10 Years Ago

Sacred Petal by Prachuap Chaikham-udom seen on Novica -05

Ten years ago. During the worry over Y2K; I was at my mother's funeral in New Hampshire.  Then spending the evening with Baha'is bringing the New Year..the new century.  Has it really been 10 years since I have talked to my mother..seen her face..??  It has been an amazing decade in my life begun with my mother's passing into the next world..Heaven, the Abha' Kingdom. A hard start, but a fruitful time.  I miss her...  I'm going to post what I said on Facebook on December 28th. (the date of her passing):

"Honoring my mother in my thoughts today. Ten years ago today she crossed over. She was the sweetest, most loving, and most determined soul. She had a wonderful smile that was truly radiant. And she was a very devoted mother to me; and wife to my father. She put others before herself. She was a dedicated Baha'i. And a strong woman. She had patience and transcendence. I wish her joy and peace in the next world....in Heaven, the Abha' Kingdom..


Wishing you----a joyful next year and decade...  Welcome 2010.

Albert Ellis's list of Irrational Beliefs

Every once in awhile I think about my career...how I went to school for my masters in counseling...how I worked for awhile as a Play Therapist and a Program Therapist.  It has been years since I've worked in a professional setting.  But I think about it.  and I think about going back to work when both my children are in school all day.  I had an incredible professor at Oregon State University: Mary Lou.  That's it: no last name, just Mary Lou.  She was inspiring.  I had her for Theories.  There are many lessons I remember and one of them, I just spent quite a bit of time trying to find and it is a list of irrational beliefs we may have in life..  And here is the list: from this site: http://personalmba.com/applied-psychology-ellis-irrational-beliefs/

I am not a cog-behavioral therapist..but I wanted to share this list because I remember Mary Lou talking about "shoulds"...We often think in terms of "shoulds" I should feel this way..I should have done this..I should be at this point in life..I should be better..  This list is exaggerated on purpose....  A good exercise is to look at the "shoulds" in your own life and "question your own thinking about them" whether they are healthy for you are making you "stuck"...stuck in shame..or whatnot. Are your "shoulds" helpful to you, or are they miring you so you can't grow...making you stuck..


Albert Ellis-Irrational Beliefs

The Julie/Julia Project

The Julie/Julia Project

I recently saw the movie Julie Julia

http://www.amazon.com/Julie-Julia-Meryl-Streep/dp/B002RSDW80/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=dvd&qid=1262288287&sr=8-1
And really enjoyed it!!  (quite a contrast to my Battlestar Galactica obsession awhile ago) It is a joyful, sweet, humorous movie.  But it was also inspiring to me for a couple of reasons:

Themes:  True stories of : Two women  30-40 something stage of life discovering a passion for cooking and writing.  Julie discovers blogging and that turns into a book and then a movie..  wow..  Julia learns to cook in her forties in France---not just cooking but "professional cooking"---artistically, masterfully..and she teaches writes a cookbook..and becomes one of the most influencial teachers of cooking in America.    Not only that, she seems to be a "joyful" person" unapologetic in how strong of a woman she was..but also very genuine and did I say..."joyful"..at least that is how she is portrayed..  I respect that way of being.. 

And Julie discovered blogging years ago!  2002 or 2003.  Her original blog is still online.  Julies' Blog Her challenge to blog everyday about doing every recipe in Julia Child's cookbook in 365 days...it turned into a transformative process for her and was quite a creative idea.

(I'm not quite saying this the way I'd like to..It's not a very good writing day for me)  I want to write well today...but it isn't coming out the way I'd like it to..  I'm not quite portraying my description of this "idea" as well as I'd like.  My ideas aren't transferring into words the way I'd like them to..  I "feel" very inspired by this "idea"...hoping that one day what I do now will be meaningful...in a form that is helpful to others.  It will be purposeful..  Julie and Julia did something that became meaningful to other people.  That is what I mean..and that is my hope with my own writing..that somehow this blog will transform into something..not sure what..as it evolves. 

Magical, Mystical Bees: Friendly Haven Rise Farm: Jacqueline

One thing, I would love to do is add a hive or two to our yard to support our honeybees (and to have some of our own raw honey. YUM!) When I saw a documentry on PBS http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/silence-of-the-bees/video-full-episode/251/ about CCD, I realized that our food supply could be in trouble if our honeybees disappear. A huge part of our food is dependent upon pollunation by bees..fruit, vegetables...are all bee dependent. Bees are not just important for honey!

