Blog #50, Church and Proclaiming the Word

Today marks a special occasion for me; I'm posting my 50th blog. I know it's not quite like celebrating a 50th Wedding Anniversary or 50th birthday , but when I first started this exercise  April 1, 2009  I wasn't sure how long I would stick with it. Now,  in writing  my 50th blog , I'm finding  a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment knowing I have persevered with this endeavor .

Earlier today I re-read my blogs about family and friends, and other people , places and things and found myself smiling at some of the stories - I like them just as a chef might enjoy her own cooking.  At the same time I recognize my writing technique - description, dialogue, developement needs to improve. That's okay though, I'm not discouraged, not yet anyway, I'll keep on keeping on - blogging and travelling this 2 lane highway, writing about what interests me; Practicing my craft, continuing to learn more about what it takes to be a good writer.

To celebrate this 50th blog I've been thinking about what to write.   Since it's Sunday and Gary and I will soon leave for Mass at St. Thomas the Apostle in Coeur d Alene, I've decided church  would be a good  subject.

St. Thomas is one of the oldest churches in the city - the oldest and most beautiful. The grey shingled steeple towers high  above neighborhood homes, reaching high to the sky, providing a perfect landmark for Catholics and other Christians in the area. After walking up numerous steps and going through the massive double doors to enter the church, one sees the huge crucifix hanging behind the gold colored  tabernacle and marble altar - reminding us Jesus died on the cross for our sins; He is the Way, the Truth and the Life. Folks  of all denominations are invited to view the exquistite beauty of the  large, over sized stain glass windows  depicting the life of Jesus, His mother, angels and saints .

 The hymns the  choir sing  add both joy and reverence to the Liturgical celebration.  The accolades help prepare the Sanctuary by   lighting the candles. Greeters stand at the door to welcome all who enter.  At today's Mass,   I'm  the scheduled Lector . After introductory prayers and  before the celebrant, Father Bill proclaims the Gospel, I will  read passages from the old testament  and  Epistles of St.Paul.

 It seems unlikely that I should serve as Lector since in my daily, ordinary speech I talk way too fast,  and often mumble jumble my words. But when standing at the Lectern proclaiming the Word of God, my words are clear and measured, precise and well spoken.  I share this not to  brag about myself, but to give  all glory and praise to our Lord and Savior, and am reminded  we can do all things  through Him , especially when according to His plan and purpose.

Only 15 minutes until Mass begins.  I  practice reading aloud from the first chapter of James one more time:

" Dearest brothers and sisters:

All good giving and every perfect gift is from above..................... "

The NordicTrack , Judy Garland and Me

The days I go downstairs to use the NordicTrack, the first thing I do is pick out an album from the stack of vinyls neatly lined up across the basement baseboard . I have many favorite's including "Bye Bye Birdie", " The Music Man", "Paint Your Wagon" and "Hello Dolly", but while exercising, the one I like best is the soundtrack from the 1974 Box Office hit, "That's Entertainment".

After carefully pulling the album from its cover, I place it on the record spindle of the 1960's stereo console I purchased at St. Vincent de Paul's thrift store several years ago. The turntable is a Garrard 3000 model and in great shape; The speakers provide excellent sound . Adding to my movie music reverie are pictures of some of the great MGM musical stars and movie posters I have plastered on the walls all around me.

About five minutes into my routine, I become lost in a trance like state, and am no longer just walking in a boring step after step pattern, but am dancing with Judy Garland, Fred Astaire and June Allyson . As the Scarecrow, Tin Man, Cowardly Lion and Dorothy skip hop up the yellow brick road, I'm skip hopping with them and singing along , "We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz'.

My pace picks up and slows down depending on the song I'm listening to. As Judy sings the snappy happy lyrics from "Waiting for the Robert E. Lee":

" Go take your best gal, real pal , go to the levy, I said to the levy, and join that shuffling throng. Hear that music and song "! , I'm hearing that music and song, shuffling right along, too.

