Jeanne K... connecting

XMAS

2011-12-04T12:48:00.001-05:00

XMAS. I’ll write itthis way if I want to. Do not tell meto “Keep Christ in Christmas.” Unless... you have the RIGHT to tell me. And do you? Do any ofus? You can blast me for writing “xmas”ONLY if you are willing to do the Christ-like thing during the Christmas season...and help ONLY the needy!

Christ would NOT buy lavish gifts for his family andfriends, let alone spend hundreds of dollars on wrapping paper, bows, tags andboxes. He would not put up a treedecorated with lights, bulbs, garlands and artificial snow. He would not spend hundreds of dollarsdecorating the outside of the house with blow-up snowmen, twinkling lights andfancy wreaths. He would not spend aminute agonizing over what to buy whom, what to serve for dinner, how to work inall the traveling, which party to attend and which to skip.

He WOULD provide food for people who were hungry andunwrapped gifts to fill a need for children and grown-ups. He’d marvel at the beauty of snow coveredtrees and stars twinkling in the sky. He’d spend time with family, friends, and strangers listening to theirstories.

So, unless you are willing to do as He would do, don’t tellme to keep Christ in Christmas. I don’tknow ANYONE who actually keeps Christ in Christmas anymore, including me. I get “wrapped up” in all the glittertoo. It’s tough.

Going to church for Christmas Eve services, saying we aregiving gifts (to anyone who already has everything they need) because it isgiving out of love, putting up a fancy tree to bring cheer to the house,decorating to make the house and neighborhood look pretty, wrapping gifts so aloved one can open them and be surprised... all these things and more are NICE,but they are NOT what Christ would do! Serving dinners to the homeless in a soup kitchen on Christmas day isNICE too, but Christ wouldn’t do this and then go home to a family dinneraround the dining room table in a warm cozy home decorated for theholiday. Christ would not buy threegifts and donate them to ‘Toys for Tots’ or ‘Secret Santa,’ and then buy 10more expensive gifts for each his “own” children.

And by the way, since Christmas is the celebration of thebirth of Christ, why do we give gifts to other people? In his honor? Really? As mydaughter-in-law recently said, “Oh, the things we tell ourselves to justifywhat we do.”

Furthermore, Christ would not set aside a special day orseason to do the right thing... Christ did the right things, the Christ-likethings... every day.

My point is not that we shouldn't celebrate Christmas inwhat's become our traditional ways and do as many Christ-like things as wecan. It's that I personally can'tpreach "Keep Christ in Christmas" when I'm not doing it myself! And I'll go so far as to say that no oneelse can either. Except for Thich NhatHanh and the Dalai Lama. :-) Not one ofus should think that refraining from using the "X word" isenough! It's not. Getting caught up in stupid details is justanother excuse to ignore people around us who are suffering... and it’s veryself-righteous to think that spelling out “Christmas” is sufficient to considerourselves good Christians.

If keeping Christ in Christmas were as easy as not writing “XMAS”...then everyone, I mean EVERYONE, all over the world, would have all they need onChristmas and... every day.

Merry Xmas and Merry Christmas!

PNC Park

2011-06-12T16:03:00.000-04:00

Sorry the Pirates didn’t win today, but was so glad togo to my first professional baseball game! Love PNC Park and Pittsburgh!

Thanks to the panoramic feature on my little camera, thisphoto really captures the feeling of the whole day!

My friend, Carol Buxser, was right: There’s nothing like actually being there vswatching on TV. You don’t get the sameexcitement from TV. Carol suggested Igo more often. And so we have!

The crack of the bat

Hot dogs, peanuts, Coke

Thousands cheer “Go Bucs!”

~Haiki by Ric Cochran

Is That Weird?

2011-06-01T15:45:00.000-04:00

My dear friend Pam posted on Facebook that she sawa van in a parking lot that reminded of her mother, who had died a few yearsbefore. Upon seeing it, she went backin time and wondered for a moment if her mother was okay, and asked if that wasweird?

Some friends who’ve lost loved ones posted that they toohave similar experiences.

I hear my Dad’s voice sometimes just like he’s talking in myear. A first I respond to him. Tthen I “catch” myself and remember he diedalmost 3 years ago. And then I catchmyself again... and say, “Next time I’m going to stay with thefeeling... the knowing... that he IS here with me.” I’m sure all those we love are right next to us whenever we callthem, and sometimes they do drop by to say hi. It’s not the same as the physical presence we know, but the people welove and those who’ve loved us are never far away. And there’s that part of our brain that KNOWS IT!!! Thank you, God.

Flying Fur Balls from Heaven

2011-05-08T16:09:00.000-04:00

I walked for over an hour and a half thismorning at the park with Bodhi. Aftereveryone left the park, for the first time, I let him walk off-leash. And it was wonderful. If he would get ahead of me on the track, hewould periodically check back to see where I was and wait for me. If he started to go into the woods, I said“come back,” and he did! It wasamazing. We both felt free and laughedand giggled. It was... blissful! After I got home and we were sitting on thefront porch, cooling off, I felt GOOFY, actually. I was inspired to write poetry!

As I sit on the front porch and watch the soft littlepuffballs of dog hair

float from our door mat into the morning breeze

and land gently in the trees and on the neighbors’ flowers,

I am reminded of the myriad of ways God has of making mesmile.

I use the “poetry” term loosely, of course. But in reality, the wonderful morning didmake me realize and remember, God is the inventor of giggles! And I think we’re meant to giggle a lot...like little kids!

Jumping in Puddles

2011-05-07T15:53:00.000-04:00

I was walking Bodhi in the park and saw a little boy, whohad apparently been told my his mother to go back and get his scooter. I watched as he came in my direction. He suddenly veered off the track to take adozen or so jumps in a big puddle. Hetried to hump higher and higher so that the splashes would be bigger andbigger. Then, just as suddenly, he leftthe puddle and went to retrieve his scooter.

That little guy was living in the moment!

Sometimes I feel the desire to splash in a puddle, butdismiss the thought.

For example, when I was at the park, I wanted to just laydown in the grass and giggle and let Bodhi run and jump over me. But I quickly wondered what others wouldthink... and would I get grass stain on my clothes? Sometimes I see a lonely old man eating alone in a restaurant andI want to talk to him and ask him questions. But then I remember I have so much to do and I have to get going.

How different would my life be if I always lived in the moment?

What kind of people would we be if we all stopped to splashin the puddles?

I’m thinking we should give it a try!

I'm Still Here!

2011-05-04T11:44:00.000-04:00

My friend Jack posted on Facebook: “Woke to a cold house, checked the furnace and then called my dadand told him the symptoms. He showed upwith a spare igniter he already had and I had heat within the hour! For those you lucky enough to still havetheir dad, or someone like him, remember to thank them for all the littlethings they do to help. Peace and love.”

I am so grateful for Jack’s post. When you write or say something good, one never knows how it willaffect another person, so it’s always important to put good messages outthere – these are the kinds of things that are meant to be shared. What Jack wrote made me stop and realizethat even though my dad passed away 2 years ago, he still “shows up”... notwith an igniter for my furnace, but with one for my soul. For instance...

When my daughter and granddaughters and I were walking inthe Susan G. Komen Race, a pink balloon tied to the stroller suddenly cameundone and took off up in the air. Icould clearly hear my dad say in his mischievous tone of voice, “This one’s forme!” Ha! Daddy was walking with us! (Probably slowed down to walk with us, because he loved to RUN in races.) We watched the balloon go up, up, up, until we couldn’t see itanymore. But we knew it was stillthere! Daddy’s message to us: “And even though you can’t SEE me anymore,I’m still here.”

When I was recently worried about Jill crossing theU.S./Mexican border, I heard my dad say, “Don’t worry, Jeanne. I’m gonna be there with her.”

I’m sure my dad is still very close to me many times. If I was less preoccupied, and spent moretime in expectation of his presence, I would probably notice him more. Thanks, Jack, for the impetus for a new wayof thinking and being.

Mmmmm... Mexico Musings

2011-05-03T12:48:00.000-04:00

HAPPY “SIGNS” IN MEXICO

Happy signs? I’m not talking about the street signs that are “tucked away” on thesides of buildings, sandwiched in between other information or decoration. Although that does make me smile. What amazes me is that the people are by andlarge poor, and yet their very lifestyle shows a multitude of “signs” that theyare happy. Even interacting with agringa like me. I see an older womanwalking down the street on calloused feet, carrying a heavy bucket of corn tobe ground, shoulders bent from years of this daily task... and in my brokenSpanish I smile and say “Buenos Dias.” Immediately her head raises and a broad smile crosses her face as shereplies, “Buenas Tardes” (because I usually forget that the time of day haschanged the appropriate greeting).

Celebrations

Mexicans celebrateeverything! Lots of holidays,birthdays, quinceañeras (a girl’s 15^th birthday), weddings. In the US we celebrate most of those aswell, but the celebrations last for days in Mexico! Although poor, when everybody gets togetherand shares what they have, there is an amazing abundance of food! And there is decoration as well – brightlycolored banners, tablecloths and servietas (cloth napkins), and flowers! (I can’t help but think of Jesus feeding the5,000.)

