Just for a bit...

I miss blogging, and I miss all the visits, but right now, I'm just in the midst of some busyness, and need to lay this aside if I want to do things like sleep. I'll prolly be back by Turkey Day, but if not, God bless you all, and, I'll be visiting and commenting as I can. xxxooo

LVCG's Carnival: If You Came To My House Today

If you came to my house today...A carnival hosted by La Vida Coffee Gal!

You'd see Annie, our welcoming committee. Murphy, the nearly teenaged Dachshund, has decided to defer salutatory greetings. At least most of the time, leaving all of the howdy-dos to Annie. This photo is how I would like you to see Annie when you come to the front door. Nice and calm. Sweetly in her crate. Well behaved. However, she sees any visitor's arrival as her gilded invitation to bolt out the door as fast as possible. She's a dog with a mission: She's got to get out quickly so she can run to the neighbor's house and eat as much cat s*** as she possibly can before I run out after her with treats and the (inane) offer of a car ride to get her to come home. Apparently cat excrement is THAT good. But let's move on.

You would then be greeted by a semi-cluttered kitchen and the offer of some coffee, tea or me, or a little snack. In an attempt to focus your attention from the dog hair on the floor and the cluttered counter tops, I would show you my first EVER avocado seed plant. Holla! Barb from A Chelsea Morning gave a tutorial on growing these last summer, I think, and I've tried forty-five different times, to no avail. Voila. As I write, the stem is now about 3 inches. Holla, again!

Now if I had advanced warning of at least 15 seconds, I might shut the door, so that you wouldn't be greeted by this: A washer and dryer. Actually, no...Just my daughter's sleeping bag and various and sundry items. You see, it's much easier to put the sleeping bag in the laundry room than to stuff it back into its bag. And yes, i see the clean sports bra hanging to dry on the door knob. Classy.

Lastly, you might see this creature. You might even hear the sound of its little voice, saying, "Gretchen...come back to me. Come back!"

And so I must get busy. Because if i have non-virtual company, I would like things to look at least a tiny bit nicer. Pull the dust wool ever so slightly over the eyes, so to speak.

I know...I'll light a candle. Nothing says tidy like a candle.

Thanks, Kellie. This was fun. Be sure and visit Kellie's site and the other carny folks' blogs today.

Two Much Goodness at Once

Welcome to GladiTuesday/November's Edition of 10 on the 10th. Thank you, Mer, once again for such a great bloggy idea. I thought I would do a 10 on the 10th GladiTuesday mash up because I like Glee, and because I just wanted to.

So here goes: My Top 10 Christmas Songs Which Make Me Glad (in no particular order)

1. Oh Holy Night: A friend of mine sings this at our church almost every year, and he does such an outstanding job. Part of it could be that he's just such a godly, incredible man. But he's got some pipes, too. Goosebumps. The song, itself is just amazing. Heart rending.
2. Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth: Bing Crosby and David Bowie. I first saw this on a Christmas special in 1977, I think, not long before Bing died. Thought it was great in 3rd grade, and lurve it muchly today.
3. Sleighride/Winter Wonderland: Dolly-medley style. (okay, that's 2 songs, but I'm counting them as one because it's my blog and i can. :))
4. I'll Be Home For Christmas: Bing Crosby
5. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas: Judy Garland
6. Hark the Herald Angels Sing: Peanuts Style.
7. Shine on Us: Michael W. Smith. We light our candles to this song each year at church, on Christmas Eve. Gorgeous, gorgeous song.
8. How Many Kings: Downhere. I adore this song, and am fortunate that my local radio station plays it fairly much year round.
9. Santa Baby: Eartha Kitt (because as good as we try to be...don't we all lurve presents??? Especially something from Tiffany?)
10. You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch: Thurl Ravenscroft

Runners up: Merry Christmas Darling (The Carpenters), and The Christmas Song (Nat King Cole)

And because I'm so gladdy about Christmas, I'll give you my top 5 must see specials:

1. A Charlie Brown Christmas
2. How the Grinch Stole Christmas
3. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (Burl Ives wins my heart every year)
4. It's a Wonderful Life
5. Love Actually (not really a special, but a great--if naughty--movie)

Favorite song or must-see for you?

Catching Up with Greth

You might be asking yourself, "So, Greth, you've caught us up on all your childhood lore, but what have you been up to lately?". To which I would answer (my dad's recurrent bad joke): "Oh, about 5'6".

Rimshot pls.

I'll be here all week.

I've been up to lots of things...mostly trying to wrap myself around the fact that Christmas will be here before we know it. That Thanksgiving is merely two shakes of a lamb's tail away, and I'm just now putting away my Halloween decorations. As in...just walked down out of the attic about 10 seconds ago. And don't worry. I put the flashlight away...just in case we lose power or have another one of these in our state.

