you's to TinaCantrell for designing this page.  I think she did a beautiful job. 

No one can wear a mask for long.  Seneca

I have for some time enjoyed the benefit of several seanmeister codes that didn't appear in the skin version of my site look.  You may notice that (at least for now) my SIR list is public.  I was asked after I blogged about how very impressed I am with the quality of your work to please share who I was talking about.  I am convinced that the best of the best of Xanga can be found through my SIR.  You guys are simply wonderful wordsmiths.  Thanks to seanmeister, my list is alphabetized.  Isn't that fabulous?  It does my little obsessive compusive heart all kinds of good to see that kind of order around here. 

And one more quote related to mask wearing just because I find it to be funny ...

Write Me A Blog!

"Come on, write a blog about me!  You can do it.  Write about the good side of me, the side that makes people like me.  Tell everyone to visit my site.  Say how much you love me."

I laughed.  If you knew her in real life, you'd laugh, too.  My sister is the kind of person who turns even the most serious conversation into an occasion for laughter.  She isn't mocking, irreverent or flip.  She sees that there is a sense of fun about everything, and she shares that sense with the people around her.  Since she asked me to write her a blog, I've been thinking about her and about her influence in my life. 

Some people have to go out of their way to make an impression, but not her.  Even though she lives five states away, she makes her presence known.  For example, this morning when I dressed myself, I pulled on a garment that is guaranteed to leave "no panty lines."  Not a garment that I would have considered appropriate for a 40 year old, or have expected to receive for my 40th birthday, but you see my sister had a different idea.  I believe the way she put it was, "If someone doesn't do something drastic, you're going to start thinking of yourself as old, less fun, and serious!  SO you HAVE to wear this."  When she held up her hand, I went into shock.  Underwear consisting of little lace triangles - and strings - not my usual choice.

I'll admit, for the first week, I had a constant urge to twist and squirm and just get that string OUT of my butt.  After I've gotten used to the new underwear, I've grown to like it.  I like the way it looks on me, I like the way the lace feels, I like knowing that I have no pantylines, and I like feeling younger and sexier at 40 than I've felt in years.  That's the kind of gift my sister gives. 

Anyone can send a card, only she can send an attitude. 

You go, Girl! 

You can visit my sister here.

*************

In other news, I have a new keyboard.  It's fancy.  It's a spilt keypad that's raised in the center.  It has buttons, bells and whistles that I never imagined I'd want on a keyboard, but I'm learning to appreciate each one of them.  On the other hand, my typing speed has slowed to a crawl!  I'm not a big fan of change.  In fact, it would be more accurate to say that I resist any and all change with ever fiber of my being. 

As a corollary to that, I don't enjoy surprises.  If you want to give me a pleasant surprise, you have to say to me, "Terri, I'm planning to surprise you on Tuesday.  I'll be coming over after work and taking you out to dinner at ______ restaurant.  We'll probably be having the Caesar Salad."  I will BE surprised.  I'll be surprised by the announcement, and because I'll have two days to work the actual event into my thinking, I'll enjoy it.  If you want to give my system a shock, call me on your way over on Tuesday and say, "Hey, I've got an idea, how about I take you out to dinner?"  That would just about send me over the edge of nervous flittering as I have to adjust my ideas for how I'm going to spend those hours. 

I used to see this as a serious flaw in my character.  One for which I should apologize and feel shame.  I've decided that I'm done apologizing.  I learned long ago that surprises are usually not pleasant.  Through one experience and another, I've come to have an intense distrust of anything that refuses to submit to the admittedly haphazard routine of my life.  Oh, there are deep psychological dishes here that could feed a family of therapists for years if they wanted to take on the task of normalizing me.  But I'm not looking to be leveled out.  I'm okay with who I am.  Even if it does mean that I don't enjoy surprises. 

*************

In writing news, I've been back at work on the book I hope to eventually publish.  Last night I had a serendipitous dream - I dreamed the next chapter.  Whooo Hooooo!  This doesn't happen often.  My dreams aren't usually all that translatable to the page.  But this time, I think it will actually work.  So I'm off to crank out those words ... with my new keyboard ... wearing my new underwear.  Life is just full of change, isn't it. 

Getting Your Rockets Boosted

Some people just boost your rockets.  You know the ones I mean.  They aren't the "Oh, my God, I'm in Love" people, they are more the, "Oh, I'm glad you showed up, lets get this show on the road" people.  I have friends who do this for me.  Whenever I spend time with them, without their apparently doing anything unusual, I come away energized to create and to expand my ideas.  Whenever we get together, the next days and weeks are full of high output and clear visions.  The last time it happened, I thought it must have been something in the water.  Seriously, it was almost like being on some drug-induced high.  I went from laughing over foccacia to writing 1,500 - 2,000 words at a session twice a day for two weeks.  (Um, that's a lot for me.)