1 in 3 U.S. Bees Died This Winter (May 2009)
That's good news, in terms of colony collapse disorder -- but still very bad news for beekeepers. Also see our DIY backyard beekeeping guide.Read more: http://www.thedailygreen.com/environmental-news/blogs/bees/colony-collapse-disorder-88052606#ixzz0XQC7t9Fw


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colony_collapse_disorder
Colony collapse disorder (CCD) or sometimes honey bee depopulation syndrome (HBDS)[1] is a phenomenon in which worker bees from a beehive or European honey bee colony abruptly disappear. While such disappearances have occurred throughout the history of apiculture, the term colony collapse disorder was first applied to a drastic rise in the number of disappearances of Western honey bee colonies in North America in late 2006.[2] Colony collapse is economically significant because many agricultural crops worldwide are pollinated by bees.

Why We Need Bees and More People Becoming Organic Beekeepers AlterNet

A couple of years ago, I attended a Beekeeping class at this farm:

http://www.friendlyhaven.com/classes.html

Jacqueline was an amazing teacher. I still feel refreshed when I think about the hours I spent on her farm that day and what I learned. She is a bee rescuer. She will get a call that a swarm has been located in someone's barn, or inside of someone's wall, and she will capture and relocate the swarm and create a new hive/home for it.

I believe she takes a bio-dynamic approach to farming. (something I would like to learn more about!)

From Wikpedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biodynamic_agriculture

Biodynamic agriculture is a method of organic farming that treats farms as unified and individual organisms,[1] emphasizing balancing the holistic development and interrelationship of the soil, plants, animals as a self-nourishing system without external inputs[2] insofar as this is possible given the loss of nutrients due to the export of food.[3]
Regarded by some as the first modern ecological farming system,[4] biodynamic farming has much in common with other organic approaches, such as emphasizing the use of manures and composts and excluding of the use of artificial chemicals on soil and plants. Methods unique to the biodynamic approach include the use of fermented herbal and mineral preparations as compost additives and field sprays and the use of an astronomical sowing and planting calendar.[5] Biodynamics originated out of the work of Rudolf Steiner, the founder of the spiritual philosophy anthroposophy.

Jacqueline takes an approach that is very different from commercial beekeeping. Did you know that most commercial hives do not contain a true queen, but a "weaker" substitute queen that is only supposed to function for about a year until a true queen is born, but subs are continued to be used, to keep the hive from swarming away? These subs, will never be strong like the true queens..never meant to be the queen for long, etc.... Did you know that queens are marked with a dot-from a permanent marker so that commercial beekeepers can keep track of the queen. I could go on and on about why bees could be disappearing..pesticides, monoculture crops, commercial-large scale practices, etc..
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/silence-of-the-bees/ccd-update-from-dennis-van-engelsdorp-may-2009/4991/"Every colony has a queen, and what we’re finding is that those queens are dying. And if a colony is unable to successfully replace them, or if the beekeeper is unable to identify that there’s a problem with the queen and buy a new queen to replace her, the colony dies.
Also, we’re finding that beekeepers tend to have better success keeping their colonies alive by keeping colonies as healthy as possible and by aggressively treating disease and keeping colonies well nourished."
It is a very interesting topic to me.. One I hope to learn more about at some point. To me, bees seem magical/mystical. I highly recommend reading The Secret Life of Bees http://www.amazon.com/Secret-Life-Bees-Monk-Kidd/dp/0143114557/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1258736331&sr=8-1
There are so many aspects to bees, that are truly amazing. How they set up their community, their hive, their social order, even how their little bodies work, how they pollunate...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honey_bee
Amazing how important one of God's small little creatures is! How easy it is to forget...

Growing Potatoes

This past summer, we grew potatoes in a garbage can! Above is a pic of the potatoes we grew! Growing potatoes is a really easy and fun food to grow! You do have to be careful of the soil..you don't want to reuse the soil with other foods that are in the potato family for 3 years.

Essentially, I drilled holes in the bottom of garbage cans for drainage..in the bottom and about 12 inches above. I lined the bottom with pea gravel, then put some potting mix and compost and planted the seed potatoes..about 5 per can. I put tin foil on the insides of the cans to reflect light into the bottom of the can. As the potato stems grew, I coverd them with soil and contined to cover them all summer long until it was as high as the top of the can. You can harvest them after they flower and when the stems and leaves die. You harvest them by tipping over the cans. I've only done it once and most of the potatoes were on the bottom. I'm not sure if I had to keep covering them all summer if most of the potatoes were on the bottom? I need to learn more about this for next year..

