I know, she's a little old for all of this! And she knows really why we celebrate Christmas. She knows that her gifts pale in comparison to the Gift we were given.
Still, there's a magic about the holidays that I don't want to take from her. The only Santa she's ever seen was a volunteer coming to the house to hand out presents. Nothing like this. It's her first Santa picture.
I can't tell you how much fun it is to be celebrating this time in this place with her!
I honestly don't know where to start. Robert and I decided to take up mall walking. I need to get my heart rate up and my body weight down. No matter how little food I eat, if I don't move, neither will my body weight. I'm not unhappy, mind you. I'll grow where planted if this is the way God wants me to be, but my cholesterol is up, blood pressure up and platelets down. Gotta do something.
We took Andrea and began a brisk walk of the mall. The Chinese massage people beckoned to me. They know me. The have these great chairs you kneel on to have your back, neck, head, sides. legs and arms pummeled. It's wonderful. The last time I had a massage was the day I broke my wrist. I'll tell you - they aren't getting hold of my wrist until it's totally better. That's it. But my body was achy and I wished I could have that massage anyway.
Instead, we kept walking. On to the end, up the escalator (they don't have stairs!) and on for a turn at the top. We passed a place that advertised Aqua Massage. My body tingled! Really! I'm not kidding. There was a man lying face down in this chamber where water pulsated over his body. Between him and the water was a sheet of plastic that molded to his shape. Now, I'm not sure I want others to see me molded in that way. Oooh! Perish the thought. Makes me laugh to think about it. We walked on with a promise to come back on the return circuit. We did.
You cannot believe how wonderful it was. First I picked my music, then he adjusted the temperature and intensity. I was given a controller to halt the jets at any spot I wanted and to change the intensity some. Then the water started. I'm not ticklish on my feet, but when the water hit them, I giggled. From then on it was heaven. Twenty minutes of moist heat massage just how I liked it. They even sat Rob in a massage chair and let his feet sit on a foot massager for no charge. Of course, you needed a spatula to scrape me out of there after 20 minutes. I slept better last night than I have in ages. I'm definitely going back.
The deal is this: for $50 a month, I can go every day if I like! Cool, huh? An hour of brisk walking followed by a wonderful massage! That's what I wantfor Christmas. I'm tellin' my honey!
So today, we went to the doctor's office for my wrist. And who was sitting there but two ladies my size and age in purple sweatshirts and red hats. One was holding a stuffed bear with a red hat and purple boa. It was fun to see. I struck up a conversation with them right away. I'd heard of these ladies. Red Hat Society. Brazen older ladies who care more about fun and living life to the fullest than about whether their clothes match. Suffice it to say I am intrigued.
I got called inside, but Robert was stuck with the red-hatters for about 30 minutes. By the time I came out, therapy order in hand, he had me just about signed up. He thinks I'd look cute in a red hat. Can you imagine that? Cute I'm not. Fortunately, cute is in the eye of the beholder. The lady in charge handed me her card and asked me to give her a call. Maybe I will.
What do you think? Will a retired missionary fit into a society of women who wear purple clothes and red hats?
I just heard that missionary friends of ours are moving about 60 miles away from their current site. They care for severely handicapped kids, regular handicapped kids and babies with aids. Occasionally, they take in a normal child that is sick. It's an awesome ministry and I take my hat off to them.
By December 15th, they expect to have 40+ kids moved. That in itself is quite an undertaking! I also heard they just took two baby girls found in a trash can. That kind of makes me want to run down there and smuggle those babies home. I've always had a soft spot for babies. I wouldn't care if they were sick. Just how can you toss your kid in the trash? It's not just Mexico where that happens, it's here, too.
I've moved with a passel of kids more than once. It's not easy. At least mine were not in wheelchairs and walkers. The job will be monumental. I cannot imagine doing it. I assume that's why they've stayed put all these years in a place that was a bit less than what they needed. I hear the new facility is just what the doctor ordered. Praise God for His provision.
I guess I decided to write to ask those of you who pray to pray for those missionaries around the world who are helping out in their own special way. Especially now that our stomachs are full of a Thanksgiving meal and all the fixings. There's not enough money in the world to do the job and they are tireless in their devotion. Many, many kids have opportunities never dreamed of because some of them stepped out. My friend there is fond of telling that her life was good until God sentenced her to a children's home in Mexico. Now, she says, there are no words to express how great her life is.