There are parades and processions going on all the time. During the Independence Day Celebration,there was not only a parade downtown, there were big parades in each colonywithin the city! Bands, floats, queensand their attendants (like my granddaughter Sophie), candy being thrown fromthe floats! Confetti being thrown fromand TO the floats. One of thehighlights of my day was when a bunch of confetti landed on me. (Some fell in my purse, which will remainthere forever.) All throughout the day,we would see people with some confetti still in their hair, and we knew theytoo had been at a parade. It rainedlater that evening and the confetti was washed down into the cracks of thecobblestone streets. It wasbeautiful!

Dancers

I never did figure out the name of the kind of dance that we oftenwatched during the Independence Celebration, but it was a kind of a mix ofIrish dancing and Bollywood! Again thecolors of the flowing dresses swirling and twirling emitted utter joy andhappiness. The photo of the girl inyellow is my son-in-law’s sister, Kari. And my granddaughter, Sophia, is in green.

Markets & Bolsas

I loved going to the Mexican markets. Talk about color! Everywhere you look is color! We walked under various colored tarps through the streets. Under the tarps were neat stacks of colorfulvegetables (which the people bring to the market everyday and set up theirtarps and stack the vegetables, and tear it all down at the end of theday). There are brightly coloredplastic buckets, clothing, hats, handmade toys, hand-painted crosses, aprons,and more vegetables, fruits and seeds.

For some reason, I was really drawn to the bolsas carried by thefolks who were shopping. These aresturdy, plastic, mostly plaid, bags of all sizes that folks carry to themarket. Most, if not all, are made byhand, and they will hold whatever you can fit in them, no matter what theweight! There are so many colorcombinations. In the U.S. we aregetting better at taking our own bags to the store with us, but they’ve beendoing this in Mexico for decades! Iloved watching the people go by with their brightly colored bolsas. I can’texplain my fascination over the bolsas, but I think my husband, Ric, hit it onthe head. He said that the bags arerepresentative of core happiness among the Mexican people... if they werebasically sad and distraught, their bags would be perhaps brown or a drabgreen... but no – they use every colorin the rainbow! Only people who arebasically happy and always reach for the joy in life, no matter theircircumstances, would create a bag like the bolsa!

Kids & Dogs

The children are incredibly happy... not many have actual toys at all...rather they spend their days playing quite creatively. Their giggles sound the same in the U.S. andMexico... only the language is different. There doesn’t seem to be much squabbling and sentences like “he took my(fill in the blank)” because they share easily and the “things” they play withare plentiful – they climb trees, play hide and seek, get fruit out of a tree,play one of the many playgrounds, etc.), but also because they do not OWN manythings. The niños are playing with EACHOTHER and not so much with things.

Heck, even the dogs seem happy!

Mexican Food... I'm talking food folks actually eat in Mexico :-)

cecina (thinly sliced and seasoned beef)

chirizo & salsa (sausage)

chorros (cinnamonbread sticks)

eggs & salchicha

elote (corn on the cob, sprinkled with lime juice, rolled inchili seasoning)

fish taco

horcheta (coconut drink)

hot dog (si! even inMexico!)

manzanita (apple soda)

nieves (ice cream)

nopales (cactus)

pan dulce (sweet breads)

pay (pineapple muffin)

picada (mi comido favorito)

pizza (si! even inMexico!)

pollo rosado (roasted chicken)

pollo y salsa rojo (chicken & red salsa)

polvarones (orange cookies)

queso fundido (ham, pineapple, cheese)

rice taco (made withyour own choice of ingredients - fish, chicken, veggies, etc.)

shrimp cocktail

sincronazada (ham& cheese “sandwich”)

takis (highly addictive snack chips)

taquito

torta (like asandwich, but the bread used is amazing)

tostada

Día de Los Muertos (November 1-2)

“Day of the Dead” – it may sound weird to our American ears, but this is a joyous and wonderful celebration of the lives of family and friends who’ve passed away. A time to remember loved ones with fondness – by placing things on a homemade altar that remind us of the family member or friend – photographs, foods they liked, an object that represents something special to that person such as sports, music, a momento. Lots of marigolds are used – the official flower of Día de Los Muertos – pots of them are placed in the shape of a cross in front of the altar, with marigold petals leading from the gate to the house.

Best of all, the families gather together for 2 days* to share memories, food and time with each other. In 2010 my daughter and son-in-law hosted the Oferenda at their casa in Mexico.

*Although it may be called “Day” of the Dead or Independence“Day,” holidays are actually celebrated for more than merely one day inMexico! Of course!

Night Sounds in Mexico

All through the night church bells rang, roosters crowed,and dogs barked. At first, these soundskept me awake, and I thought I would not sleep for the entire two weeks of myvisit. But within a couple days, thesounds were actually soothing to me! Although I still heard the “noises” in the night, they became soundsthat let me know “all was well” outside... and reminded me that I was sleepingin another land. Ah... an odd Symphonyof Sound, and I loved slumbering to this strange harmony.

Just when I thought I was familiar with all the night andearly morning sounds, I awoke to a man on a bicycle (obviously pulling a cart),riding thru the neighborhood calling out, “Tamaleeeeeeeeeeeees!” Now that was the coolest wake-up call I’dever heard. I woke with a smile.

Kids at Play

In a nearby town where my daughter and son-in-law live in Mexico,a Tree Lighting Ceremony was held in the plaza. Their little girls (my granddaughters) were playing in the plazawith 8-10 other little kids. Jillwrites, “Amazing how much fun kids can have running around in circles, 5 littlegirls sharing 1 Barbie doll, little boys playing with a soccer ball and arubber ball, kids playing with a piece of string – all the timelaughing, giggling and squealing with delight. Life here doesn’t ask for much – kids here don’t ask for much – littlethings make people happy.”

I love what Ricposted on Facebook the next day... “Give a kid a cell phone and she will learnthe limits of technology... give her a piece of rope, and she’ll imagine abeanstalk to other worlds.”

Simplilcity

2011-05-02T11:55:00.000-04:00

I long to have a room in my house like this one. Yet I know darn well, after stepping inside it, I'd go back out and get a rug to bring in to sit on while I meditate. Then perhaps one little plant for some greenery. Maybe a few candles. Why not some of my favorite books? Oh, a good place to keep my dumbbells and yoga mat so I could work out in a nice place. I'd need music, too! CD player, guitar, music book. Oh gosh, by now I'm gonna need some shelves...

My life is so busy, filled with so many things I have to do,responsibilities, errands to be run... that I often feel overwhelmed. Even with only two of us in our home, thingsstill pile up a bit and I can’t stand the clutter. I feel better when I’m someplace peaceful... mainly in thewoods... but also in a place where furnishings are sparse and accessories arefew. So, I’m trying to relieve mystress by living simpler. It’s adifficult task, more so than I would have imagined. I’m starting to do this with my physical surroundings. Seems a little weird perhaps, but I know Iwill feel better to be living in an uncluttered environment. A therapist once told me I have a need tocreate order out of chaos. It was an“ah-ha” moment for me. So, I’m goingwith that, and presume it will lead me to other more beneficial and spiritualways to live simply and with less stress.

Recycling has caused me to realize how much stuff we canaccumulate, so I also want to simplify by using less stuff in the firstplace. When I feel I “need” something,instead of going out and buying it, I’m looking around me to see what I alreadyhave that will serve the purpose.

I’m also inspired to live with less after having been toMexico twice (not as a tourist, but by visiting family). There, folks have small homes, neatlyorganized, always clean, with minimal furnishings and appliances, yet warm,cozy and comfortable. When I’m there, Ialways think, “This is just fine! Whydo I need so many rooms in my house?” Ric and I recently went to Holly River State Park and stayed in a littlecabin, along with a friend. It wasplenty of space. We were peaceful andcontent, felt no stress, and had similar thoughts as I had when in Mexico. I can’t really see myself getting down totwo or three rooms, but who knows? Anyway, I’m going to start with making the rooms I have more peacefuland uncluttered.

Another thing that’s currently driving this need is a bookRic handed me to read... one of the great classics... “Walden” by Henry DavidThoreau. It’s the story of the twoyears he spent living in the wood by Walden Pond in his one room cabin with thebare necessities. He found an abundanceof treasures communing with nature, reading, entertaining occasional visitors,and more. My head spins as I read hiswork, and think about how complicated we make our lives!

Well, here was my first test. It wasn’t much, but I gotta start somewhere in implementing whatI’m beginning to believe. We’re goingto be selling our house in the near future and move to a smaller place...however, I will still need a little space for my art studio. A great opportunity came up to rent a roomin one of our old downtown buildings. Ihad lots of cabinets, drawers and a closet in my in-house art studio... but mynew one downtown was just one room, so I had the challenge of not buying toomany things in order to store my equipment, art supplies, framing and mattingtools, frames, finished work, etc.