I used the following links as a guide for how to do it!

In a garbage can:

http://www.gardeningblog.net/2008/06/23/grow-potatoes-in-a-trash-can/

http://www.ehow.com/how_2222722_grow-potatoes-garbage-can.html?ref=fuel&utm_source=yahoo&utm_medium=ssp&utm_campaign=yssp_art

http://hgfn.wordpress.com/2009/03/25/growing-potatoes-in-a-garbage-bag/

http://www.bumblebeeblog.com/2007/08/21/garbage-can-potatoes-082107/

In a wooden-built structure: This way looks really neat!!

http://tipnut.com/grow-potatoes/

Pumpkin Season

Making Pumpkin From Scratch including cooking the pumpkin, etc.. : : http://pickyourown.org/pumpkinpie.php This is a great site, chock full of information!

Pumpkin Spice Latte

http://www.foodbuzz.com/blogs/us/california/san_francisco/1477560-pumpkin-spiced-latte

Pumpkin Spiced LatteServes 2
Ingredients
2 cups whole milk (or whatever)5 Tbsp canned pumpkin5 Tbsp granulated sugar1/2 tsp cinnamon1/8 tsp freshly ground nutmeg1/8 tsp ground cloves1 Tbsp vanilla extract1 shot of strong coffee1/2 cup heavy whipping cream (optional)
Method
1. Start boiling water to make the French press coffee. Meanwhile, gently heat the milk in a small saucepan. Be careful not to scald the milk or bring it to a boil. Whisk in pumpkin and mix thoroughly. Stir in sugar and blend until dissolved. Add spices and blend. Add vanilla and stir. Keep milk on the heat as long as it is not starting to boil or scald.
2. Make the coffee in the French press, stronger than usual.
3. Use a hand-held egg beater (or an immersion blender if you have one) to froth up the warm milk mixture.

4. Use a whisk, or an egg beater, or a hand held mixer to whip the cream.
4. Pour about 1/4 cup of coffee into a tall mug. Pour the milk mixture on top until the cup is nearly full. Add a large dollop of whipped cream and grate a little bit of nutmeg on top. This recipe makes two tall cups.

Comfort in Times of Worry

O God! Refresh and gladden my spirit. Purify my heart. Illumine my powers. I lay all my affairs in Thy hand. Thou art my Guide and my Refuge. I will no longer be sorrowful and grieved; I will be a happy and joyful being. O God! I will no longer be full of anxiety, nor will I let trouble harass me. I will not dwell on the unpleasant things of life.
O God! Thou art more friend to me than I am to myself. I dedicate myself to Thee, O Lord.

- 'Abdu'l-Bahá

(Compilations, Baha'i Prayers, p. 150)

Crock Pot Recipes: Tomato Sauce, Yogurt, Refried Beans, Roast

I love my crockpot. I use it at least 2-3x a week. Today, for the second time I am making tomato sauce with all the tomatoes from our garden. I thought I'd share a couple of recipes.

Tomato Sauce:

Need: crockpot. Food mill: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Food_mill


all times are approximate. I've only done this once before today, so do what works for you.

• Cut up tomatoes into quarters (approximately) and add to crockpot



• Add a little oil to the mix and set on high for 4 hours. Mix every couple of hours.



• Then put on medium or lo for about 6 more hours.



• Run the tomatoes through the fine setting through a food mill.



• Then put remaining sauce back in the crock and continue on low until the sauce reaches the consistency you desire.



• Put sauce in jars for immediate use, for freezing or for canning. (canning requires some more steps)

Yogurt-whole milk

• Add 1/2 gallon whole milk to crockpot
• Set on low for 2 hours 45 minutes
• Turn off for 3 hours with cover on.
• Mix milk and Remove 1 cup of milk into bowl
• Add 1/2 cup of yogurt starter(or yogurt with live and active cultures) to the 1 cup of milk.
• Mix together and add back to the crockpot
• Re-cover crockpot and wrap it in 2 bath towels. Leave for 8-12 hours depending on how strong you want it to taste.
• Mix and put into jars and refrigerate for at least 8 hours.