Fifteen years I was in Mexico. They were fifteen years of joy, happiness, fun, trials, trubulations and many other things I can think of. The years were not bliss at bathtime.
When we first moved to Mexico, we lived in a 15-foot travel trailer on the beach. There was no toilet, only a bag-a-potty. We also had no water save that which we carried in from about 20 miles away. We were conservationists to be sure. If the weather was nice, we took Joy soap and bathed in the ocean in our suits and came back to rinse under fresh water that had been left in the sun to warm. If we wanted a "real" shower, we could trek the 20 miles and pay about a dollar for lukewarm water for about 4 minutes. We had to be quick.
After a few months, we moved into a larger travel trailer - 30 feet long. It was like a palace for us! We had also dug a large water tank on the property and placed a sump pump in it to bring water into the trailer. It wasn't drinking water, but with the little pump in the tank and the one in the trailer, we could finally take a shower. We still had to conserve, however, because it cost $20 a tank for the water. Also, we only had a 4 gallon hot water heater. I thought the shower in the trailer was heaven. I thought the potty in the trailer was heaven as well until we had to dump the holding tank into the ground.
We moved the trailer across the street so we could build a house. The trailer seemed to have shrunk, so we built a room next to it and another bathroom. That bathroom had a "real" shower in it. Same rules applied even though we got a larger water heater. Then we started to take in kids. We used a lot of water even if we had constraints on it. My best time to bathe was when we came up to the states for a visit. Then I felt guilty even taking a 5 minute shower.
When we moved into the big house, there was a huge bathtub, but I couldn't afford to fill it. Too many kids, too many clothes to wash and not enough time. From the beginning, a daily bath or shower was a luxury we couldn't have. We would bathe 3 times a week or so.
Then, 4 years ago, we lost our home on the beach and the kids and I moved to our pastor's ranch. HE had a well! Oh, glory be! I took at least one long shower in my weekly allotment. We had too many kids there for too many long showers, but I allowed myself one. We lived there for 15 months or so, during which time I married Rob. Lord love him, he liked a daily shower! Was he in for a surprise.
We had to leave the pastor's ranch and found a home to rent. It was way up on a hill and had "city water" available. I thought it would do us well. Ugh! The water only came up the hill 2 or 3 times a week. The water heater wouldn't stay lit because there was hardly ever any water in it. We filled a large above ground tank and a huge barrel with cold water when the water came - usually at 2 or 3 in the morning. If we wanted hot showers, we would heat water on the stove and carry a 5 gallon bucket of water to the bathroom. We would "dip" a bath and pour water over ourselves. It was effective, but I hated it. There was so little water that we bathed babies first, dirtiest kids next and so on. Adults often had to wait several stinky days for water.
At the ranch, we had plenty of water available, but the same restrictions applied because of so many people. The showers were good and good people helped us get the best water pressure we'd had since arriving in Mexico. Shower water drained out to water plants, so we felt good about the system. I ached for a bathtub.
We've been here 3 months or so now, and at first, all Hank had here was a tub (heaven!), but he managed to intall a shower head for himself and Rob and whoever else wants it. There's all the water I want, plenty of hot water and bubble bath just for me. I go to soak my achy bones and muscles in a little bit of heaven.
If you've never been without water, you probably won't understand this babbling. Suffice it to say, I will never take a bath for granted again.
This from Patrick's Place:
1. How long do your Thanksgiving leftovers usually last, and at what's the first non-Thanksgiving item you begin to crave when you tire of turkey? I cook a big turkey. Leftovers can last several day - maybe until the first of the week. Then I want Mexican food.
2. Of the following, which would you most prefer to be located:
a) Interstate highway traffic jam
b) Slow-moving checkout line
c) Dentist's chair
Since I'm talkative, the checkout line would serve me well, unless of course all the others were too ticked to talk!
3. What is at the top of your personal Christmas gift wish list this year? Laptop computer - no explanation- expensive toy, but I want it
4. What improvement would you most like to see added to AOL's Journal software? An easier way to put my pictures in. I don't like the way they look from you've got pictures and I'm still working on hometown.