Tables and one shelving unit, I already had, so no problemthere. I needed storage for things, sowent first to the garage. My Christmasdecorations were stored in plastic bins on a big wire shelving unit. They didn’t need to be on the shelves, sothe wire unit went to the art studio. Iemptied some shoe boxes and used them in the studio to hold paint andsupplies. I took some cups and mugsfrom the kitchen cabinets to hold brushes, pencils and other things. Grabbed a lamp from one room, a chair fromanother, a vase from the mantle... and moved them to the studio. I loved that more than one purpose was beingserved – making my art studio workable and comfortable and clearing out a bitof space in our house... plus, I saved money by not buying new things tocontain my stuff. It wasn’t as easy asit sounds... as I realized something else I “needed,” I constantly had to askmyself questions like, “Do I really need this, or is it an unnecessaryluxury? Do I have to buy thisthing, or do I already have something at home that will work just as well?” Itfelt good not to have added to my collection of belongings!

What I did is no great deed or amazing contribution to theworld! For heaven’s sake, I was onlymoving stuff from one room to another. But what was different for me was I didn’t go out and ADD to my currentstuff. It was a little thing in thewhole scheme of things. But isn’tstarting with something little, the first step in making bigger changes? Isn’t something better than nothing? I hope so. ‘Cause it not only felt good, it was fun! Fun is better than stress anytime!

My Favs!

2011-05-01T18:06:00.000-04:00

Color – Blue
Season – Spring
Movie – “With Honors”
TV Show – “American Idol” “So You Think You Can Dance” “Dog Whisperer”
Song – “Love Hurts” by Nazareth
Snack food – Pita chips
Lunch food – Tuna salad on whole grain bread
Drink – Diet Orange Sunkist
Restaurant – Mexican or Indian
Flower – Blue Hydrangeas
Tree - Hemlock Pine
Book – “Seat of the Soul” by Gary Zukav, “Where the Heart Is” by Billie Letts, “A Walk in the Woods” by Bill Bryson, and so many more!
Nursery Rhyme – “There was a little girl, who had a little curl...”
Hobbies – Painting, piano, guitar, jewelry making
Favorite way to spend free time – Doing any of the above, reading, walking/hiking in the woods, hanging out at a bookstore or café, going to movies, attending live music performances
Some things most people don’t know about me: I am not a morning person. I think I could eat a whole cheesecake.

What I Get to Do

2011-04-30T16:49:00.000-04:00

I was loading stuff into my car today to take to an Art Expo tomorrow. I posted what I was doing on Twitter. I added that I was happy, because I didn't want anyone to think that I was complaining about loading the car. I wasn't thinking of it as work, but felt happy that I could paint and was going to be part of an art exhibit. It was something I "got" to do!
I've been trying lately to think of work and chores as something I "get" to do.

Who wouldn't... finding themselves holding a hungry child next to them to keep warm on a cold night with no shelter or food... want to be in a hot kitchen doing dishes? That would be a sign that you had shelter, warmth and food for you and your child.

No I don't remember to think of everything I do as something I get to do all the time, and I'm pretty sure I'll forget several more times even today. So, if you see me sometime and hear me say, "I'm so tired, it's been a rough day," feel free to ask me what it was I got to do.

What?? On Easter Sunday?!!!

2011-04-24T15:33:00.000-04:00

"He probably chooses this life!"

"Sometimes you just can’t help people!"

"Why does he have to lay on the church wall... and on Easter Sunday! Jeeesh!"

My husband, Ric, posted this photo and those comments onFacebook. Now I would never postsomething like that... not because I’m too good of a person to post it, butbecause I wouldn’t have the COURAGE to risk being misunderstood to make apoint! My husband does.

Ric got slammed by a few people on Facebook. But not be people who know him...they got his point.

We actually did see this man lying on the wall in the SacredHeart garden on Easter Sunday. We were awestruck! So many levels of enlightenment can be found in this scene.

I like what Jim Lange said: “The Universe loves irony.”

Ric eventually posted a comment on his photo: “My intention is just to inspire us tothink, think, think. This is going onevery day. One of the ways we have (inCharleston, WV) as taxpayers, dealt with the situation in recent years, is tohave spikes added to the tops of walls so that vagrant loiterers arediscouraged from tainting the ambiance of downtown...”

Most of us have uttered the words in the caption of thisphoto, in one situation or another. Many of us have seen the dirty, smelly, disheveled person walk throughour church doors... delighted he or she wanted to be there, yet secretly hopingthey wouldn’t take a seat next to us. Those are thoughts we wish we were above thinking... but we thought themanyway.

We are meant to love, without understanding why and withoutjudgment... AND we are not meant to have such pristine lives that we can easilyand quickly look down on others.

Ric and I walked through the garden enjoying its beauty andthen returned back to our home. ThishomeLESS man found a safe refuge and a place to lay his head for a while. At a place designed to bring comfort, peaceand serenity... for everyone needing a little rest.

Holly River State Park - Fall of 2010

2011-03-13T13:12:00.001-04:00

Ric and I enjoyed a wonderful trip to Holly River State Park with our friend Jack last fall. Jack is a loving, kind-hearted, intelligent, talented childhood friend of Ric's. Although I had met him once before, this was the first time we had spent any real amount of time together. Jack likes to talk. He will tell you so himself. We were amazed at all the words Jack could cram into one sentence... all GOOD stuff... but sometimes it's hard for our brains to keep up! So we would laugh. And Jack would say, "I know I talk too much." And in a way, yes... but really I wanted to shout, "No, don't stop! This is amazing!" So at Holly River we got the best of three wonderful things life has to offer... laughter in the midst of the extreme natural beauty found in the middle of West Virginia, and a newfound friendship.

THE HIKE

Walking, climbing, wandering thru the forest...

Little streams and falling water

Moss-covered rocks

Among the bare trees, still many with bright yellow andorange leaves

Green rhododendron

Soft hemlock pine

Fallen leaves on the trail

Little surprises along the way – a deer, a “golden” pond

THE MAID

The guys were outside and I went back to the cabin to get abottle of water. While there I decidedto take a few minutes to straighten up and make the bed. Later when all three of us came back inside, we walked through the door and the dialogue went something like this...

RIC: Ah, they madethe bed!

JACK: Yes, they did!

ME: “They”?

RIC & JACK LOOK AND EACH OTHER AND LAUGH

ME: Gotta say it...spoken just like a man.

RIC: Men are slugs.

MY HEMLOCK

I had been to Holly River many times, many years ago... andthose camping memories are good. Iremember sitting around a campfire with my mom and dad. I remember Danny and Jill having so much funriding their bikes and hiking in the woods. They (well, me too) loved roasting hot dogs and marshmallows over theopen fire. Yet, this time seemed likethe first time I had been there. Westayed in a cabin for one thing, which is in a different area of the park. But I think the real difference is that Ihave always enjoyed nature, but these days I really appreciatenature. As I hiked and walked throughthe forest, I keenly felt the energy of all the live plants and trees. I even buried my face in the low branches ofa hemlock pine and felt the delicate needles brush against my face. And I hugged that tree!

I was glad that I have been recycling during the past fewyears, and trying to use less to start with (but I’m a spoiled American, andoften fall short of my goals). My hikesover the weekend made me much more aware of my connection with the trees andplants and wildlife, whether I’m in the woods or driving on the streets ofCharleston.

WAIT A SECOND

We set the time on the camera to get a pic of all three ofus. Jack doesn’t just talk fast... hedoes everything fast... and expects the camera to keep up with him! Guess he assumed the instant we all threelined up together the camera would take our pictures. It took a few tries to keep Jack in the shot!

QUOTE OF THE WEEKEND

"I'm wearing my corduroys today." ~Jack

The Button

2011-03-05T17:26:00.000-05:00

I’ve had my Saturn car for 7 years. I love it. I’m keeping it for several more, because sadly I won’t be able to get another one (as of this year, Saturns are no longer being made). And now I love it even more!

I always thought I was told, when I purchased my Saturn new, that the back seats would fold down, opening up to the trunk, to allow for transporting large items. I would try to utilize that feature from time to time, but could never get my seats to fold down. There was a square button on top of each back seat, but when I pushed it, nothing happened. I tried various things, like pushing or pulling on the seat itself... again, nothing. So I assumed I just dreamt that this was an available feature. I don’t like to have to ask for help, but just recently I had to resort to asking my friend, Matt, to help me move a few things to my new downtown art studio. He happily helped me do so.

A few days later, I was loading groceries in my car, and saw that square button again. I felt around all sides of it, to an opening in the back. I put my fingers under the button, lifted it up, and voila! The back seat instantly folded down!

Seven years... 7 years... that’s how long I could have been using my fold-down back seats. 7 YEARS!

The button was there all the time. I just needed to lift, rather than push. How very simple. “Simple” referring to the mechanics of the button... and to ME!

Breathe...