Just an aside: We don't do severe thunderstorms and tornadoes in Seattle. Or in Western Washington. Ever. They just don't happen. Good thing I had my CO training for what to do (a.k.a. watch TV or try to watch the skies--never run for shelter). Earthquakes: check. Rain: double check. But even our rain is typically thunderless. Funnel clouds: nope.

I'm trying to wrap my mind around enjoying each holiday for all that it is, while not attaching baggage to what it "should be". Thanksgiving will be easier, since I'll be exhausted from our Christmas play rehearsal--I won't be able to stress much. And we'll be here...just our 4-pack, with any "orphans" from church who want to come and over-eat and play Wii.

But this will be our first Christmas away from our home in probably 7 or 8 years. We're going back because it's just time. Big and I have always said that Santa comes here. Period. Anyone is welcome to join in the reindeer games and stay, but after bumping along to 3 or 4 different homes on Christmas in our early marriage and feeling like there was no holiday in the holiday, we decided to stop that madness. However, folks do age, and Santa is still celebrated, but less anticipated, if you know what I mean. And travel around the holidays becomes less attractive to folks with mobility issues. Which means that other folks (meaning: our family) need to bend. Gosh, that's hard. I wish it weren't. I'll take easy bending for $200, Alex. I wish I was so involved in being Christ-like at Christmas that I didn't care about having the holiday here. In my house. My way. With our traditions. And on our schedule. Feels like a lot of "me", "my" and "our" there. Ouch. So, bend I will, Yoda. As will my fam. Especially my son, Rigid David, who, in no uncertain terms has let us know that he would prefer to be home for Christmas (again, and again, and again). BTW, if you think I'm mean for name-calling, I am. But we all joke about our collective family rigidity. The apple hasn't fallen far from the tree. But he takes after his father. Nonetheless, we all have to get over ourselves and grow up a bit.

If God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him would have eternal life, I can step up and give a holiday.

But only in His grace. Oh, how i need His grace.

Anyhoo...What've you been up to lately?

OH! I almost forgot. I'm also about 1/4 way thru my first knitting-in-the-round (also known as hell on earth because I don't have 4 hands) project. I know you were worried. I'll post pictures when I'm finished.

OH! I almost also forgot. I'm growing my first avocado from seed, and it's actually in a pot! Woo hoo. And why I care about this, I'll never know. I just do. Giddy, in fact. I feel like Tom Hanks' character in "Castaway" when he made fire.

Okay. That is all.

Betcha Didn't Know!

Well, I need to thank Miss Amber, because I haven't had a good excuse to talk about myself or state my opinion in at least 8 hours. And I needed more of me. Hoping you do, too. :)

We'll call this one the "Gretchen's Wacky Childhood" edition of Betcha Didn't Know (BDK):

BDK: That when I was 3 or 4 (the perfect age for the responsibilities of owning a pet) I had two little, sweet, mini turtles. One was Tommy and the other was Tessie. You probably also didn't know that I was a curious child, and an orally fixated one, as well. I wondered why Tommy's (or Tessie's, it doesn't matter now) head kept going in and out and in and out and in and out. And so I bit his little head off. Fortunately, my mother lived for at least 25 years after seeing his little body in one hand and his head in the other. The shock might've killed those of lesser stamina. Our conversation is emblazoned in my memory:

Mom: What are you doing, Gretchen? What do you have in your hand.

Me: I bit the head off the turtle, Mommy.

Mom: Don't be silly, Sweetie. That's Tommy (or Tessie) right there in your hand.

Me: (opening the other hand) See?

Mom: Horrification crosses her face, and she shouts for my father.

BDK: That when I was 10 or 11, I took an emory board and filed down my teeth. Suddenly I feel like whinnying or something. But I digress. Anyway...I didn't like the ridges on the bottom of my top incisors, nor the top of my bottom incisors, so I stood and filed away. Funny thing. I've now got horribly damaged teeth. They are weak and short, and last week, I was chastened for not wearing my bite guard b/c my teeth "are getting shorter by the minute". When I asked, "Well, do we need to lengthen them?" I was told that for the low, low price of 3 mortgage payments, I could have 4-6 new veneers. Sigh. And I must, must, must be compliant with a night guard with veneers, or I'll pop them off. Swell. So kids, to coin a phrase from a wise friend, today's Ranger Rick Safety Tip: Do Not File Your Teeth (you idiot children). Donations to the Gretchen Was Stupid When She Was 11, But She's Less Dim Now and Wants New Teeth will be accepted in any form. ;)

BDK: That I bit my nails incessantly until I was 19. I have no idea why i stopped. I shouldn't have, really, because they are much less caloric than anything else I could chew, and for the last 21 years, I haven't been able to grow my nails past the edge of my fingers, anyway.