 I noticed the effect of these Booster Rockets in my life.  That made me stop and look back to see if I could identify other Booster Rockets through the years.  When I'm looking for them, I can see them.  It's the nature of a Booster Rocket to be unnoticed at the time of the boost.  We notice the sensation of acceleration, the dizzying new height, and the burning fire of creativity.  We don't recognize that we achieved this status as a result of that Booster's influence. 

Julia Cameron says that many times if someone is a Booster Rocket for you, the effect is reciprocal.  At the same time they are helping you into orbit, you're pushing them along as well.  We can miss the significance because it doesn't feel like hauling each other up by the bootstraps.  It's more like, "Here, you have your hands full, let me give that strap a quick - YANK!"  And you both go your merry way. 

How open are you to the influence of a Booster Rocket?  Try thinking through the following questions:

1.  Are you open enough to accept help?  Take pen in hand and note five offers of help in the past month.  Did you accept or decline them?

2.  Which Booster Rockets have you combined with successfully? How did you combine?  Letters, the Internet, phone calls, coffee dates?  List any and all people and methods that work.

3.  Who among your friends boosts your energy and their own?  Such relationships are mutually nutritious.  Pick up the phone and plan contact.

4.  Is your significant other a Booster Rocket?  This question may be painful.  Spend a gentle fifteen minutes writing on it.

Questions from Julia Cameron's Supplies, A Troubleshooting Guide for Creative Difficulties.

Update:

The colorful comments script is courtesy of our resident wizard of java-scripting, seanmeister.  He posted the code in last Sunday's blog.  Isn't it fantastic for making the comments easy to read?   

The Taste of Summer

Every season has a specific taste I associate with it.  In fact if I really stop and think about it, I have an associated taste for almost every month.  April is deviled eggs and lamb chops, May tastes like strawberry shortcake, and June is Caesar Salad.  It's now July.  July has a sharp melon flavor that I particularly enjoy.   Like fresh cucumber and tomato sandwiches on toasted fresh whole wheat bread with baby swiss cheese ...  Yum!

We have a small garden.  Right now its at the height of its productivity and I'm delighting my taste buds with the juice of fresh green food.  Yes, even the tomatoes - I prefer green.  I forgot to visit the garden one day earlier this week.  I don't know what was going on that kept my mind from it, but I've learned my lesson.  Zucchini is evil.  If it isn't picked every single day - it explodes into a vegetable the size of which is - well, it's scary. 

If you aren't laughing at that sight, then you just haven't comprehended that these zucchini are roughly the size of small watermelons.  So what do I DO with this monster zucchini?  I have two recipes that I really like.  First is a garden vegetable frittata

2 c diced zucchini
1 c diced green tomato
1 diced medium onion
4-6 ounces of diced mushrooms
8 eggs
1 c water
1 c bread crumbs
8 ounces grated pepper jack cheese
Pat of Butter

 Saute the onion and mushrooms in pat of butter until onion is caramelized.  Spray 9x12 baking dish with nonstick spray.  Combine onion, mushroom mix with zucchini and tomato in baking dish.  In a mixing bowl, beat eggs.  Add water, bread crumbs and grated cheese to eggs, stir.  Pour egg mixture over veggies.  Bake at 350 degrees until set in center.  (For added zip, you can put in banana pepper rings.)

My second favorite recipe is good old-fashioned zucchini bread, of course mine isn't the typical recipe.  This bakes up light and lemony:

3 c all purpose flour (NOT self-rising)
1 1/2 c sugar
4 1/2 t baking powder
1 t salt
4 oz. chopped walnuts
4 eggs
2/3 c corn oil
2 c shredded zucchini
3 t grated lemon peel (I like this bread extra-lemony, so I zest two whole lemons and add it all.)

Preheat oven to 350 and grease two loaf pans.

In large bowl, mix flour ,sugar, baking powder, sale and chopped walnuts.  In medium-sized bowl, beat eggs slightly; stir in oil zucchini and lemon peel; stir into flour mixture just unti lflour is moistened.  Spoon batter evenly into pans.

Bake one hour or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.  Cool bread in pans on wire racks, 10 minutes; remove fro mpans and finish cooling on wire racks.  

If this is more than your family would care to eat all at once, this bread freezes well, so when it's completely cool wrap one loaf in aluminum foil and pop it into the freezer. 