Refried Beans

• soak dry beans overnight with added 1 tb whey or lemon juice
• rinse and add to crock with some water
• Also add some olive oil, cumin and garlic
• Cook on high or whatever setting you wish until beans are soft.
• drain most of water off, but leave some in so they aren't too dry.
• Mash and add butter or oil or whatever you wish for texture and flavor.

Roast Beef

• Add roast to water in the crock
• Add: garlic, worchester sauce, onions, stewed tomatoes, rosemary, thyme, salt, pepper (or whatever seasoning you like)
• Cook on high for 2-4 hours depending on the size. Or if you have time cook it at a lower setting for optimal texture/flavor. I have not experimented with lower setting because I am usually in a hurry..

Message in a Bottle: Metablogging

I hope it is okay to use someone else clip art from the web? The artist's website is included in the image so I think I am giving him/her the credit for the picture..

The idea of blogging is fairly new to me. The idea of journaling is not.

Last night I was thinking about the concept of it and how incredible it is.

Whenever I journal, I imagine I am talking to someone...perhaps to God, or in hope that someday someone might read it...although, perhaps many of those pages I don't really want just anyone reading...

Blogging on the internet is more public. Perhaps, I am still writing to "God" in case no one is really reading this.. But, I think, perhaps, many that do blog do have a reader or two or two hundred..

In any case, as I write, it is almost like putting a message in a bottle and releasing it to the sea-to the world. Perhaps someone will find it; perhaps no one will.. I may never know the outcome of it.

There are proably thousands who blog? millions? I don't know.. All these bottles floating out in the ocean looking for a reader. Perhaps some of them are an "SOS to the World"..Many people reaching out..perhaps in loneliness, or simply wanting to connect in a meaningful way. Perhaps someone wants their 5 minutes of fame from it. There are probably countless motivations for it. But my imagination of it is that there are many souls reaching out with blogging- wanting to say something they can't easily say to other people in everyday association.

I think of the movie Powder.. We don't realize how connected we are. We see ourselves as separate, but we are truly connected and we don't "see" it. We are more the "same" than we think we are. Our feelings..our need to connect. This blogging experience IS truly amazing. It is spiritual...each post is like a light out into the ocean..and expression of who we are..and that desire to connect with each other..and perhaps our Creator..

This is my own photo. (-;

Camping

My parents next to our HILO trailer

My parents first introduced me to camping when I was one year old.

I do not remember the tent camping stage of that part of my childhood, but I do remember our old Starcraft pop up trailer. I had my own bunk and I couldn't touch the canvas if it was raining or I'd get wet. I loved my little corner of the trailer. We also had a screen house we would set up that would help to keep out the mosquitoes and rain- so we could have our meals in relative comfort. I loved the outdoor cooking, the smell of the meat on the grill, helping my mother shuck (sp) the corn..the campfire popcorn, marshmellows, sometimes strawberries and cream. I loved being outside in nature, the peace, the time to relax and read a book by a lake or river. I loved the nature walks and ampatheater shows/talks, and the new places we were able to explore. Hiking with my dad. Cooking with my mom. Occasionally, we would go camping with my father's parents. I remember exchanging stories with my grandmother as I helped her walk to the bathroom. (she was not very steady on her feet) I remember singing to her "who's afraid of the big bad wolf" (She was very patient and never seemed to mind) Sometimes I'd lie down beside her when she had to put eye medecine and wait for it to work into her eyes and we'd share stories again-episodes of the Waltons or Little House on the Prairie. I remember her telling me that she liked the earlier Walton episodes better before they started drinking. I remember clipping some of blond hair into her hair thinking it would make her gray/white hair change back into younger hair and this would make her reverse in age.

Each camping trip was an unique experience. Each was special in its own way and each had its challenges too. When I was about ten, we sold the Starcraft and my parents bought a HILO trailer that would raise with a hydraulic system. As I entered my independent teen stage; I opted to be in my tent and I loved my "own space". I loved listening to the sound of the rain pattering on the canvas as I read or wrote poems or thoughts into my diary. Ahhhh..the endless hours I could spend in my own thoughts back then... (is that child calling to me NOW?)-

my tent on the right

Even after graduating from high school, during college I'd go camping a little by myself. My parents worried, I know when I was on my own..It wasn't quite as fun alone...