2011-03-04T07:00:00.000-05:00

Breathe
For a moment, let that split second between breaths be the space where you keep the memory.
Let your pain, and questions fly out in a whoosh...
...
And thereafter,
As often as you're inclined,
Pause a moment there again,
And feeling full and satisfied,
Smile the memory of a friend.

~Ric Cochran

Camel Watering Woman

2011-02-27T10:51:00.007-05:00

FUNNY STORY FROM COMEDIAN JEFF ALLEN:

In the book of Genesis, Abraham sends one of his slaves down to the well in town to find a wife for his son. He tells the son to find a “camel watering” woman, a woman doing a good day’s work, someone with a strong back and character to match. I mention this, because I married a “camel watering woman” myself.

Tami is a product of a blue collar home. She is a tinkerer – she’s always doing something around the house. In the past, she has laid tile and grout in one of our bathrooms. She has put up crown molding around our entire living room and bedrooms. She also does most of the landscaping outside. In case you are wondering, I don’t really do that kind of stuff. We will leave it at that.

The reason I mention this is because something happened a few weeks ago that kind of rattled my cage.

I was out of town for a couple of weeks and when I came home, I noticed that what was once carpet in our living room was now hardwood. So I inquired as to where that came from.
Tami replied, “Home Depot. I took a class and laid it myself. Isn’t it pretty?”
That was not what I was looking for, so I rephrased the question, “What happened to the rug?”
“Oh,” she began a little slower this time. “It’s gone.”
“I can see that. Where did it go?”
“I threw it out. I was sick of looking at it.”
Understand, this is the first I have heard of this, so I asked another question. “When did this occur?”
“What do you mean?”
“I am curious, was it a week ago, a month ago, a year ago....”
“Why does that matter?” she asked.
“I just wanted to have an idea about how long I have left if you ever get sick of looking at me.”

We have been married for 24 years, which is about four times longer than that rug lasted before it met its demise.

I guess it bothers me because I am a lot like that rug, worn out and kind of shaggy, a little loose in the middle and there are a couple of bald spots on me as well. But I was comfortable with the rug and, up until this happened, I was comfortable with the way I looked.

Not any more. Now it’s to the gym. I’m going to tone up the flab, do a bunch of cardio, work on a six pack.... Aahhhh, who am I kidding? Fact is, while I married a “camel watering woman,” I’m more of a “caramel eating man.” So it’s off to Maggie Moo’s for a couple of humps of Caramoo Chunks in a waffle cone.

Slow and Fast - in Mexico

2011-01-09T20:44:00.000-05:00

Most everything moves slowly in Mexico. Although appointments are made, forget about things happening at the “appointed” time! In Mexico, things happen when they happen. Stores have their hours posted, but they open and close... whenever. This can sometimes be frustrating, but mostly comical. Meals are eaten leisurely (as they should be). And parties and celebrations last long into the night... no hurry... stay and enjoy!

The only thing that moves fast in Mexico is the traffic! It moves so fast, that it makes up for everything else that moves slowly in the country. Yikes! Hold onto your seat. When traffic is congested, drivers push their way through, blowing horns like crazy. Despite the rush, there seem to be very few accidents.

One thing that makes the traffic move fast, is that the combi drivers (of the city bus system) get paid, not by the hour, but by the number of passengers they transport. So, the amount of food that appears on the dinner table, is directly dependent on how may people the combi driver gets to transport. They waste no time. The first time I was in Mexico, I bumped my head extremely hard on the top of the doorway as I was entering a combi. I almost passed out. It was really scary. The driver kept asking me if I was okay... “Está bien, Senora? Está bein?” But as he was asking... he was pulling away headed toward the next stop!!! :-)

Special Occasions

2011-01-09T16:55:00.003-05:00

My friend, and art teacher, Kristina, posted on Facebook recently, “There are exactly as many special occasions in life as we choose to celebrate. ~Robert Brault.”

When I first read this, I thought... Hmmm... sometimes a special occasion, like Christmas, doesn’t always turn out as expected... there are some disappointments, or not everyone you want to see on Christmas Day can be there... but we celebrate what has gone nicely and those we did get to spend time with.

It also occurred to me that we can create special occasions. Why wait for a holiday to celebrate? The date of the celebration could be one of my choosing and I could work it around people with whom I really want to be with! The occasion? The first bud to appear on a tree in spring, the first leaf to fall in autumn!... a holiday only celebrated in another country, or a religious holiday that is different from my “own,”... the birthday of someone famous who inspires me... the anniversary of my high school graduation... oh my, the list of things to celebrate is limited only by one’s imagination, which is unlimited.

Now, those two things are all well and good, and fun... but perhaps the true meaning of the quote is to celebrate the NOW moments. Celebrate the things that are part of our daily lives... friendships, people we enjoy working with, the part of our jobs we like best, the part of staying home that we like best, family members we most enjoy being with, meeting someone new, some funny or unexpected event, or dancing with the one you love. Recognize the beauty of the MOMENT... and CELEBRATE it! :-)

Less Stress in 2011

2011-01-04T22:02:00.004-05:00

New Year's Resolutions: Trying to have less stress is probably at the top of the list for most people. It's there for me. But how can we lessen the stress? What can we change to make that happen? We can change jobs, but the new job will bring its own kind of stress. We can let the housecleaning go, but we'll eventually have to dive in and do it anyway and there will be more of it. We can take a vacation, but we'll have to come back home sometime! It occurs to me that we literally have to stop and take the time to relax and renew our energy... and make it a daily practice. Here are some ideas that seem pretty simple, but they'll make a difference if we make the time for them:

Find a room or a corner where you can be comfy, light a candle, and read a good book.
Breathe deeply. Breathe in and out, and concentrate on your breath. Have a background of soft music and... light a candle.
Walk. Walk along a path in the woods. Walk the labyrinth at St. Marks UMC in Charleston (everyone is invited to enjoy it).
Just sit. Sit on a park bench, sit on the back porch or sit on a log... and listen to the sounds, breath in the fresh air.
Watch water! Stare at a lake, watch the river flow, sit by a waterfall and be mesmerized both the movement and the sound of the rushing water. Or trickling water, as the case may be. :-)
Light a candle! Just sit quiety and watch the flame... think peaceful and happy thoughts only.

Just a few ideas. Again, they seem simple, but they'll work if we make the time to be quiet for a little while each day... calming our bodies and our minds. Yes, we'll then go back to our daily tasks, but with renewed energy. If we get into the habit of doing something that's meditative each day... we'll gain more and more peace and energy.

That's my plan. Watch out 2011... not because I'm charging into you! But because you might trip over me while I'm chillin'...

Gratitude for Expensive Car Repairs... Really?

2010-11-29T22:02:00.002-05:00

Yes! I try to practice gratitude everyday. Some days it's easy... some days it's tough! But if I'm serious about having an attitude of gratitude, then I need to be grateful EVERY day. This morning, during rush hour, my little white Saturn quit running while going up the ramp from MacCorkle Avenue to the South Side Bridge. Still in the shop tonight. Repairs are going to be expensive. The inconvenience is one thing... the expense is what I have trouble with. How can I be grateful for this unexpected expenditure? The first things that come to mind are things like "at least I didn't have a wreck and get hurt," "at least this didn't happen going to or from Pittsburgh last week," etc. Somehow I feel the need to rise above the it could have been worse kind of gratitude. So... after some thoughtful consideration I find much to be grateful for in today's situation.

I HAVE A CAR! I had a car yesterday, I have a car today, I'll have a car tomorrow. Most everyday of my life, I have the convenience of hopping into my car to go to work, shopping, on a trip, or wherever I want to go.

I have the MEANS to pay for the repairs. I don't have the cash, but I do have a credit card. I'm not crazy about using it... but nevertheless, I have the means to pay for the repairs.

The guy who is fixing my car, does this for a living. Because he has customers like me, he can provide for himself and his family. And, thank goodness there are people and companies whose business it is to fix cars. Otherwise, for most of us, when a car broke, that would be the end of it. My car will be FIXED. The mechanic will EARN A LIVING.

Things circulate... including money. I spend some today. I get some tomorrow (well, at least on payday). I'll earn most of it, some of it will be a gift. Actually, all of it is a gift. It's a gift to have a job. Having a car, even one that needs fixed, is a sign that I have GIFTS in my life.

If I choose to live a lifestyle that necessitates owning a car, then I must realize that that car will require repairs now and then. Other people will benefit from my car repair needs, I will benefit from their skill and knowledge. It's a trade-off... and having a car is a sign I get to CHOOSE my lifestyle.

Today has been an opportunity to PRACTICE not stressing out and not worrying. If I want my life to be peaceful, and I keep saying that I do, then I have to find peace in the midst of whatever is going on.