Both these recipes can be made using less that ONE of those giant zucchini - ask me how I know this!

I found this quiz -

No, don't groan.  It was over on zeldapinwheel's site.  And I thought it  would be fun.  How do you use magic?  It's an intriguing thought for me.  I don't think of myself as believing in "magic" per se.  But I do believe in spiritual power.  If you take the quiz, you'll see that the distinction never comes up in the questions, but my result:

Take the "How Do You Use Magic?" test! Written by Brimo

I don't generally talk much about spiritual power.  In the first place I believe it is misunderstood to such a degree that even attempting to discuss it can bring more harm than good.  And also, I'm aware that among people who have experienced spiritual power, no words are necessary, but for those who have not experienced it, I might as well tatoo - FLAKE - on my forehead as bring it up. 

I'm taken aback by the last line of that description - Your God has given you many things ...  The quiz also never asked me whether I believe in God.  Or whether I felt that God had given me anything.  As a matter of fact, I do believe in God and that I have received abundantly in that relationship. 

A few people have asked me questions about what I believe.  Many others have made assumptions about my beliefs.  That's okay, either way.  My beliefs are just that - mine.  I will talk about them, I'm not ashamed of them.  But at the same time, I'm not going to ask anyone else to adopt my view.  I have the opinion that God is HUGE.  So HUGE that there is a God-to-person relationship possible for every person who's ever lived.  AND that the God of your experience will not be the same as the God of my experience. 

Mostly, I don't think it's very helpful to call myself a Christian because that label means very specific things to different people.  It is true that I relate to God through my understanding of the person of Jesus of Nazareth.  There is something about his life, about his teaching and about his ministry that pulls me and enlightens me.  There is a LOT about the Christian doctrine of christology that I neither understand nor can relate to. 

I have read the Bible, and the writings of the Apostolic Fathers, and the Nag Hamadi Library, and the translated documents from the Dead Sea Scrolls, and the gnostic gospels (some of which are included in the Nag Hamadi documents and some of which come from other sources and archealogical finds.)  I have decided based on my reading and research that there is much that we know and much mor ethat we don't know about the life of Jesus and it's significance for those of us living in the world today.  I have also read the writings of Buddhism, and the Q'ran, and other documents of other religions.   One thing I find that I cannot accept is the idea that all religious ideas apart from Christianity must be wrong.  There is grace in Buddhism, and there is holiness in Islam.  Likewise, there is much in the traditional orthodoxy of Christianity that I cannot believe is right.  (And we won't get me started on orthodox Christian views of women.) 

Sue Monk Kidd's book The Dance of the Dissident Daughter tells the story of one woman who confronted many of the same issues that have caused me pain over the years.  She walks a different path than the one I've been led down, but I understand her journey. 

One of my dreams is to attend a Seminary.  I have a PhD dissertation on Soteriology burning inside me.  (Similar to the one written by Molly Marshall Green except that I don't think she broke through to the new ground the subject demands.)  Or, maybe not.  Maybe it isn't necessary to have that degree in order to walk in light.  I  know that at the end of my life, I'd rather leave this place knowing that I had lived according to the grace I've received than that I'd been awarded a degree.  I like the image of myself as a Priestess.   

Discovering a Sense of Proportion

All of us are creative.  There have been quite a few blogs about Xanga the Community.  I'd like to add that Xanga is a Creative Community.  When I take a stroll through my SIR I find poetry, photography, design, stories, and reports of novels in progress.  I've even given some of those reports from time to time in my space.  What else I notice about the creative impulses of Xangans are how often we minimize them, describe them as less than what they are.  So pull up your chair, I have a pep talk for all of us creative types who seem to be teetering on the verge of adopting our identity as artists. 

Julia Cameron says: All of us need accurate Believing Mirrors.   Believing Mirrors reflect us as large and competent creatively.  They mirror possibility not improbability.  The ignore "the odds against" us.  These mirrors are held by people large enough and expansive enough spiritually not to be threatened by the size and grandeur of another artist shaking out his wings. 

Stephen King says that every book he's ever written was for an audience of one.  He doesn't show anything to his agent or his editor until after he has shown it to her.  Then if she liked it, he feels he was successful in his efforts even if the agent, the editor, the critic, the public all hate it.  That's the power of a Believing Mirror. 

quiltnmomi says that even more important than an accurate Believing Mirror, we need an accurate internal vision of ourselves as artists.  We tend to set ourselves up with impossibly high goals and then all the work we produce reinforces our negative self-talk that "I can't do this."  So what if your first novel doesn't win the American Book Award?  So what if your poem isn't read at the next Presidential Inaguration?  So what if your song isn't recorded by Celine Dion?  You still wrote a book, a poem, a song.  You are a novelist, a poet, a composer.  So what if your effort isn't published at all, or is rejected by 30 magazines in a row, or comes back to you with a form letter that makes it questionable whether anyone listened to it.  You are still a novelist, a poet, a composer ,a photographer, a designer.  You are an artist. 