5. What seasonal movies do you most look forward to this time of year? A Christmas Carol (the old one) and It's a Wonderful Life.
6. READER'S CHOICE QUESTION #33 from
I'm cleaning house this morning. Nothing to be grateful for, except that we are guests here and it feels good to be able to contribute. It may take a while before we are able to get a place of our own. Our housemate, Hank is so generous. We pay him for electricity and gas and it seems what we pay him comes back to us 10 fold in friendship and other things as well. Ever since we have known him, he has collected $1 bills for us to use as we see fit. He still does that. We end up spending a lot of that on the ministry,
I wash Hank's clothes along with ours and try to keep the kitchen spotless. It's not much, but it's something. We are scrubbing now to get ready to put up Christmas decorations. Hank brought down an unbelievable amount from the attic. Probably can't use it all, but it's fun looking through it.
What I can't manage, Robert and Andrea do. They are so precious to me. Andrea is better about chores than cleaning her room, but she's learning. Robert does all the heavy stuff for me. When he first got here, this house was an unbvelievable mess. He started to clean right away and worked the entire two months to get it ready for us. The room we sleep in was packed to the ceiling with donations of clothes and "stuff" for Mexico. Rob was tireless. Hank's friends came over and thought they were in the wrong house. Now Hank is getting used to it. I wonder what will happen when we leave.
Gratitude comes in many forms. There's the big stuff: life, family, kids, etc. But there's also the little stuff that touches the deepest part of the soul. A smile when I don't feel up to par will break the cloud from my countenance. A quick note from a friend will do the same. I may well take the beg stuff for granted. I am eternally grateful for a loving Father and all the little stuff that comes my way to remind me just how grateful I am.
I got to sleep in until nearly 9 am. It was delicious. I could think of many Thansgiving days where crack of dawn was the norm. This year it's just the three of us and we can do as we like, eat when it's done - no pressure.
After Hank spread his famous salsa all over the kitchen, Andrea and I cleaned up the mess and got to work. With delicious pumpkin roll already made and ready to slice, the turkey and fixin's were the order of the day. With each step, Andrea would ask, "Wat is dat, Mama?" At the ranch, I cooked turkey on a rotisserie - we didn't have the use of an oven. I would explain to her and smile at the wonder on her face. Did I have that look when I was young? At her age, I was cooking turkey!
It is so cool to look into her sparkly black eyes and see the newness of nearly everything she does. Mostly, it's smaller kids who still have that wonder, but having just left Mexico, everything is new for her. That makes it new for us as well. It's like having a baby when you are old. You never knew how wonderful they could be.
It really is different, you know. During the last 11 years, I had tiny babies many times, often more than one. Andrea was one of those babies. I adored my children when they were born, was in awe of God and the process of birth, but I worried how they would turn out. I worried that I couldn't do the job well. I worried what others would say. When you are older, you just don't care about those things. Their importance is low on the list.
My first Thanksgiving with Andrea, she weighed just 10 pounds. She was 8 1/2 months old. She had doubled her weight in a month. There was no awe in her face. She was struggling for survival. Not so now. She is full of awe at every turn and we are full of her. What a grand pleasure!
So the meal came out of the oven late, about six pm. It didn't matter what time we ate, because it was just the 3 of us. Andrea could not believe the big, browned turkey! She wondered why I called it a bird and I reminded her of the turkeys we kept at the ranch. Her eyes opened wide! I could almost see her thoughts and the resolution not to eat that thing. Dressing was my way this year and I put some of that, some turkey, yams and peas on her plate. Robert got a leg. We took pictures. We ate. They stuffed themselves. I nibbled. After cooking all day, I wasn't really hungry. Everything was delicious. I wish you could have seen Andrea's first bite of candied yams! It was phenomenal! Her eyes actually watered and she said, "Mom! I didn't know dis would taste like dat!"
We'll have more Thanksgivings together and maybe they will be more commonplace. This one, however, was one in a million. I can't wait for Christmas.
We are truly blessed.
First a memory that came to me this morning;
My mother and I boarded the train at Union Station in L.A. and headed north to spend Thanksgiving with my sister Sharon. She was having a rough time. Her very premature baby had died just a month or so before. I was 10 years old.