Lastly, I feel there is some unknown BENEFIT, some blessing in this event and/or in each step of my day today. Had I arrived at work as usual, I would not have had encounters with these people:

AAA lady who answered the phone
Steve & Jenny on the morning radio show
The Charleston Police Officer who came to direct traffic
Ray, the driver of the tow truck
The folks at Appalachian Tire
Facebook friends who responded to my goofy posts about my car breakdown
A nice chat with a friend in the building where my art studio is (where I waited for my car to be finished)
Our friend Matt, who brought me home from work

That's a lot of people! Why were they in my life today? Why was I in theirs? I must trust that there's a bigger picture I can't see - where everything in this day makes sense, and it works better if I make an effort to flow with it.

Now the real challenge: Can I hand that credit card over tomorrow with a SMILE? :-)

A Real Bargain!

2010-11-16T10:37:00.000-05:00

Ever had an experience where a child in his or her innocence completely misunderstood something you said? A chance to see something through a child’s eyes? I once gave my Dad that opportunity!

I don’t recall my age, but know I was pretty little. Daddy was trying to get me to do something (don’t recall what, perhaps some kind of household or yard work or taking care of pets chore). To give me an incentive to do whatever it was, he said “I’ll make you a bargain.” I felt a thrill well up in my entire body! A bargain! A real bargain? I could hardly contain my excitement. My dad was going to make a PLAYHOUSE for me!!! I have no idea why the word “bargain” meant a little playhouse, but that’s how I understood it at the time.

So, I waited and waited and waited... for weeks. No lumber, nails or paint in sight. No sounds of hammering in the night when my parents thought I was fast asleep. No giggles from my mom and dad as they planned what colors they would use on the walls. Nothing. I was so disappointed.

Then it occurred to me that he may be building my bargain someplace else, and the whole thing would be delivered on the back of a truck when it was finished. There, that was it! So my excitement grew again.

One day, weeks or maybe even months later, Daddy was reminding me that I hadn’t done something I was supposed to have done. I straightened my shoulders and pronounced to him, “Well, you haven’t done what you promised to either. You never built my Bargain!!!”

I can still see the perplexed look on the faces of my Mom and Dad.

(My dad worked long and hard to provide for our family. We weren’t poor, but certainly didn’t have extra money for things like building materials for a playhouse. However, upon realizing they had inadvertently disappointed me, my parents cleared out half of our back porch, which was to be for my use only – as a playhouse area. They found a little table, some chairs, tablecloths and such, storage for my tea set, etc. and that became MY space. I sometimes invited them to join me for tea in my Bargain.)

Footprints... A New Telling

2010-11-15T10:15:00.003-05:00

This is the Unity version of a familiar story:

Imagine you and Jesus, the Christ, are walking down the road together. For much of the way, His footprints go along steadily, consistently, rarely varying the pace.

But your footprints are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures, and returns.

For much of the way, it seems to go like this, but gradually your footprints come more in line with the Christ, soon paralleling His consistently...

You and the Christ are walking as true friends.

This seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens: Your footprints that once etched the sand next to Jesus' are now walking precisely in His steps.

Inside His larger footprints are your smaller ones, you and the Christ are becoming one.

This goes on for many miles, but gradually you notice another change. The footprints inside the large footprints seem to grow larger.

Eventually they disappear altogether. There is only one set of footprints. They have become one.

This goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is back. This time it seems even worse! Zigzags all over the place. Stops. Starts. Gashes in the sand. A variable mess of prints.

You are amazed and shocked. Your dream ends. Now you pray: “Lord, I understand the first scene, with zigzags and fits. I was learning. But You walked on through the storm and helped me learn to walk with You.”

“And when the smaller footprints were inside of Yours, I was actually learning to walk in Your steps, following You very closely. When the smaller footprints grew and filled in Yours, I suppose that I was becoming like You in every way.”

“So, Lord, what happened? Was there a regression or something? The footprints separated, and this time it was worse than at first.”

There is a pause as you feel the answer, with a smile you feel His voice inside you whisper...

“It was then that we danced!”

To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: A time to weep, a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance. Ecclesiastes 3:1-4

A Thought Path

2010-11-10T08:07:00.000-05:00

As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single THOUGHT will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.

~Henry David Thoreau

Chasing the Ice Cream Truck in Mexico

2010-11-07T00:08:00.005-04:00

But first... The Mexican Whistle

Mexicans have this very special kind of whistle that’s used to call for each other... guys use it to call for their friends... and mothers use it to call for their children. It’s shrill and loud... very loud. What amazes me is that guys recognize each other’s whistles and children recognize their own mother’s whistle! In the middle of playing a game in another neighborhood, one little girl out of ten will stop when she hears her mother’s “call,” say adios to her friends and run home!

Now... The Ice Cream Truck Bells

One of the coolest days from my recent trip to Mexico was when I had occasion to run down one of the cobblestone streets in my daughter and son-in-law’s neighborhood.

Dogs can be barking and the music can be up loud... but my 3-year old granddaughter, Amaya, can hear the tinkling bells of the ice cream truck from blocks away.

One afternoon Amaya and I were busy playing cars, and suddenly her eyes lit up and she said, “Ice Keam Tuck!” We quickly jumped up and rushed down the path through their garden to the street and opened the gate. But no ice cream truck! We heard the bells again and ran down the street, trying to follow the sound. When we turned the corner, the ice cream truck was going through the intersection up ahead of us!

Laughing and giggling, we ran and turned at the corner, with several men standing by watching a fair-skinned gringa grandma and her little nieta running as fast as they could, chasing the ice cream truck... which was continuing down the street oblivious to the fact that we were trying to catch it!

Instead of laughing, the men let out that famous “Mexican Whistle” and the ice cream truck stopped dead, then backed up to meet Amaya and me!

Little smiling Sami, who looked like he’s spent 80+ years in the sun, lifted Amaya up so she could look inside to pick the flavor she wanted. We gave him some pesos and thanked him for coming back to us.

Walking back to the casa with one of Amaya’s hands in mine and her ice cream cone in the other, I realized that even though I couldn’t get a photo of the scene, it will forever be a picture in my mind... running through the cobblestone streets in Mexico with my granddaughter... chasing an ice cream truck!!! An experience that won’t be found in the tour guides.

Gratitude

2010-11-06T23:14:00.003-04:00

There’s something to smile about every day! Every single day. Even on a bad day! There’s always something to smile about when I stop to remember what I’m GRATEFUL for in my day... and in my life.

Of course, this is not a new idea, but it is a good idea. There are so many things I take for granted, because I expect things to be good and to go well. But when one of those days comes along when everything seems to go wrong and I begin to think my life is a mess, I find it’s good to take the time to think about what was good that day and let it be a reminder that most of my days are pretty darn wonderful. Keeping a Gratitude Journal makes me aware that my life is not a mess, but blessed!

The things I record in my gratitude journal can be something as big as all of our kids and grandkids were here for Christmas to something as little as I had a great cup of hazelnut coffee this morning to something as silly as blue post-its! Some days, I write of things I absolutely take for granted, like running water, my car started this morning, a comfortable bed. There are no rules as to what I write down – it doesn’t have to be serious or profound – I leave it open to be fun and ridiculous as well!

I was told once that keeping a Gratitude Journal is selfish, because it becomes one of those “it’s all about me” things. I even stopped writing for a long time. Now I realize it’s like a prayer. It’s at least the one time a day, that I stop and let God know that I’m grateful for my life and everything in it. I suppose I’m even grateful for the troubles and stresses, because they give me a chance to rise above them, and of course... take that look around and see all that much is good, despite the problems.

Keeping the Gratitude Journal is even a blessing in itself, because I often enjoy going back to entries I made years ago and finding things I had long since forgotten. I get to smile about it once again!

Goofy Gratefulness

Looking back through my old journal entries, I find:
JUNIOR MINTS
HIGHLIGHTERS, especially blue and purple
GARBAGE TRUCKS (imagine... someone picks up my trash and takes it away!)
PENS
SOCKS
PILLOWS
TISSUES
TOMATOES
CHILI
CHAPSTICK
CHOPSTICKS
EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND RERUNS
WINDSHIELD WIPERS
FALLING DOWN AND HEARING PEOPLE LAUGH (they wouldn’t laugh if I was really hurt)
FALLING DOWN AND HEARING PEOPLE GASP (grateful part is being able to get back up)
DIET CHERRY 7-UP
MITTENS

Really-Reaching-For-It Gratitude Days

SCOOPED CAT LITTER (Why not? At least they have a specific spot to “use the bathroom” and scooping cat litter means I have cats!)
DID LAUNDRY (Love the scent of clean clothes, fresh out of the dryer)
WASHED DISHES (I like an empty sink)
VACUUMED (Now I won’t have cat hair on my socks)

Gratitude "Themes"

Sometimes when I've had a so-so day, nothing spectacular happened, it wasn't necessarily bad, just one of those uneventful days... I resort to THEMES! I may write down 5 people I'm grateful to have in my life, 5 favorite foods, 5 all-time favorite books I've read, 5 vacations I remember well, 5 things I was grateful to have experienced with my grandma or grandfather. It's a time to get creative... and then, of course, be grateful for creativity!