Before I know it , my 30 minutes on the Nordic Track are nearly over, but not before the grand finale. At that moment, in the make believe corner of my mind, I'm on stage performing. I grab the black brimmed hat from a hook on the center pole of the Nordic Trak and place it on my head. Then just like the great Garland in her fabulously famous 'Get Happy' song and dance in 'Summer Stock' , I pull the hat slightly forward , and tilt it down over my right eye . Now it's me dancing and singing to one of the most memorable muscial numbers of all time:

"Forget your troubles , come on get happy

You better chase all your cares away

Shout Hallelujah, come get happy

Get ready for the judgement day".

Diana, Bill and Scrabble

Scrabble has always been one of my favorite games , maybe because I consider myself a pretty fair player. I look forward to the challenge, confident in my ability to play or block a high scoring word, and am usually the big winner against most of my opponents. That was before Diana and Bill Rivers. They have trounced me every game we've played this week. Clearly, they are very good players, putting my Scrabble skill to the test.

During the game Bill would change the tone and timber of his voice and say in his best high seas, Pirates of the Carribean syntax, "It's a wild and crazy thing, I tell you, this Scrabble scribble game". And indeed it is.

The turntable game board is carefully set on the table , one rack is placed before each player, the 100 letter tiles are put in the tile pouch and one of us gives it a good shake up and down, all around. The three of us look hopeful, expectant as we wait to draw our tile to see who goes first. It's Bill. Always Bill. If Diana and I draw an E and F, Bill draws and A. If Bill draws a T, Diana and I draw a Y or Z. That's not so bad, really. I could handle that . It was when we returned the letters to the pool and remixed ; that was the real start of my troubles. Each player is to draw seven new letters. Ideally, a combination of high point consonants and vowells is desirable, to my dismay I drew 3 U's , 3 O's , and an I. What kind of Scrabble letters are those ? What kind of points ? Not very good ones. With nothing or no where to play, I passed my first turn, re-drew but didn't fair much better. I picked 2 more O's, 2 more I's , one L, a V and N.

While Diana and Bill were off to a good start with their first and second plays; I was completely word stuck and just sat there staring at the board, then I'd look down at my tiles, then the board again. I couldn't seem to find one word to play or find one block to make. The sands in the minute glass were slipping away. I was getting nervous, but knew I had to act quickly. Deciding not to pass again , I finally added one of my I's , the V and N to Diana's E to make the word "Vein" for a mere 7 points. It wasn't much, but at least it was something.

As the game continued, and my play didn't get much better, both Diana and Bill were gracious and encouraging. Diana would sweetly say , " Oh, Kathy, don't feel badly. We all know how to play Scrabble, it's just in the luck the draw. Next game you'll do better".

Yeah, right.

I tried to recall strategy and tactics and work on rack management, remembering it is disadvantageous to keep duplicates of most letters, but I not only had duplicates, I had triplicates ! I knew my hope for victory would increase if I could just play some of those not so common Scrabble words ; Words like QI, QU, ZHO and WOX , but it never happened. Nor did I have much of an opportunity to play 'premium' squares, which mulitply the number of points awarded. Bill and Diana never gave me the chance.

By the time we finished our final game late tonight, it became clear to me the Rivers' had sent me up the river. But what a fun ride it was ! We enthusiastically agreed to another tournament next year - Same time, same place here on Dobbs' deck . I can hardly wait ! But in all fairness, I should warn Diana and Bill to beware , I plan to reclaim my Scrabble Queen crown.

Lost and Found

There are times in our life when we see the sun rise and set in one another; we trust and believe we'll always be together. Then something happens - an arument or misunderstanding , and in a sudden and swift act we choose to stay away from the person we care so much about. Hurt feelings and pride get in the way and we refuse to turn around, to reach out and embrace the one we love.

Weeks and months pass by, stretching into year after year ; Our lives move on in a daily routine of raising a family , work and new adventures with new friends. But there comes a moment when all the busyiness slows down, children are grown and a quiet stillness sets in. We begin to remember and long for the one who once was so close - who never judged or ridiculed, but always encouraged. The one we were so at ease and comfortable with; Like the one who helped heal my spirit when I was laid up month after month with a broken body, first in a hospital bed, then at home with a full body cast.

We can never go back or redo, but every once in awhile we get lucky, and the one we've been longing for is longing for us too, and we find each other again.