When someone asks you who you are, or what you do, how do you answer?  Do you say, "I'm a writer/photographer/poet/composer?"  Or do you offer some lesser definition of who and what you are?  Do you say, "oh, I'm a housewife, a salesman, a computer technician?"  You may play those roles, but I can tell you - I read your sites and I've seen what you do.  You are NOT housewives, salespeople and technicians.  You are ARTISTS.  

Copy this quiz and fill it in as quickly as you can:

1.  If I were admit it to myself, I have a secret gift for ______________________________________________.
2.  If I weren't afraid, I'd tell myself to try ______________________________________________ .  
3.  As my own best friend I would really cheer if I saw myself ________________________________________ .
4.  The compliment I received that seemed too good to be true was ___________________________________________ .
5.  If I acted on that compliment, I would let myself ________________________________________________.
6.  The best person to cheer me on in my artistic identity is ___________________ .
7.  The person I should carefully not tell my dream is ____________________.
8.  The tiniest realistic step I could take in my dreamed direction is ____________________ .
9.  The biggest step I could take in my dreamed direction is ____________________ .
10. The step I'm able to take that seems about right is ___________________________.

You, yes, YOU are an artist.  That artist portion of yourself is BIG!  So own it, nurture it, DO it.  And stop telling yourself that you are just a ________. 

The Price of Conviction

The church I attend is huge.  Even in the process of constructing a new facility which was originally planned to accommodate a membership of 5,000, the planning committee has had to ask the architect to make adjustments because halfway through the building project, we've already outgrown it.  We have two services and accompanying classes and small groups on Sunday morning.  We also have services and classes on Saturday night for as many people as will agree to attend at that time to relieve the pressure of the Sunday morning congestion.

I carefully said, "The church I attend," because I'm not a member.  It's been an odd thing attending, worshipping, participating in the various programs and yet choosing not to officially "join" with the people who make up the body of this church.  At almost any point earlier in my life, I wouldn't have made this decision to remain apart.  I'd have swallowed my convictions and allied myself formally.  But as I've gotten older, my convictions have become more and more important and even the appearance of denying them has become less and less acceptable.

The church I attend has certain policies regarding women.  They  clearly prohibit women from teaching adults in all but a few narrow contexts.  Even when women are permitted to teach, they are expected to work "under" the spiritual direction of a man.  I have no problem with asking teachers to be accountable for the material and content of their lessons.   I think that its fair and reasonable that anyone who teaches in a church program should be expected to teach material that supports the doctrinal beliefs of that church.  But this policy isn't about teachers in general, it's about women.  No matter what a woman would say, the fact that a woman spoke it would in itself violate the doctrinal position of this church.  I have a problem with that.

Now it has been suggested that I'm stubborn and that  I'm overgeneralizing in application, you may agree with this assessment.   I don't see "the church" as the church building.  The church is the people.  So if I'm to support this policy, to me, anytime any member of this church felt any impulse to ask me my opinion on a Bible passage, or a doctrine, or theological issue - any answer I gave would violate the policy forbidding women to teach.  I know that many women in this church don't see it this way.  They regularly draw the line between their behavior "in church" and their behavior out in the rest of their lives.  But my convictions are such that I can't do that.  I don't distinguish between my church life and the rest of my life.  If they can't be one and the same then something is wrong in my mind. 

I know myself well enough to know that sooner or later I will participate in a discussion in which I cross that line.   Someone will ask, I'll respond and the next thing you know, I'll be teaching.  It's happened to me far too often for me to expect that this time around it would be different.  Does that sound arrogant or prideful?  I'm not intending to sound as if I have all the answers.  What I have is a life that tends to encourage people to ask questions.  In the exploration of those questions, teaching occurs.

So even knowing my view and that I won't join them, I've been asked to volunteer in the children's department as the regular workers take a summer break.  It took some considerable wrangling on the part of the children's director to secure permission for me to do this.  But, she is persistent and tonight I'll have my first session of Bible Study with three year olds.  I like little kids.  I'm looking forward to this opportunity.  I'm expecting that the closest we'll get to any touching on doctrine or theology will be "God doesn't want us to take our neighbors crayons, hit our neighbor's face, or go potty without actually leaving our seat." 

I'll be sure and let you know how it goes.