BDK: That I am plugging away at the Bible, trying to finish every last word. Currently, I'm on Ezekiel. I haven't read it entirely in order, cover to cover, but for the most part, I'm trying to; however. Would like to say that I'm glad that God didn't choose me to be a prophet back then. Our God is so big, so mighty, and so sovereign. I'm delighted that I am rediscovering this with every word. And I'm also trying to let go of the guilt for not keeping up with this at an earlier time.

BDK: That if I wasn't an ex-speech therapist and SAHM, I'd be a neurologist or a Broadway stage wannabe. Or...a quilt store owner.

GladiTuesday

Howdy! I always look forward to Tuesdays...seems sometimes they are the only day which has me blogging. Trying to find that balance between saying something meaningful on some level (even if that level is silly and goofy) and just writing to write so I'll receive some comments. I don't believe anyone who says they don't write, at least in some small part, to receive comments. :) With that weird intro, I'll get on to my gladdies of the week.

As I've written today's post, it's gotten so long that I'll just stop at one gladdy. It has to do with my daughter.

I am glad for a pillow talk routine my daughter and I can both live with. I know I ended that sentence incorrectly for writing. But it's okay for the way I talk. And since we're all just chatting here...Oh? The point? The point is, I am not a night owl. And for years, I've lived by the axiom that by 7:30, all children should be put away for the evenings, so that parenting can commence in the morning. However, now that my children are older, I blame well meaning folks, like my church, for having activities beyond that hour of the evening. By 10 pm, I turn into a pumpkin, and my daughter doesn't realize this. She wants to talk and talk and talk and talk at our tuck in time, and I have found myself resentful and doing things like praying fast, kissing her and running out the door because I want to get to bed. Mature, huh? And selfless, too.

The trouble is. I know this is wrong. I know that even though she has numerous opportunities to chat with me during the after school ride home--we are usually 1:1--and the early evening. This simply isn't enough for her right now. She needs more. And I need to meet those needs, but also have some boundaries (Oh, just as a parenthetical aside, boundaries are relatively new to me--I've just learned about them in the last 5 years, so I'm not an expert--thank God for Cloud and Townsend) for myself so that I don't feel resentful.

I know you're dying to know what we did to resolve this situation. And so far, it IS working beautifully, if I say so myself.

I finally asked my dtr to help me help her. We prayed. And then, I asked her to forgive me for my bolting behaviors, and to help me come up with something that we could both live with at bed time. I told her that I loved her so much, but that by 9:00 I had a hard time wanting to be a patient listener, simply because my day was so close to being over, and my ears and body were tired. I also told her that I wanted to hear all that was on her heart because I remember what it felt like to be a middle schooler. Thankfully, she's a forgiving daughter (in between being 11 and all), and quite smart, so this plan is mainly hers. I agreed to it, and bedtimes are still a longer process than I'd prefer, but much more "reasonable". She gets heard, and I get to go to bed.

Our plan is simple: I to come into her room, and rather than starting to pray and tuck right away, I'm to ask if there's anything on her mind and give adequate pause time for her response. No toe tapping or clock watching allowed. Then, after she has shared, and I have listened, we can tuck in and pray. If she says, "Hey Mom..." as I leave the room, I have the freedom to say, "Unless it's an emergency, you'll have to wait until the morning, Sweetie.".

So that's what I'm glad about today. In case you were wondering. ;)

Cliche: "It goes so fast". Truth: "It goes so fast".

David 1st grade. Jenny Pre-K.I've been looking through a lot of old memorabilia lately, as I try to clean and organize all our pictures and junk that needs to be scrapped (in a book), or s.c.r.a.p.p.e.d (into the trash). I know I have many parenting years ahead of me. Possibly the hardest? Who knows? Those sleepless infant nights were no picnic. And I'm sure the sleepless "he's got the car tonight" nights will also be hard. But the in-between times. Those times between correcting, rebuking, and all the "chore" parts--priceless. Times like:

• pumpkin carving
• watching TV shows together in our big blue bed (yes, at 11 and 13, we still call it this)
• listening to stories as mom reads aloud
• listening as a disappointed 11 year old girl pours out her heart about the trials of middle school
• listening to an elated 11 year old girl's stories of faith and fun as we drive home from camp
• listening (in the van, again) and discussing bass line rhythms in music with my teenage son
• watching my husband speak ever so gently to my kids when I can't seem to find my nice words
• praying over each kid as they head out of the van and into school--that they be salt and light and Jesus in skin. That they be safe and bless others and what He would have them learn
• eating our Friday night pizza together (and anything else--especially brownies, cookies, donuts, etc).
• going to the gym and working out with my son--who does his best, even though it's hard to make his body go exactly how and where he wants it to go.
• appreciating my daughter's most excellent effort at math--a subject that really should not be included in heaven. Just sayin.
• wondering...just where in the world all the time has gone.

And I'm finding...even those hard times. The correcting and rebuking and dealing with eye-rolling times? They go fast, too. Note to self: Praise loudly, and blame softly.