Something Familiar

In our younger days we were part of a tight knit group, best of friends who palled around together and enjoyed the adventure of high school life. While sometimes it seems 'only yesterday' we experienced those carefree and happy days , in reality, it was 44 years ago when we first met as Bell High freshman. Although time and distance interrupted the closeness Diana, Sandy, Susan and I once shared, it could not destroy it; Our bond of friendship has proven to be far reaching and long lasting, and today we remain dear friends.

This past weekend the four of us, along with our husbands gathered at Sandy and Ernie's home for a mini reunion. We had such fun ! Diana and Bill made the trek from California in their 35ft motor home, Ben and Susan arrived from Georgia, via Oregon where they stopped to visit Ben's cousin; Gary and I drove from our place in north Idaho.

Sandy and Ernie greeted each of us with a warm embrace and big smile. Friday night Ernie grilled Alaskan salmon and we had dinner on their deck. The setting was lovely as the reflection from the red orange sunset stretched across the Snake River providing a perfect backdrop for our evening meal and face to face conversation.

We laughed and giggled , and reminisced about long ago days and talked and talked about our lives today; Children, grandchildren, Health Care, hair color, gardening and food. Earlier that afternoon when the four of us gals were on our way back from browsing the Richland antique stores, the subject of Social Security came up. We discussed the benefits of filing early (at 62) as opposed to waiting until age 67. Then all of a sudden, like we got an attack of the tickles, we burst out laughing; It struck us as funny , unbelievable really, that we are now approaching an age to be concerned about Social Security. We asked each other , " How could it be possible"? We still feel so young at heart !

The truth is , no matter how old we get or how much time passes before we see each other again, there will always be a little part of us that remains the same, a remnant of who we once were ; Something familiar and recognizable to the other. A little something that reminds us, " I know why I like you. I'm glad we're friends".

Almost Tomorrow

Wash the windows
paint the door
make the bed
sweep the floor
do the laundry
iron the clothes
Talk with mother
on the phone;
Go to the bank
stop at the store
Prepare the dinner
clean the dishes
It's almost tomorrow
but first a hug
and
goodnight kisses

Lunch, Movie, and a Blog

Lunch and seeing a movie with a friend makes for a pleasant afternoon. That was my experience yesterday when Liz B. and I shared a portabello and spinach quesadilla at Azteca Restaurant - the quesadilla was yummy and it was fun hearing about Liz's recent trip to Ireland and Germany. Liz was born and raised in Toronto and her speech still has remnants of her Canadian dialect, adding to the charm of her storytelling. We then caught the 1 pm showing of 'Julie and Julia' starring the ever talented Meryl Streep and Amy Adams.

The newly released film based on Julia Childs memoir "My Life in France" and Julie Powell's blog about preparing every single recipe in Childs' classic cookbook "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" is entertaining and delightful; And very inspirational to aspiring writer's like Liz and me.

To see Julia Childs' determination in getting her book published and Julie Powell's dedication to writing her blog motivates and encourages me to continue with my writing. Oh my gosh, not that I'm comparing myself to them - No, no, no. First of all, I would never attempt to cook French cuisine every day of the year. After three days of slicing, dicing, poaching and frying I'd throw in the towel. And when it comes to boiling a lobster, forget it. I don't have it in me. But I do like to write and want to improve my craft; I can only hope my writing, like playing tennis or learning to play the piano, will get better with practice. A blog is helpful because it gives me someplace to go to everyday to write . The question becomes, "What to write"? What topic ? What theme ?

Until I can decide the answer to those questions I will continue writing about the small and not so small daily events in my life - the people and places that touch my heart and warm my spirit. I will write so someday when I re-read what I wrote it will help me recall and remember the happy and exhilarating , the glad or sad mood of that moment.

Driving to Clarkston

From my home in north Idaho to my mother's house is Clarkston , Washington is a two hour drive. It's a long stretch of the highway cutting through rolling wheat fields and cattle grazing land. Other than Moscow, a college city where the University of Idaho is , the few little towns along the way are 'drive by' towns with no place to stop and shop. Their main purpose seems to be putting the brakes on drivers , posting signs stating the speed limit has been reduced from 60 miles per hour to 35 miles per hour.