Gratitude on a Tough Day

2010-11-06T23:12:00.009-04:00

I was recently reading old gratitude journal entries and came across some from September 2007:

“My Dad has Alzheimers. He went to the bathroom to comb his hair and brush his teeth. He combed his hair with the toothpaste-filled toothbrush. I can no longer deny it... my dad is losing his mind. So what is there to be grateful for TODAY?!?!

There’s still TIME. Time to reminisce with him and recall favorite memories and share stories. There’s time to tell him how much I love him. There’s time to do special things for him. There’s time to tell him how glad and proud I am to be his daughter.

“I’ve had a wonderful life with my Dad. He’s encouraged me to write, to play the piano, to run, to paint... he’s taught me to be compassionate, even towards people whose faces I cannot see... he’s taught me to value and respect other cultures... to laugh, especially at myself... to love God. When I was the tallest one in my class in the 6th grade, being teased about it, and very self-conscious... Daddy taught me to pull my shoulders back and stand even taller. He gave me the gift of feeling beautiful.

“He showed me how to meet a challenge and see it through. How? He taught me how to drive! :-) I’m an emotional, artistic, dreamer sort of being... my head’s usually in the clouds – mechanical things don’t come easily for me. Like learning to drive. Daddy was patient and persistent. (He did let out a scream one time – when I went up over a hill and ended up in the wrong lane on the other side.) He never yelled at me, not even when I failed my driver’s test because I knocked over the pole while trying to park and got red paint on the side of the car. He kept teaching me how to drive... because he knew without a doubt that I would eventually get it. All these years later I still possess the knowledge that whatever I really want to do, whatever I set my mind to – I can do!”

The next day I wrote:

“Flipped over my Far Side Calendar this morning and there was the same cartoon that was mailed to me anonymously several years ago... In this dramatic turn of events, testimony against Mr. Pumpkineater is about to be given by his sister, Jeannie Jeanine Eatzucchini. Found out many months later that it was Daddy who sent it to me. :-)

“I’m still recalling lots of memories. I’m so grateful Mom and Dad gave me the opportunity to take piano lessons and insisted I continue when I was ready to quit. They always listened when I practiced, “requested” favorite songs and provided an abundance of encouragement. Playing the piano has always been a ready emotional outlet for me and is now one of my greatest joys.

“I also recall having a school assignment to write a poem or short story and being absolutely confounded about it. I couldn’t get started and was frustrated and crying. Dad kept encouraging me and telling me I could do it and then would leave the room. Finally I did do it – because he would not let me give up.

“Dad and I ran the Distance Race in Wheeling, WV, one year – 12.4 miles. He finished ahead of me, even though I clearly remember passing him during the race! He eventually confessed he got a “ride to a restroom.” The cheater.

“I remember when Mom was in the hospital once and Daddy fixed eggs for us for breakfast. They were runny, not fully cooked and nicely scrambled like Mom made them. They really grossed me out, but I choked them down, so I wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“One of Daddy’s favorite memories of me was when I was little I would stand on the toilet in the bathroom to be able to see to comb my hair in the mirror above the sink. One time I was wearing a pair of new red shoes and forgot to put the lid down before I stepped up... ‘er in. Mom and Dad laughed their heads off. Even if it was at my expense, glad I made him laugh! :-)”

So, there was that day I knew things would never be the same with my dad again, but because I was in the habit of looking back on my day with gratitude, I realized on that very same day... that I was the daughter of an extraordinary man... and was amazingly blessed!

Even on the day he died in August of 2008... though I was grief-stricken beyond anything I had ever imagined, I was still grateful Charles William King was my dad.

Thank you God for these very special gifts... awareness of the reasons to be consciously grateful... and to be the daughter of “Bud” King.

What's Your Definition of "Old?"

2010-10-17T15:07:00.001-04:00

My definition of old has nothing to do with numbers. Especially now that my numbers seem to be going up faster and faster!

Some would consider the age of 87 to be “old.” And some people are old at age 87. I don’t count health problems to be a measure of age. I’m thinking about our attitudes and spirit. For example...

My 87-year-old mother-in-law, Rita, lived with my husband’s, Ric’s, sister for over 30 years and recently made a decision to move to a retirement apartment complex. Although we could see some positives about the situation, the family was nevertheless concerned about how she would adjust to such a change... “at her age.”

Before moving, Rita would spend most of her days at home, not wanting to take a taxi to go anywhere, join a senior citizens group, play bingo, or anything that would get her out of the house. She was always excited to be a part of family events and gatherings, but beyond that her days basically consisted of a little cleaning up around the house, watching “Golden Girls” on television, walking out to get the mail, and waiting for someone to call her on the telephone. Ric, being a good son, usually made daily phone calls to his mother. On the occasions when he would not be able to call for one reason or another, his next phone call would be answered with something like, “Where were you yesterday? You didn’t call!”

Turns out Rita is doing okay at her new place. More than okay. Now her days consist of at least two “gatherings” a day, either outside in good weather or inside in a common sitting area, with other women of her “age.” They talk about treasured memories, their families and old friends, the weather, how the world has changed in their lifetimes, try to figure out what in the world texting and friend me on facebook mean, and laugh together about all of the above. And no doubt, they probably poke a lot of fun at the younger generation (like Ric and me!).

Recently there was a power outage at the complex. It lasted for 3 days. Did Rita accept invitations to stay with other family members during the time the electricity was off? No. Why not? Apparently this time of “darkness” was like a camp-out or a big slumber party for the residents at the apartment complex! Everyone stayed. Local churches and agencies brought them food and coffee. They continued and lengthened their daily gatherings. Together they wondered when the lights would be back on. (And perhaps secretly hoped it would not be “just yet”). Together they recalled similar “shortages” and difficult times in their lives... and recounted memories of the delight they found in their lives even when times were rough "way back when." I can hear now the chatter and the giggles that lit up the darkness and brightened their space.

These daily chats seem to be the highlight of Rita's day, but she also now makes daily walks downtown (8-10 blocks round trip and slightly uphill on the way back), takes a bus to places where she wants to browse and shop, and participates in many planned senior outings and events.

Several weeks ago, after having missed a couple days, Ric called his mom expecting to hear the usual why-haven’t-you-called-did-you-forget-you-have-a-mother type greeting. When she answered she said a quick “Hello.” Ric asked how her day was going. She replied in a kind of rushed tone, “Fine.” Ric then inquired if something was wrong. She said, “Well... I can’t talk right now.” Ric, a bit taken aback, asked her why she couldn’t talk. The reply: “I can’t talk right now. I gotta go. I’m going on a PICNIC!”

Little 4’11” Rita Cochran proves in a big way that we can make even major changes in our lives... at any age. It all depends on how you define “old.”

Singing for Joy!

2010-10-14T21:19:00.003-04:00

The rescued miners and all the people of Chile certainly had reason to celebrate after all 33 were brought safely to the surface. But I noticed something more in the rejoicing... some underlying energy... a sense of unity that likely was there even before the miners became trapped underground.

First of all the country has its own jacket! :-)

Seriously though, they also have their National Anthem. All countries have an anthem. But this anthem was sung with such enormous power, that I was in awe as I watched and listened to President Pinera, Luis Urzua, and the others sing. Every word was sung with emotion, definition, and punch! What incredible unison. I believe I may have held my breath until the song was over.

I witnessed similar singing of the National Anthem when I was in Mexico last month. Admittedly not quite as much passion as the Chileans were feeling as they celebrated 33 saved lives. But even then, it was very stirring.

Americans certainly united during the 9/11 attacks. However, I’ve never seen a group of Americans sing our National Anthem with the energy and gusto as the group who stood at the San Jose Mine last night!

Even though many Mexicans and Chileans struggle and work long and hard for low wages, there is a strong sense of unity and pride for their cultures. And it’s apparent in their celebrating... and their SINGING! I’m glad to have “been there.”

singing for country

from the heart of a nation

to ears of the world

--haiku by ric

Connecting, Praying, Loving

2010-10-12T16:48:00.003-04:00

Families and friends wait and wait and wait to hold their loved ones in their arms again. That part is something most of us can somewhat comprehend. But I can't begin to comprehend what the 33 miners underground in Chile since August 5 are experiencing. I do know they need my prayers. If I truly believe that when I pray, the pain of the one for whom I'm praying, is somewhat relieved, then how can I not pray for these men? I just found this link on the MSN page: 33 Chilean Miners Here I saw the faces and a very brief description of each person trapped underground. When you look into someone's eyes (even in a photograph), it's hard not to feel a connection. These men are far from us in distance, but our feet are on the same earth, we have been warmed by the same sun, have gazed at the same moon, and have wished upon the same stars. I pray that all 33 of these men are rescued safely and that they can again rejoice in the sight of the sun, moon and the stars, and the faces of their loves ones.

touching the same earth

our pulse is felt in all lands

all are connected

The Snooze on My Alarm Clock

2010-10-12T16:28:00.004-04:00

As soon as my alarm goes off in the mornings, there's this huge KER-PLUNK as Dot jumps onto the bed. (She's a tad overweight.) Then she lays right by my face and softly purrs. If I don't acknowledge within a few minutes that she's there, she gently taps my nose with her paw until I open my eyes and pet her head. All in all, not a bad way to start the day!