One of the first traditions I wished to preserve after getting married was to go camping every summer. We have done that (almost). We tent camp. (I prefer using a tent.) My husband and I camped across the country back in 2002. Then when our son was 3 1/2 months old, we went camping for 8 nights in Florence, Oregon. (a tricky experience because it was cold and we had to lug our food and equipement in a wheelbarrow every mealtime) Our daughter had her first camping experience when she was one. This year we went to the Redwoods for a week and a half. My father was able to join us which felt really special as I owe this important aspect of my life currently to him and my grandfather.

Camping with young children (as parent) isn't the same as when I was a child/teen...It is MUCH more work and less relaxing, but still, it always feels worth the effort as I see my children gain from the experience. Each year, they seem to learn something about nature or become stronger more mature/wise. My son especially is very much at home "outside". My daughter also toughened up quite a bit this summer as we did a lot of "kid hikes" It is good to get away from the TV, the computer, the landline phone..the housecleaning, the toys, the the the... and simplify life a bit..

My father, myself, and my 2 children

My father told me the story of how he started camping. It was my grandfather's idea after reading a magazine. I think my father was about 14-15 when they first went...so that would have been the early 1950's.

They found an old tent that my great-grandfather had collected when he was working as a janitor. The rest of the equipment they made themselves.. I think it was very cold/hard sleeping on the bare ground/

I guess that parks were just being built as a way to boost the economy-getting families to sight-see, to travel, spend money, etc..

In any case, it has become our family tradition; and I hope it continues for more generations to come.. I hope we preserve enough of our parks that my great-grandchildren can also experience the awe and spiritual relationship to our world.

my husband and children (drawing/writing in their journals).

Poem I wrote while in my tent and listening to a storm outside:

The Test of Life (8/21/89) 16 years old.

The violent storm raged

Gales of wind whipped the ocean

as lashes struck each wave

A war between land

that wanted to be constant

and forces that made change

The clouds covered the earth

with black malicious eyes

and loud striking commands

So much hate, yet the earth's world is a mirror

of the spiritual trials we follow

The cruel attacking

The merciless striking of lightening

leaving a shock of pain

To look at the clouds

No realization of the malice

that could break you

because you cannot really see

Until it hits you

you can ignore the clouds

fight the wind

but you cannot obstruct the lightening

all their lives

people fight the wind

and deal with lightening

as it strikes close by

If they fight hard enough

they will survive the storm

to be rewarded with a definition

stronger than the hurt

The sunny day seems so much brighter

And the person

so much more whole, confident,

and less wary of survival

If this can be gained

how could those hateful clouds

be seen as so hateful

when they give us a gift

nothing else could giveenjoying nature (me at 14 yrs.)

A little blurb on the history of camping:http://www.talkcamping.co.uk/guides/history_of_camping.html

Age 12 (1987) Second to last visit with Grandma

Ok. I did say that this would be a time capsule "eighties" And in my vision of this blog; I imagine a going back and forth between the past and the present time including excerpts from old journals. I took a look at 1987...Yikes. I was a dork. Well, not really a dork, but it is embarassing how much I talked about "crushes" and the such at that stage in my life. I was 12. But here at the end of that diary is a significant memory I have.

So, here goes: (keep in mind that this is in the words of a 12 year old...many spelling (sic) and such errors and probably typos in copying.) and forgive my immature 12 year old perspectives..

Saturday, April 25, 1987 age: 12

I just finished the paper route with dad. He didn't have to work today. So we didn't have to get up at four. I'm not tired at all even if I wen tto bed at eleven and got up at five. Yesterday the most amazing thing happened to me. We went to go visit Grandma at the hospital, because she had a severe shock almost a stroke leaving her right side paralyzed. This happened Monday just after we had spent the weekend with Grandpa for Easter. Grandpa told us Grandma wouldn't even recordnize (sic) us. She couldn't talk or anything. Excpet somehow deep inside me I couldn't realize that. When mom and I went into her room (which last time we were visiting her I was about eleven and wasn't allowed to see her, because of my age) The first look at her I thought she was dead, I was so scaired(sic). I waslked over to her and she was sleeping. I tried to wake her, but I coudlnt' tell if she was awake or asleep. I tried to talk to her, but she gave no signs of recordnition (sic). I read her a healing prayer(my favorite the one I read when I burned my foot). still no recordnitions I told her over and over how much I love her still no resonse that was when I remembered all the times I told her that and she would kiss me and later on when she went to the convelenscent (sic) home she would squeeze my hand, but she just lay there unrecorditionalble. I started to cry. I have never eally felt this way before, except when I couldn't find Panoochie, (our cat) or when I aw that dead cat. When I cried over Mr. Wyman it wasn't my true feelings or when I cried of Grandma Kennedy it really wasn't real, but this time it was true tears not tears that I thought I should shed.