I loved the train. I ran from car to car, meeting people on the way. My mom and I especially liked the dining car. Mom sat there with something to drink and her cigarettes. I learned to play cards with a dapper old man. The train took forever to reach Walnut Creek. It stopped at every little burg on the way. Mom called it a milk train.
The scenery was great! I had seen some of these things before, but from the train it seemed brand-new all over again. There were bazillions of cows and farms and trees. I couldn't get enough. I wouldn't be surprised if my face print on the windows wasn't permanent.
When we arrived, Sharon picked us up and took us to her home. They lived in Navy housing. I had never seen anything like it. White weather-beaten siding as far as the eyes could see. The wood was only about 2 or 3 inches wide each strip. It didn't stop for each apartment, rather ran the whole length, probably 20 or so units at a time. Outside the back doors, there were clotheslines as far as the eye could see, with assorted clothing hanging there. There were no fences, but a lot of grass and lots of kids. Since there was no school, the area was packed with kids of all ages. I stood back and watched them play. I wasn't much of a joiner. Besides, I felt better with adults.
Inside, Sharon had all the fixings for a great turkey dinner. She looked at Mom and said, "I don't know what to do." Mom shoved me in and said, "Penny will help."
So that day, I taught my big sister how to make a turkey. I felt so grown up in my skinny frame, pulling pinfeathers from the bird, stuffing and basting. My sister looked at me with a new respect and it was grand.
Here's my baby studying. She's having a tough time of it. I would turn back time if I could and teach her the basics years ago. Isn't it funny how the basics are often the hardest to learn? They are the stepping stones to more learning and I find she's mad at me most of the time. She can't figure out money no matter how hard we try. I thought that came natural to girls!
The English language is also a stumper. We add so many letters that really aren't necessary. When she writes a paragraph in Spanish for me, it's all one sentence connected by &'s. When I correct and translate for her to copy, she doesn't understand why all the periods. The vowels all sound different and "e" and "i" get mixed up all the time. It's a monumental task.
I would hate to be 10 years old and just learning what my peers learned years ago. I would hate to be 10 years old, period. She's a spunky kid. "I don't gonna be stupid, mom!" she shouts. She cries with frustration, takes a break and comes back for more. I would have quit long ago, but not this kid. She wants more and she wants it now.
Her rewards are games and television. She loves television, which we didn't have for her in Mexico. And of course it's all in English which helps her. I have to learn balance, though, because she would live in front of the TV. Dad gets her to watch the NASA channel with him and she writes reports for her school advisor. Works for me.
She's looking forward to the holidays, her first as an "American girl." Me too. It will be the first time in years we haven't celebrated as a family of 15 or more. Just the 3 of us. That's a nice sound. Hubby, me and one smart little girl. Wow.
Picture # 1 - Underneath these poor abandoned tomato plants is what used to be a small fountain and pond. Now the only thing lurking there is the potential for West Nile Virus. Must get some bleach in there soon.
Picture # 2 - Our room-mate is a body and fender man and I found this old car stuck under the avocado tree. I didn't get closer because - who knows what's creeping around in there.
Picture # 3 - Wonderful for summer sitting, the swing has become a bird-bench, a place to toss stuff we are going to "get around to" and a bed for the next door neighbor's cat.
The cast came off today! I was so excited about it. I wanted to free my wrist for the bath, for dishes, for lotion and to drive. I had to feel better out of confinement.
WRONG!! :(
It only hurt this much right after I broke it (pout!) and now my hand must weigh 50 lbs if it's an ounce (pout, pout). The doc ordered a brace which I hoped I wouldn't need, but is now saving my sanity. Man! It's tough getting older!
I broke my other wrist at the tender age of 12 and was totally healed and out of the cast in like, 4 weeks. What's up with that?
Anyway, all else is fine here. My daughter doesn't want to study, my hubby is still sick and now our room-mate is sick, too. We have beautiful sunny California weather but no one besides me wants to enjoy it.
Enough complaining, It could be worse. We could have snow.
I've started another journal. It's an autobiography of sorts. I promised one day to write the story of the child I gave up for adoption. Many years ago, he came looking for me. Now he's found his dad. It's time to write.
