July 30, 2007
I haven’t knit a lot lately, but I made a sweater for ABC’s new favorite softie Sock Monkey Joe (picture to come). I also have a log cabin blanket on the needles for my cousin who hosts all our reunions (a picture of that to come too).
As I catch up on my Bloglines, I see that Anne has a great new lace design on her blog and Cara ‘commissioned’ the perfect yarn to knit it! Rachael is test-knitting one for Anne plus having a blogiversary and a cool contest (plus just starting to knit lace this year–wow!).
More knitting to come . . .
July 29, 2007
I’m supposed to be doing financials for the lawyer. I think I’d rather scrub grout. I’ll get it done, even if it means staying up late. Right now, though, I’m having one of those weeks when everything seems to go wrong, and I can’t get my head around being organized. Some examples: lost driver’s license, lost in the mail credit card, broken TV remote, camera memory card that won’t load, lost cord, forgotten cell phone charger.
Get the picture? Nothing tragic, but all brain draining. And there’s not much left to drain at this point. I have to give a talk in a couple of weeks at a Support and Recovery meeting, and truthfully, I keep hitting the wall when I think about what I’m going to say. Not that I can’t be honest (or is that the problem?), but I can’t seem to get down to the essence.
I read this post on internetmonk.com, and I’m processing the whole ‘being honest about self’ and how that fits with ministry. A bit of an aside, but I think it might be part of what I’m struggling with. My New England sense of privacy and that oldest child perfectionism.
Back to the avoiding the work I have to do. Our church meets in a high school, and I went to pick up my daughter from her class (they used to call it Sunday School, now it has some other fancy name). On the door was posted this assignment for some high school English class (or whatever they are calling that nowadays, says the old fogey). I loved it, copied it down and saved it for a future day. That day is today. Here goes:
5 things that make you angry
1. Having to repeat myself a million times.
2. Bad drivers.
6 Things that Make You Feel Awe
1. the ocean
2. the night sky
3. a prairie sunrise/sunset
4. a beautifully executed piece of art–poetry, jewelry, sculpture, whatever
5. unexpected kindness
6. God’s grace
5 Everyday Things
1. a good cup of coffee
2. my kids giggling together
3. scratching my cat or dog’s ears
4. an email from a friend
5. stretching when I wake up
Now turn those lists (or any list) into a poem.
repetition, repeating, redundance
giggles and kisses
Now, consider yourself tagged and do a high school meme instead of cleaning the toilets. Your family might not, but you’ll thank me for it.
July 25, 2007
July 25, 2007
I just returned to Chicago from almost three weeks in Maine. It’s amazing how different this trip was than last year’s. Both were great, but there was a totally different take-away each time.
This is the spot where my beloved cousin got married a couple of weeks ago.
It was unspeakably joyous and unusual and made it easy for me to believe that attending a wedding could be a positive activity for someone going through a divorce.
There, I said it out loud. It’s official. I’m getting divorced. I vacillate between euphoria, gut-wrenching fear and paralyzing numbness.
Needless to say, these pastoral scenes were good for the psyche as was the fellowship of wonderful family members. I am so blessed.
Cape Porpoise, Maine–post wedding, pre-sunset. Heaven on earth.
A short trip to Rockport, Mass with a small contingency of cousins to catch some waves. Who cares if the water is 60 degrees Fahrenheit? The bodies sporting in them (the two tiny dots in the mid-left of the picture) are too young to be seized with burning joints when dashing into the surf. It was idyllic–a perfect day for kids and grown-ups alike.
Quincy Market reflected in the Great Hall sign.
Then a day-trip to Boston to admire at least part of the Freedom Trail.
I wonder if the Fathers of Our Country imagined Quincy Market as a place where half-naked tattooed and pierced contortionists would frolic for money? Or maybe it was like that then, too.
I felt a little like a spelling bee finalist when I commented to my cousin, “Faneuil Hall; that looks like a French name (although prodigiously ill-pronounced).” Et voila.
I know from French names.
And I fell in love with Beacon Hill doorways.
Then back to Maine for a wonderful family reunion, the publication of a family memory/cookbook which rocks, kayaking, and hanging out.
Now home again, home again jiggety-jig. Bought Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to read on the plane home.
I WAS RIGHT ABOUT SNAPE! I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!
The decompression after vacation has begun. It’s back to real life–opening mail, cleaning the litter box, paying bills. And the big stuff–meeting with the lawyer, finding a job, facing my enormous rage which has exploded after years of playing nice.
My take-away from last year’s vacation is that I am free–free of the burdens I have carried for years. My take-away from this year is that I can’t enjoy that freedom until I clean out the parts of myself where I have locked away anger, disappointment, fear and pain. To avoid it? To be the good girl? To ‘forgive’?
I have a chance to be someone new and yet to find the old me that got lost along the way. I have a chance to do something important–something I am called to do–something only God knows yet, something only I can do.
Vacation’s over, time to get back to work.