During summer days a stream of out of state motor homes, campers and cars pulling trailers share the road with us Idaho folk; Sometimes a pack of Harley riders wearing black leather vests with bandanna's tied around their head zoom pass the slow moving rigs. And it's not unusual to see a cyclist or two keeping pace to their own inner rhythm as they feverishly pedal up a hill.

What always grabs my attention is the many barns dotting the roadside. Each one so unique and different. Some are red, some grey, some blue. Some are very old and look like they could fall over any minute; Some brand new. I think about all the hard work they represent - a place where a cow is milked, hay is stacked, tools are repaired. I wonder what pleasures and happy memory the barn brings to its owner - perhaps the scene of a welcome home party or harvest dance.

Although the architecture of a barn isn't considered to be great and grand like a big city skyscraper - the kind Ayn Rand writes about in her acclaimed novel, "The Fountainhead", it does have its own special beauty and grandeur, bringing to mind the often overlooked and forgotten farmers of America . What my husband likes to call "Salt of the earth" people.

Home Grown

There's nothing better than eating that first plump red tomato picked right off the vine on a hot August afternoon. I know, because earlier this week that enjoyable edible experience was mine. All I can say is, "Yum"!

Tomatoes are usually easy to grow, even for a 'no green thumb' gardener like me. It's the most popular garden vegetable in America and a few plants provide adequate harvest for most families. Dressed in my farm girl overalls and wearing a big brimmed straw hat, I've taken special care in the last few months to fertilize, weed and water the sprawling plant. My good effort has paid off; This morning I counted 13 tomatoes !

Sliced, diced, salted and stewed; Made into a savory pasta sauce , cold soup, or mixed with fresh greens, the tasty fruit, once called, "The Love Apple" will add a delicious home grown taste to our summer meals.

Newly Hatched

This morning Gary and I left early to trek across our wooded property. The ground was dusty and dry because temperatures have been close to 100 every day for the past week. Too hot for north Idaho. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the sun was bright. As we made our way down the hill , we tried to follow the shade of the trees, and was cheered by the sound of birds as they sang their happy anthem.

The day before we had seen a mama turkey and her newly hatched babies nestled together in tall fescue. As Gary and I moved closer to their grassy home, the mama stood up, lifted her wings in a thunderous fashion and quickly flew away trying to distract us from her young ones. In that moment I was able to take a picture of the precious poults; Then, trying to be as quiet as we could, the two of us headed in another direction so as not to disturb the little turkey family any longer.

Today, as we continued our walk we marvelled at the beauty of God's creation all around us; Grateful for the gift of newborn life.

Hot Summer Days

Hot summer days remind me of Hula Hoops, the Good Humor (ice cream) man and playing Hide -n-Seek on South Hall Lane, the street my family lived on in 1959. Most homes, like our two bedroom, one bath duplex didn't have air conditioning . Screened windows were left open and electric fans were strategically placed in living rooms and bedrooms to circulate air . No matter, the indoors remained stiffingly hot.

To help cool down we neighborhood kids ran around bare foot, splashed through the sprinkler or took turns squirting each other with the hose. While still sopping wet , my best friend Linda and I would jump on our pink and white Schwinn bikes and ride as fast as we could around the block creating our own kind of air conditioning. We'd clip cards to the spokes of our back wheels believing it made us go even faster.

Sometimes we'd make a shade fort in my side yard out of old sheets and cardboard boxes. Our mom' s would pack us a lunch in an old pillow case or sack. Linda and me, and a trail of kids would heave the pillowcases over our shoulders and walk up one side of the street then down the other pretending we were on a foreign expedition , the shade fort our final destination. Adding to our rag tag brigade and bringing up the rear, was my little brother, Walt and our next door neighbor, Richard.

Richard had a desert tortoise that he and Walt would dress in some kind of outfit and push along in my baby doll buggy. Remembering that poor tortoise now, dressed up and in a doll buggy makes me laugh out loud thinking how silly it must have looked, but I smile too, remembering those happy, carefree hot summer days of childhood and the fun we had.