It's as much my story as it is his. He'll have to write his own side. I'm going to put the story in installments. The first two read one and two. After that, they will seem out of order as newest entries show first. I've already had a lot more to say than I thought I would.
Look in if you dare.
Each stage of my life has had a favorite song or theme. Oh! I loved Janis Joplin singing "Piece O' My Heart" Reflective of how I felt in the 70's, I thought that's what the world wanted from me. Scratchy, gravelly voice, that woman sang my soul. Of course, always a day late and a dollar short, I didn't discover her until she was already dead from an overdose. No matter, I idolized her anyway.
Today may songs lean more to church service than rock & roll or metal. I still love folk songs and oldies take me back to that Janis time. I always wanted to sing just like Joan Baez. I would listen to her hour after hour and my daughter and I still sing "Let Us Break Bread Together" a couple of times a week. Gratefully, no one is judging the performance.
It seems I am always complaining
About one little thing or another
I stubbed my toe, I broke my wrist
It’s tough being wife and mother
If the truth can be told . . .
And I’m good at this
My complaints can all fit
On one short list
I love my husband
More than I can tell
Whoever picked him
Did the job well.
I only have one child
Left to raise
She good, she’s wonderful,
Worthy of praise
The grown kids have,
As you might guess
Lives of their own now
I must confess
I’m proud of them all
Young and old
They’re my kids
And I’ll be bold
No grandkids are smarter
Or cuter - not one
If they were closer
We’d have lots of fun
So when I’m grumpy
And starting to bitch
Remind me, dear friends
That I’m rich, oh! So rich!
Thanks to the Lord
Who loves us so
I have these riches
Wherever I go.
Penny
Back from the doctor, it's kind of a gloomy day outside. The trees even seem depressed. There's no breeze blowing and branches seem to sag with the weight of a morning dew not yet burned off. For some reason, even the birds are quiet. None is at the feeder we have set up. In my mind's eye, I can see them huddled together against the chill, beaks chattering a bit and each one hoping someone else will go and get food to bring back to the branch.
Cars whiz by on the avenue. I have the door and curtains closed against the damp and have waited past noon for the sun to peek out. No such luck. There's no heater in our room and I'm wearing my jacket still. My fuzzy shoes are great and though I've thought of jumping under the covers for warmth, I'd have to shed them first. Andrea has her little hands stuck in warm dishwater. She doesn't seem to suffer from the cold like I do. She a ray of sunshine even when the sun doesn't come out.
Robert and I both have some kind of virus. Sore throat, icky ears, stuffy nose and body aches. Just have to let it run its course, but I sure hate it while happening. I have no energy. Glad that puppy isn't here yet. There's a beautiful siamese cat outside that I guess belongs to the neighbors. She's cold, too and looks longingly at the door and gives a pitiful meow. When we went out to go to the doctor, she came up to me and did the purr-leg rub-front end lift and looked at me with soulful eyes. I know she went to sad kitty school and got an "A+" I didn't let her in, however. Two birds and a kitty doesn't work well. Besides, she's not ours.
Had a quick IM with my daughter this morning. She's having a tough time. I hate it when she's bummed out. I feel so powerless. She wants to know why God isn't helping if He's all that great and I tell her that some things He leaves for us to do and that the results are up to Him. She's not pleased with my answer, but I know what I'm talking about. I've been in and through the fire on enough occasions. Unfortunately, that's no comfort to her. I'll just keep on praying. That's something I can do.
I also got to meet Krissy online this morning. What a delight to chat with her. We have many things in common despite our age difference. I'm enjoying this j-land experience now that I'm getting the hang of it. Making new friends. I like that.
Saturday morning and we have spent the better part of it cleaning the kitchen and refrigerator. Ugh! What a job! Since I broke my wrist, I haven't been able to do any deep cleaning and although Robert and Andrea help, the are surface cleaners for the most part. Robert will dig in, but it's tough to get to that point.
It's also hard because Hank's kitchen is so poorly laid out. We have no room to work or store things and most of it ends up sitting on the counter. Hank is truly a confirmed bachelor. He uses what he needs and drops stuff all over the place. No amount of mopping will clean that ancient floor. Those not wearing shoes do so at their own risk. The cabinets have been painted about 50 times. They get scrubbed, but never look clean. Hank is talking about replacing them. He talks a lot. The wallpaper was put up in 1978 and has just been left to rot. If Hank ever hopes to get married, the he'll have to make an effort to fix that kitchen up. She may never cook in there, but she'll want it nice anyway.
