It's A New Day!

The Scarf

I spoke with our when-we-use-one, we-love-her, babysitter yesterday, to ask if she might be free for an upcoming event. She had not been over to play with our kids in a month or so, and as we made our arrangements, she said, "Oh, good! I left my scarf at your house the last time I was there and I've been missing it. I know right where it is..."

I knew right where she'd left it. But I also knew it wasn't there, anymore. For a while, Tess had been walking around with it, pretending she was the babysitter. Then the kids also used it as a leash for Nolan the Doggy (though Mama said that doggy's leash would go around his tummy, not his neck). The scarf had also played a featured role several other games, and I realized, as I thought about it, that I hadn't seen the scarf in a while.

"I...will make sure I find it for you before you come over," I promised Wonderful Sitter, with a sinking feeling.

"Great!" she said.

And I did hang up and look, immediately, for the scarf. It was no where to be found.

Two hours later we walked into my girl's Daisy Scout meeting room. Giggling girls were running and squealing, younger siblings were causing trouble, food for the food shelf was piled on one end of a long table, Daisy gear piled on the other end. I went to sit with a friend, and there, on the table next to her, was the scarf. The. Scarf. There was no mistaking it.

I picked it up and stared at my friend. She asked if the scarf was mine and I explained that it belonged to Wonderful Sitter, whom my friend also knows. There ensued a discussion about how Wonderful Sitter's scarf might possibly have gotten into my friend's daughter's Daisy Scout bag. No conclusion was reached. At the end of the meeting, I took the scarf home with me and placed it where Wonderful Sitter had left it, in our house, a month earlier.

Sometimes life is funny in such not funny ways.

Sometimes things work out in such truly funny ways.

And you just never know which it will be, when you wake up in the morning.

The End.

If Not

If not for the fact that our four year lease was expiring on our mini-van, we'd definitely not have been in the market for a new car right now.

If not for the fact that a smoker had owned the mini-van we purchased, previous to us, we would not have been able to afford what we did purchase. (Smoke smell discount!)

If not for the fact that in the end, I could not tolerate the smoke smell, we would not have returned to the dealership for a "ionization" and detailed cleaning of the mini-van.

If not for the detailed cleaning of the min-van, they would not have also run it through the car wash, as a courtesy.

If not for the courtesy car wash, the doors of the mini-van would not have frozen shut in the cold winter night.

If not for the doors freezing shut, one door would not have gotten stuck slightly open, when my husband tried to unstick the frozen doors.

If not for the door sticking slightly open, not so much to as notice, but enough that the mini-van itself thought the door was open and therefore the headlights never shut off, I would not have gotten stuck, out in the cold night, away from home, alone, with a dead battery and a mini-van that wouldn't start.

If not for getting stuck out in the cold night, alone and with a min-van that wouldn't start, my husband would not have had to rouse three sleeping children from their beds and come to get me.

If not for our late night out, our children would not have been crabby and slow this morning and would not have missed the bus.

If not for our children missing the bus, I would not have known that the car battery was dead again this morning, in our garage.

If not for the dead car in our garage, I would not have called the dealership early this morning, ranting like a crazy woman...

Isn't life funny?

Girlie Toes

Wordless Wednesday

What Say You?

Quick.

Name a famous person who is dead.

Leave your answer in the comments.

The eight year old asked us that question at dinner last night. The husband and I had the same answer, blurted out at the same time. Considering there are about 875, 392 famous dead people out there, we're fearful that our simultaneous same answer means what we have long feared: we are too much alike to be any good to anyone. *sigh*

So this is my test:

Quick.

Name a famous person who is dead.

Eggshells

The world feels as if it's made of eggshells, I said to her.

I know, I know, she sighed.

We sat in silence, for a minute.

Eggshells are really much stronger than we think they are, she said. They protect life for as long as that growing life needs to be protected. And when the little growing life is too big for the shell, it would be a tragedy if it couldn't get out.

We sat in silence for another minute.

There has been a lot of sitting in silence, lately, around here.

Here She Comes

Everything happens for a reason. It is often said, thrown out into difficult and painful circumstances, otherwise unexplainable. I suppose, perhaps, it might make it easier, sometimes, to trust that life is not random, that bad things really have a greater, larger, beautiful purpose. One we cannot begin to know.

I don't, personally, think that to be so.

I don't believe there is any greater, larger, more beautiful purpose for everything in life. I believe very sad things happen and that they just...happen. It's not right. It's not okay. And there is no reason.

I also believe in energy. In a universal life force. In the wind. In the mountains. In the trees. In gratitude. In breath. In Love.

And I believe these good things exist right along the sad things. They help us, sometimes, work through the sadness. Work through what is not right.

That is what I believe.

The world lost a beautiful wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, teacher and friend today. Peace be with you, Amy.

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, "There, she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her coming, and there are other voices ready to take up the glad shout,

"Here she comes!"

And that is dying.

- Henry van Dyke (1852– 1933) American author, educator, and clergyman

Winter Solstice

People look East, the time is near
Of the crowning of the year
Make your house fair as you are able
Trim the hearth and set the table
People look East and sing today
Light the guest is on the way

Farrows be glad, though earth is bare
One more seed is planted there
Give up your strength the seed to nourish
That in course the flower may flourish
People look East and sing today
Light the rose is on the way

Birds though you long have ceased to build
Guard the nest that must be filled
Even the hour when wings are frozen
All for fledgling time has chosen
People look East and sing today
Light the bird is on the way

Stars, keep watch, when night is dim
One more light the bowl shall brim
Shining beyond the frosty weather
Bright as the sun and moon together
People look East and sing today
Light the star is on the way

Angels announce with shouts of mirth

Light who brings new life to earth

Set every peak and valley humming

With the word the Light is coming

People look East and sing today

For the Light is on the way

- An adaptation of People Look East

There Is No Title

She is dying. These are her last days. As these cold winter hours, pulling one into the next, hurl us toward the darkest day, when, with a blink, they will push us to the other side, and light will take the throne once again, Amy is dying. Her husband is with her. Her mother. Her sister. Her children. Oh, her children. Her children are two and four. Two and four and Amy is dying.

We've done what we know to do. Bringing food, raising money, laughing, dancing, sending prayers for hope and healing and time, out into the world. Time, time, time. Always prayer for more time. There is just one prayer, now, to be said. Prayer for peace. That one plea encompassing everything that needs to be said, now. Freedom from pain. Understanding, somehow, for those little ones, ages two and four, who will be without their mommy. Comfort, somehow, for a husband, losing his best friend and soul mate. Peace, for Amy. Peace, peace, peace.

These darkest days are here and Amy is dying. It fits, somehow, though it's not right. Nothing about this is right. Her children are two and four.

Questions I Would Like Answered For Me Today

1. How can the sun be so bright and so cold at the same time?

2. Where is Global Warming when I need it?

3. What is the appeal of Coldplay?

4. Why is Facebook so addicting?

5. Why is some Christmas music so gorgeous, and some so incredibly bad?

6. Should I confess to my husband that I saw the notice from Amazon that his order has shipped...and that I saw what his order contains? (Note to husband: might not want to use my Amazon account when ordering my Christmas present.)

7. Will I ever finish the scarf I am crocheting as a present for a friend? Do I need to actually work on it, in order to finish it?

8. Does my 8.5 year old really still believe in Santa, or is he pretending, for my sake?

9. Is Ann Coulter for real, or is it all an act? If she is for real...how can any person be so smart and so ignorant?

10. Why don't I live here:

?