Mexico - Pyramids at Xochicalco

2010-10-06T20:53:00.010-04:00

Mexico is awesome... so much more to it than most of us realize. Since my daughter and her family live here, I got a really good inside look at the culture... and the landscape! The people here are amazingly gracious and kind. The landscape varies from desert to jungle, plains to forest, cactus and pine trees grow together, there's clean and dirty, modern and old... and speaking of OLD, it took my breath away to have my feet on the ground of these Mayan ruins!

Absolutely incredible views from the top. Actually it took us a long time to get to the top. We thought we were there right away, but kept finding a higher place to go.

I thought at first it was a "nice little village," but later learned it was an entire CITY! We just kept finding new places. We walked for over 3 hours... making one new discovery after another. There were two soccer fields and one game field!

Sometimes it was just a little vignette that we stopped to enjoy.

And some surprises... while we were stopping to take a break from walking, sitting in these ruins likely some 2,000 years old, my son-in-law, Daniel, got a call on his cell phone!

We were overcome with the idea of who had been there before us and were constantly awed that we were standing and walking in this place where 20,000 Mayans had lived and had built these structures, so perfectly designed for specific purposes.

My daughter, Jill, and I with the pyramid behind us. We had no idea at the time how long we were going to be there and how much there was to see!

Just a little trek on top of a Mayan pyramid... you know, the kind of thing I do most everyday. :-)

The Cochran Rat

2010-10-03T22:53:00.005-04:00

Yikes! When I see this thing, a blood-curdling scream can often be heard. But it's actually not necessary to scream... it's NOT a real rat! Ric bought this rat last year for Halloween. It looks soooooooo real, that it used to scare me to death. I couldn't stand for it to be anywhere near me. Ric and my granddaughter, Tierra, used to chase me with the thing and put it in places where I didn't expect to see it. My screams were followed by their roaring laughter!

I hadn't seen the rat for a long time, and then about 3 months ago, I found it behind the sofa when I was cleaning. Screamed, of course... but Ric wasn't home to hear me. So... I hid it in one of his shoes. Next thing I knew I was screaming again, because it showed up in one of MY shoes. So I hid it in the drawer in the bathroom where he keeps his razor and stuff. A few days later, I pulled a jacket out of the closet and the rat fell out. For a long time, we never spoke about the rat... it just kept showing up in different places, one of us waiting to hear the other one screech. Ric was hardly ever startled to see the rat, but it continued to freak me out for quite a while. Now, I no longer scream, unless of course, I haven't seen the darn thing for a while. It's always been my goal to really, really, really scare Ric. And a few weeks ago, I got him gooooooooooooood! I was downstairs in the family room and heard Ric actually scream! And curse, and jump around! When he opened his closet door, hanging by its tail from the chain to turn on the light... was the Cochran Rat with it's beady little eyes staring right at him!

Ric and I have come to believe that probably every relationship needs a "rat"... whether it's a stuffed rat or a fuzzy bunny, a favorite photo, or a rock - anything that's significant to the relationship in some meaningful or goofy way. The point is to have a "playful" thing happening in your lives... some silly little thing that keeps you giggling... even if one of you is screaming.

V100... I'm coming back! :-)

2010-09-30T12:13:00.004-04:00

I’m keeping my job with Kanawha Pastoral Counseling, but starting Monday, I’m going back to V100 to host the evening show. I’m so excited!

Being in radio has come as quite a surprise to me, because in Ohio I worked as a financial manager for a law firm, but especially because I used to be oh so shy. A turning point came when I had to give a speech in school and stood up to speak and nothing happened – I had no voice. I was so humiliated that I passed out and fell to the floor! Through the help of a kind teacher, and subsequent life experiences, especially in church, I not only overcame my fear of public speaking, but I now actually enjoy it.

When I moved to Charleston 10 years ago, I did not look for a new job right away, so I spent some time hanging out with my husband, Ric, who was already a DJ, at radio station events. WV Radio Corp. was looking for a new Traffic Reporter and Operations Manager, Rick Johnson, looked out his office window one day and saw me standing in the parking lot beside of one of the radio station vans. He came out and asked me if I would like the job. I told him I didn’t think so because I had no broadcasting experience. He said he just wanted someone who would pay attention to details and could report traffic problems in a friendly voice. Before I knew it, I was in front of a microphone. A year later, I was asked to do the midday shift on V100 where I enjoyed connecting with my “V100 Family” until accepting a job as Finance & Marketing Director for Kanawha Pastoral Counseling Center.

Recently, I was sitting in my car at the radio station waiting for Ric, when Rick Johnson strolled out the back door, and I was once again… hired in the parking lot! I’m really looking forward to being back on V100! I'll continue to work for the counseling center (which is next door!) and will now enjoy spending some evening time with my “V-Family.” We can connect in a variety of ways… through my blogs, on facebook, email, etc. I’ll enjoy knowing how others spend their days, what everyone’s up to, and listening to lots of great music… Today’s Hits & Yesterday’s Favorites! I’ll tell stories about the crazy ways Ric and I spend our days. And I’ll help us stay connected with all the wonderful and exciting things going on in the Charleston area. It’s going to be great fun!

What is the best thing money can't buy?

2010-01-25T21:38:00.004-05:00

A child's artwork to put on your fridge

A good night's sleep

A walk in the woods

A purring cat on your lap

A hug from your spouse

A phone call from your kids

When you're feeling down... make a list. Keep it in a notebook and add to it often, even if only one thing a day. It'll be fun to add to, to read, and to share with others!

Remembering when...

2009-09-03T09:44:00.000-04:00

It's been over 3 years now since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I still run into women who've just been diagnosed and remember that when I used to work for the radio station, V100, I openly talked about my journey with "bc." Today, I met yet another woman who was diagnosed just a few days ago. It took me back to that time when I couldn't even say the word "cancer" out loud. That's where my soon-to-be new friend is right now. I remember once again that time when I was full of fear and could hardly contain my tears to get through the day. The year of 2006 was a journey of a different kind for me... I found the words, "4:00 Chemo" on my calendar and couldn't believe it wasn't something more like "4:00 Haircut" or "4:00 Meet Sandy for Coffee." My calendar looks normal now, but for still far too many women, their calendars are changing for the next year or so. I kept a journal on our radio station website during 2006 - both to keep my V100 listeners informed and as a therapeutic exercise. If you, or someone you know, needs to know they're not alone... you may want to read a bit of my journal. My entries during that time were just daily or weekly writings of my experience. It's not always pretty, and it's not always ugly - in fact, it's sometimes funny. Most of the people who read my journal at that time were not even dealing with cancer. I guess we all have things in common... enough to relate in even ordinary daily living. But if you are dealing with cancer yourself or in your family, check out this blog... and at the very least, you'll know you're not alone in your fears, questions, and wondering about your ability survive. Too many women die from breast cancer, but I'm proof that it is also a survivable disease. (Start reading from the first entry, 3/8/06.)

Maya Angelou

2009-08-24T15:50:00.009-04:00

It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength. We all should know that diversity makes for a rich tapesty, and we must understand that all the threads of the tapestry are equal in value no matter their color.
-Maya Angelou, Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now

There are some famous people who inspire me... and Maya Angelou is at the top of the list. I first saw her on a TV show when I was 14 years old. I was in awe of Maya Angelou and her wisdom. The words I remember most from that first encounter with her are, "We are all capable of great good and great evil." Before hearing that statement, I didn't really think that I was capable of great evil. However, I quickly realized had one single thing been different in my life or had I not been loved... I could easily have been responsible for great evil. There are so many layers of meaning to that simple phrase, but at age 14, it raised my awareness of how we are all essentially the same inside, but the conditions into which we are born and the experiences we have throughout life, shape our actions. We're all responsible for our actions regardless of life experience... but I've come to believe that some of us are gifted with a higher responsibility to make this world a better place. We are called to inject great good into the world. And it need not be a "good" that makes headlines. Another person at the top of my "hero" list is Mother Theresa, who says, "We are not called to do great things, but to do small things with great love."

2009 Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure

2009-05-11T18:03:00.004-04:00

My daughter, Jill, and granddaughters, Tierra and Amaya, came to Charleston to join Ric and I in this year's race. Together we celebrated my having survived breast cancer! Three years now. Although he passed away last August, it turned out my Dad was celebrating with us too. As we were walking along, a pink balloon that was tied to Amaya's stroller came loose, and I could hear my Dad's familiar little chuckle as he said, "This one's for me!" He was letting me know that he was there walking with us. We watched the balloon as it rose up in the sky. We kept our eyes on it for a long time until it became the tiniest little dot. When it was out of sight, I knew it was still there... we just couldn't see it anymore. And that was the message my Dad had for me that day: "You can't see me now, but KNOW that I am still here with you!"