Then mom came over and said a prayer for her. I then kept talking to her and telling her about camping all the fun we had. When I told her stories about the tv series, Waltons, and Little House on the Prairie. The n the nurse came in and I asked if I could hold her hand, I no longer felt like crying. I tried to hold her hand, but she shook it and didn't want any part of it. She probably thought I was a nurse. So I just put my hand over hers and kept talking ot her. I put my head on her sholder and closed my eyes for a while. I wanted to show her my love and that it was me. that was when she turned her head and looked at me. She moved her hand and I held onto it. She sqeezed my hand! and looked at me directly in the eyes. I knew she had responded to me. I told her about the movie Rags to Rickes and I cold tell she liked that. Itold her again that I love her. The time was running out though, we had been with her for most of the time and had to give dad and grandpa a chance to see her. I told her we had to go and I kissed her on the lips and she kissed me back! That gave dad and granpa only 20 minutes to see her. while we waited in the waiting room I saw people talking to a deaf person in sign language. I wen tover and talked to that person with my hands too using letters. When dad and grandpa came back they said granma was very conscous(sic) and even reached for granpas (sic) hand. I have never felt this good in my life.

Core of Self: Unapologetic

I've been thinking recently about how I identify myself and how I have related to other people for years..

I often find myself in a role of looking for assurance from the people around myself. Am I okay. Am I lovable. Is my existence worth something to them? Do I often try to impress them, or share a piece of who I am with them from this locus?

In my life this search for assurance has taken on so many forms. And I realize that even my personality is (slightly) altered depending upon who I am with. Often their energy sways my energy; and I try to fit in with them.. This isn't' the case always. I do not think I do this so much with my husband, or when I already feel accepted and loved.

Alas, though, when I do not get this assurance; I wonder about my own value-or feel hurt that I don't think I am liked. (Isn't this silly) It is not who I want to be.. I should not depend so much on assurance from other people.

I want a strong "core" I would love to not care so much what others think. I "know" I have value. I am proud of who I am and where I have taken my life. I don't think everyone is proud of me..I don't think everyone respects that I chose to be a stay at home mom at this point in my life. I don't think everyone appreciates that I am really into gardening, violin, my kids..care about what goes into our bodies, into the air, the soil, etc.. I think many people might not even agree with the principles of my Faith/and or the things I choose not to do for my faith such as not drinking alcohol.

Many people may look down on how I parent...That I believe in nurturing them/the relationship.I also do not believe in over-scheduling them (but we are still busy) I am also not always a die-hard disciplinarian...I also know I'm protective of them.. perhaps too much.

There are so many points where someone could disagree or look down on how I choose to live/raise my children, etc.. I can do the same thing, probably do...Seems inside our "shell" we think we are doing things in a "better" way. I am living and raising my children in the best way I know how, within my own conscience...and I am not saying it is better than anyone else's way. but I am so often plagued by the "feeling" that I am not approved of.. I wish I could be like Philip Glass and just laugh at the criticism-see it as a sign I am doing something right. And I pray that my children grow up to be okay, well-adjusted, etc..


Inside my heart, I am not apologetic. I am on this path honestly...and I adapt as my children grow...as I learn better.. Some of my "protectiveness" is making way to encouraging their autonomy, independence. I am NOT set in stone.. I have changed so much in this journey and I continue to change when I feel the path is "right" for me..when it seems I am doing the "right" thing. But I hate skepticism/and or competition...it drains me..especially when a part of me is looking so hard for assurance..the skepticism hurts. I already know I'm not perfect. I am doing the best I can. And sometimes I long to hear "I'm doing just fine" and that my children are doing just fine, etc..

I'm rambling.. But I suppose that is the point of the blog. It is the journal I am willing to share. Personal, but not too private. (-;


In any case, I wish for a stronger core..one that is not swayed..I think it is stronger from just realizing the limitation of "seeking assurance" from other people. I don't want that to be the place where I am coming from. I wish to transcend that. Perhaps I already am transcending that..I can see myself leaving that limitation behind..flying above it to something else more solid and real..