The poor frig had been neglected. We didn't have to throw much food out, because I check it every day for that, but someone had spilled a chocolatey mess in ther and it had dizzled to the bottom. Bottles were stuck to the glass. I totally emptied the shelves, depending on Andrea and Robert to take out anything heavy or that needed two hands. Then the scrubbing started. Robert would take a chisel, but I just used hot water and soap. I wish I had gotten to it sooner. It was embarrassing. It's not even my frig, but after all, we live here.
Now that the refrigerator and kitchen are clean, I can sit down without guilt. My darling hubby is watching college football and I am at the computer, nearly my favorite place. I have many things to do today, including writing the weekly letter for the ministry. I'm just waiting for my friend to let me know what has happened there.
Hank took Andrea to the open market in town and there bought her a purple stuffed gorilla. He really spoils her. He's a good room-mate for us. We don't seem to get in his way and he loves having a clean house for the first time in years. At times I feel funny about living here because we should have a place of our own, but I guess it's all in God's timing. Venturais a pretty spendy place to live. We are on a fixed income. Rob needs to get counselling for his PTSD and we just have to stay put for a while. Tough for me. I'm a very independent sort. Guess I just need to stay flexible.
Well, off to fold laundry and figure out the rest of the day.
We just got back from Andrea's school meeting. She's doing so well and her advisor is pleased. Andrea started to do the word find while we were there and found every word. I am so proud!
I guess what happened at first was this: I never struggled in school. Nothing was hard for me. I was reading before kindergarten. So when I saw her struggling with what I thought were simple concepts, I was frustrated. None of my kids are average intelligence. They are all waay above the norm. This is not to say they all have what I call walking around smarts, but they are bright. Then came Andrea who struggles with everything. She is bi-lingual and can effectively translate for someone, so I just figured she'd also do well from the get-go when I started being her teacher.
Was I in for a surprise! I never took into consideration the fact that she was born prematurely in a country where moist preemies don't survive or that she was starved for the first 8 months of her life. These things affect learning on a grand scale. Now I'm not blaming myself, but I can see that I was expecting too much. When we dropped back to simpler things and she began to have success, we began to see a difference. There's so much for her to learn. Don't get me wrong, but Mexicans are not truly a literate people. Sentences never end, they use no capital letters, don't care how it's spelled and the hand-written word runs together in a very confusing way. I'm a stickler for grammatically correct phrases and good punctuation. That alone should stupify my 10 year-old Spanish-speaker. I just had to chill.
We both did. Andrea's first few weeks were tear-filled days full of frustration for both of us. Teachers in Mexico tend to call a kid "bad" if their work has mistakes. Truly great for the self-esteem. So everytime I pointed out a mistake or had her re-do something, she cried and asked, "Did I do bad?" Getting over this hump has been horrific. She just wants to be a good girl for us.
Andrea is a wonderful girl! She wants to hear the word good, but so many descriptives fit her. She is bright, pretty, full-of-fun, helpful, outgoing, friendly, slender, brave, determined . . .well, I could go on and on. I'm so glad I have this opportunity at this time in my life to raise another child. She's a great kid.
Just took a little trip down memory lane. A friend sent a link to me and unlike my normal, I decided to click on it: http://www.thestatenislandboys.com/U_thrill_me/index.htm
Wow! Did my past come up and hit me on the behind! I loved the music and the read. Thought you might too - especially if you yemember as much as I did.
This is it! If you haven't already done so - got VOTE! It is such a privilege to live in a country where you can be a part of your own future. The air that we breathe is different because we are free.
How important is that to you? Do you realize what a great country you live in? What's the best part for you?
The best part for me is that I'm free to take a stand - any stand - anytime. My voice can be heard. And for us here in the U.S.A., it's more than freedom; it's our right.
When is the last time you took a look at the Bill of Rights? Look at it again. http://www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/constitution.billofrights.html#amendmentx
There's not another the same anywhere. And it's ours.
What a country! What a time to live!