A Hatching at the Cochrans

2009-04-13T17:00:00.019-04:00

I came home from work one day and found a bunch of weeds sprouting out of a shrub in front of the house. As I pulled out the long weeds, I also pulled out a little clump of dried grass. Oh, I wished I hadn't messed with it... perhaps a bird was beginning to build a nest. Ah probably not... it's too close to the ground.

When I came home from work the next day, the weeds were back in the shrub! Once again, coming out of the inside of the bush like a fountain. What in the world is going on? I looked inside to the center... and there was a perfectly formed little nest. Built in ONE day!

Well of course we know birds build nests. But to see this one up close and to know it was built in a day, I marveled at the handiwork. It was perfectly round inside, and the grasses were tightly woven. I couldn't have done this with my own two hands and a pair of tweezers and glue! Yet this little bird gathered the materials and put it together in a day's time. Some would say, oh it's just instinct. Instinct? I can buy that. But the wonder of it is that God created the instinct in the bird! Thinking about the intracacies of it all boggles my mind. But then, rather than a God whom I could easily figure out, I would prefer to have a God that can boggle my mind. Mmmm... I wonder what kind of bird? Why build the nest so close to the ground? Will the eggs/babies survive with cats roaming the neighborhood? We'll see... I know there's some reason this little event is taking place in my front yard.

Surprise! When I came home today, I looked inside the nest... three little eggs. I also heard some squawking above me on the roof... the mother. None too happy to see me peering into her nest. I quickly moved away. Of course, I came back later and snapped a quick picture.

The mother is small, brown on top, with a brown & white striped belly. Either a wren, or a finch, but I think she's a song sparrow. I'll try to get a picture sometime. I shared my little bird story with co-workers today. Susan remembered a time a dove built a nest on the soccer field where her son played. Rosie said, "Did she miss the instinct class where they were told not to build a nest on a soccer field?" At any rate, the team made a concerted effort to avoid the nest while practicing... they even alerted visiting teams about the nest... and all the guys played soccer around it! Imagine... all those high school boys looking out for the bird and babies. I think all life forms can teach us something. Perhaps this was a time for the boys to let the soft places in their hearts to be nurtured. I wonder what my little bird is here to teach?

I always look in the shrub now when I come home from work. Today there was one more egg... 4 in all now. The mama watches me closely whenever I look in her nest. I'm pretty sure she's a sparrow. She looks like the pic in my bird book and the description of the way sparrows build their nests fit. Except, I still don't know why they build so close to the ground.

A week or so ago 2 or 3 of the eggs hatched. The tiny little birds were curled up together and I just couldn't tell how many there were. I was so surprised to find myself a little grossed out at the way they looked... no feathers, kinda shiny... looked more like snails... yuck. I tried to take a picture, but the mama was squawking like crazy. I decided not to disturb or frighten her. The picture here was taken about a week and a half after they hatched. They're cute little things now! Still tiny though. At least one egg didn't hatch... sad. I still can't tell how many birds or eggs are in there, and I don't want to poke around too much to try to find out.

Yesterday, Ric and I came home and the young guys that we've hired had mowed the yard. We panicked for a moment, because we forgot to tell them to be careful around the nest. They're still safe though. I had to chase a big cat away this morning. Sure hope these little critters make it. Mama continues to watch my every move.

Yesterday (5/12/09) when I came home from work, I checked the nest as always, and two of the cutest little birds were looking right at me! The changes were amazing... lots of feathers now... just adorable. I thought, "Soon we'll be seeing them learn to fly." I was going to snap a picture, but went inside, got distracted, and forgot. This morning Ric and I looked in at the nest and... the birds were gone! We agreed that they were not yet ready to fly. The mama and papa bird were above us on a wire... quiet... no chirpping as usual. Ric's first thought was that a neighborhood cat got the birds. But the nest itself was not disturbed. It seems like a cat would have just destroyed everything trying to get to the birds. The nest was in the same place in the bush, intact, with the egg still inside... the one that never hatched. We looked all around for signs of the birds elsewhere, but didn't see a thing. When I came home from work later, the first thing I did was look inside the nest, hoping they had somehow returned, but still, just the empty nest, with the one unhatched egg.

Mysterious. The little "decorative" weeds the mother had placed on the bush when she built the nest were still there. All seemed undisturbed, except for the fact that the baby birds were gone. Now the parents were gone too... no sight or sound of them either. I've searched all around the yard, but no sign whatsoever of our little sparrow family. What could have happened? Where could they have gone? I feel sad.

(5/14/09) Well, I think my story has a happy ending. It occurred to me to google song sparrow's nesting habits, and I found that "the young will leave the nest about 10 days after hatching, barely able to fly. The parents will feed the young for another 20 days. Within a week the first egg of the next brood will be laid." So... since the nest and shrub did not appear to be disturbed, I'm guessing the little tikes just left the nest and are safe somewhere, with mom and dad bringing them food and little baby bird toys...

Just a Tree

2009-03-14T14:26:00.002-04:00

Across the street from where I live was an empty wooded lot, with many tall trees, some probably 80 years old. Someone is now building a house there. I was hoping that they would conserve as many trees as possible, and I think they are trying to do that. I came home from work one day and some small trees and two large trees were down. Although it was a bit sad, I reminded myself that some of the trees would have to go to make room for the new house.

The next day I came home, and workers were in the process of cutting down one of the huge trees. Seeing the tree in the process of being cut down was a little more troubling to me. It was on the corner of the lot and I was thinking to myself that it wasn’t it the way of anything. Why was it necessary to cut down this one? I couldn’t dismiss my feelings of sadness this time, because I was seeing the tree alive and standing tall, and knew that shortly it was going to be lying across the ground.

It's a living, thriving tree...

I tried to push away my feelings of sadness for the tree, and found myself intrigued with how the men would bring this giant tree down. I went inside my house and kept returning to the front window to check the progress. It was a slow process... after all, it was nearly three feet in diameter at the point where the tree was being cut. I had been going back and forth from doing chores inside our home and looking out the window. Each time I returned to the window to look at the tree, I felt a little more connected to it. I kept telling myself, “Jeanne, it’s only a tree.” However, another part of me was saying, “It’s a living, thriving tree, and its life is about to come to an end.”

I noticed the worker doing the sawing seemed to fit the stereotype of a lumberjack... hard hat and red plaid flannel shirt. As I focused on him, feelings of anger toward him were surfacing inside me. “He’s just doing the job he was hired to do,” I tried to convince myself.

What kind of a man...

By now I was feeling sorrow for the tree. The man would saw for a while, then drive wedges into the cut with a hammer. Over and over... saw and hammer, cut deeper and insert bigger wedges and hammer harder. I was amazed that the tree did not move. The sawing and the wedges were widening the gap at the base of the tree, yet it did not move. I positioned myself right up against our picture window and looked up for the first time. As the chainsaw was cutting into the tree, I saw the high branches moving... trembling. Trembling! Oh my, this beautiful tree is feeling the pain of the cut... it knows its life is almost over. I quietly said to the tree, “I’m here with you. It’ll be okay. You’ll go back to the earth, and help make more beautiful trees.” I knew it heard me, but the branches still shook. I knew then I would stay with the tree until it came down. It was hard to bear though. I couldn’t stop crying. I was both sad and angry, shouting “What kind of man can do this for a living!”

He knelt down...

Well, immediately God showed me what kind of a man could do this for a living. The lumberjack stopped his chainsaw and I heard him call to his co-workers. “Okay, this next cut’s going to be it! Make sure you’re all out of the way!”

He then removed his hard hat... walked around to the other side of the tree... and knelt down on one knee in front of it.

He remained in that position for some time. His coworkers quietly went about their jobs, holding cables, moving out of the way. After what must have been three or four minutes, the man stood up, looked up at the big tree once again, put his hard hat back on, and went back to doing the job he was hired to do.

He did his job well, continuing the process of alternating sawing and driving larger wedges into the tree so that it would fall in the correct direction. And then the moment came. TIMBER! With a loud crash that startled our quiet little neighborhood, this magnificent tree, which had lived on this street for some 80 years... was down.

My lumberjack immediately removed his hard hat again... walked around and briefly knelt down once more in front of what was now a large tree stump.

My God gently said to me, “Jeanne, this is the kind of man who can do this kind of job.” Yes, a man who has reverence for all forms of life... a man who does his job with the utmost skill... and with utmost love.

The first lesson I recognized in this experience is not to judge other people... I can never know all that is in the heart of another. I also learned that when you ask a question in earnest, seeking the truth... God will answer. In this instance the answer came immediately. Perhaps most importantly, I learned – actually remembered what I already knew – that the earth is alive. There’s not anything that’s just a tree, just a mountain, just a river... it’s not just a butterfly on the other side of the world... it’s all alive. As our feet touch this earth and everything that’s in it... all things and all people are connected.

As I shared this story with a group of co-workers, one of them told me, “Even as that grand tree was falling to the ground, it was giving you a beautiful story about life itself.” Yes, the tree had purpose in its last moments and you and I are blessed to be the recipient of its wisdom.