My Mom

My mother's name was Cindy and she passed away when I was 26 from a heart attack. She was 55. It was sudden and took us all by surprise. I never thought I'd lose my mother at this stage in my life, before I was married and had my children. She would have been an incredible grandmother. She was certainly one incredibly devoted and loving mother. I was an only child, so of course, I became a focal point of my parents attentions and hopes. more than I wanted to be; however, now I miss my mother tremendously.

I miss what I know she would do.. Talk about her grandchildren endlessly. Share and brag about their pictures. Send them gifts and save things just for them. I feel like my children are missing out on that-the kind of devotion and love that she she was overflowing with.

I do believe; however, that she is with us in ways that I can't even imagine...like a guradian angel..part of the mysterious Concourse on High.. Perhaps life would not be so good right now without her "protection"..I feel like she is helping protects us. perhaps.. And her influences..perhaps she whispers in our ears the guidance we need in those rough moments..Perhaps she soothes my children in their sleep.

One example of her love was that she read to me every night. I can't say enough how important it is to read to our children. Reading was something I looked forward to every evening. It comforted me..it was and expression her love, her time spent with me and because of that I have loved books, reading, learning..and because I loved books, I found a way to survive/and sometimes thrive in school.. And now, I read to my children every night..

I would like to write more about her in this blog..about her influence upon me..and about how that impacts my own "motherhood".."womanhood"

This is a poem I wrote about her a few years ago:



Squishy Love: Raw Memory
In my memory of
My Mother:
11/26/06

Body

Warmly soft voluptuous
Folds and handles
Sweat and rash
Womanly musk

Jagged cropped to quick fingernails
Striped stained shirt damp from dishes
Short straight black hair wet
Slow wobbled walk
Unhurried speech
A treasure map of side trips

Her eyes fiercely loving
Searched and squinted
Trying to understand
Straining to see


Soul

Her smiles like her name full of light
A complete unguarded eruption of joy
Gleamed in her eyes.
Her laugh robust, unchecked and unpretentious

An ox of will
A mission she holds fast
Generations of her mothers within her cells
Drive her onward

Strong, she ascended her damaged brain
Her mind remembered
Despite corporeal commands to forget
Her heart would later fail her
But never her will
Forever her will and her love
Perhaps she hugs me still
In the whisperings inside my soul


Lioness of love
Fierce and protective
In the layers of reign I’d feel overwhelmed
She’d see where I would try to hide
Under my bed or within myself
My childhood basked in it
My adolescence rejected it
…..My adulthood misses it….


Memories

Faithfully every night beside my bed,
She read stories
We journeyed together with
Imagined and real characters
A rabbit gentleman and
A spunky pioneer girl
Her low rich womanly voice
Stumbling over words
Soothed me
Into a safe, comforted slumber

Night fears were greeted with patience
She rocked me back into her womb, my refuge.
Her body like a luxuriant fleshy pillow heated my own
In the cold dark house
We snuggled in the company of the gentle ticking of the mantel clock
The humming refrigerator
The crunching wooden joints
As our weight strained the chair

On the couch, the three of us
Our Tradition of Laurence Welk and Waltons
Buttered popcorn and salty tears
Her touched heart would unveil
I fondly remember,
In the shake of the couch
A silent cry, like her unquiet laugh
Unmasked by her all familiar tremor




Her heart open and moved
The child inside
Footprints of who she has always been
Petals opening briefly
Revealing her sentimental heart

Walks, the two of us
Colored lights sparkling over
Snowy cold New Hampshire dusk
The smell of the cold metallic
Snow crunching and melting in my mouth
Memories of the
Quaint New England stores
The white gazebo and fountain
The steepled church -
The Queen of the traffic circle



What lives on…

Now I hold my own children
Against my milk filled breasts and spongy middle

I regret that they do not know her
I ache that I can no longer be a child in her arms
I mourn for my father’s loneliness and
I feel cheated of a mother’s comfort
When I most want a grandmother for my children.

But, in my touch I know it is like hers
And because of her, I can love my babies fiercely
I read to them as she read to me
And walk with them as she walked with me.

I even think that perhaps
Through my touch, they will know her
Squishy love
Someday, in the ethereal
The place where we all eventually
Mesh in a forever embrace