Car "Tunes"

This is a big weekend for us. My daughter just gave birth to our newest grandchild! Zachary is beautiful...of course! But this post isn't about Zachary, as big as that is. That will come later.

This weekend is also the start of the NASCAR season, and that means the Daytona 500. For my daughter's family, that is VERY big. Dave is a lifelong NASCAR fan. His family will be at the big race tomorrow. We will all be watching here. Larry and I are also fans which is a good thing for me. My 4 year-old grandson, Nicholas, keeps me at the top of my game.

Nicholas has a rug race track and more NASCAR cars than I can count. He has the miniature (matchbox sized) cars for most of the drivers in the Sprint Cup and he knows them by driver, sponsor, or number. Each year, he has to update his collection to keep up with the drivers who have changed either teams (and therefore have a new number,) or sponsors (and therefore have a new color scheme). I explain this only to help you understand the complicated conversation that follows.

Today we were waiting for Jen, Dave and Zachary's homecoming from the hospital. While we waited, my responsibility was to help Nicholas prepare for today's Nationwide race (similar drivers, but different teams and therefore different numbers). He has had a busy couple of days, and today he rode his bicycle to the park. At lunch he looked tired.

Me: After lunch I want you to take a short rest in your room, before the race.
N:   I have to set up my cars first.
Me: You can do that after your race.
N:   No. They have to be ready when the race begins. Do you know the order?
Me: No, but when the race starts we can get the line-up and line up your cars then.
N:   NO! They have to be READY when the race starts. You have to go to the computer and print it out.
Me: Oh... OK.

I get my laptop out and look up the race. Meanwhile, Nicholas has to move his cars from the kitchen to the family room. I discover this means he has to put them in the truck hauler, and drive the hauler to the rug/race track. Once there, he proceeds to get all of his cars out. I check the list on the laptop and help him line them up.

Me: Danica has the pole.
N:   The 10?
Me: No, that's for tomorrow's race. She's driving the 7 today. (We continue through the line-up.)
Me: Dale Jr. is next. (Nicholas reaches for the 88.)
Me: Dale's driving the 5.
N:   Where's Kasey Kahne? 
             (Kasey drives the 5 in the Sprint Cup, but last year it was Mark Martin. Nicholas has already made the switch.   Isn't he only 4, I wonder?)
Me: Kasey Kahne is driving the 38 in this race.
N:  I don't have a 38. We'll use this car and just pretend. (He hands me the 17.)

And so it goes. Finally...

Me: Ok. They are all lined up. You go rest and I'll call you when the race starts.
N: Ok, but you have to sing the National Anthem because I don't know all the words.

RIGHT!

The race comes on. The announcers call the race as I watch the cars go around. I listen, but it's hard to hear what's going on. Instead I hear the race going on in the room. Nicholas moves his cars around his track. Some days he is the 'Spotter' on the roof talking to the driver.  "Green! Green! Green!" (meaning Go go go!) "Outside! Outside! Outside! Down low, down low stay low!" Nicholas warns the drivers of cars coming up to pass. He pushes his cars around the track....all 30+ of them....in groups, keeping up a running dialogue.

Today he isn't the spotter. He is the In-Car camera.

"Vrooooooooom........oooooooommmmm......ooooooommmm...."

Through the entire race.....

I'm glad I have aspirin. I feel a headache coming on.

A Flicker of Light

The seed for this blog post was planted on Christmas Eve. I realize we have just celebrated Valentine's Day, but seeds take a while to germinate.

One of my favorite parts of Christmas Eve is the Candlelight service. At the end of the service all the lights are dimmed. The candle is passed from person to person lighting their candles and gradually illuminating the room. At most of the churches I've been to the congregation sings "Silent Night". It is a beautiful, peaceful way to end a service.

In spite of the fact I've gone to these all my life, I think this year was the first time I really grasped the message. As a member of the choir, I get a birds eye view of the passing of the light. I watched as the light went down each row, illuminating each person's face. As it got to the back of the room the light reached into the darkest corners. How often have I noticed that one candle might not make much difference, but a whole church full of candles lights up a room? Well, this year, I saw it from a different perspective.

I am a volunteer. It is in my DNA. I like helping where needed. I don't want compensation. I just want to make a difference. Reality reminds me I am NOT Mother Theresa, neither by circumstance, nor by personality. I am just me.

I volunteer at the Center for Hope in Ambridge. I help there because I am so impressed by the heart and the organization of the Director, Sue Otto. She's not Mother Theresa either, but she is much closer than I will ever be. Her motto is "A hand up, not a hand out". Her method is to look closely at her clients and see what they need and then try to provide it. I go one day a month, because it is a bit of a drive for me. I help out in the Food Pantry on distribution day.

Too often, lately, I have found myself wondering if I do enough. Could I do more? Where? The questions nag at my conscience. Really, volunteering one morning a month is nothing in a world where the need is great. Does it make a difference?

Christmas Eve: the room is dark. One candle is lit. The face behind it lights up. Another candle is lit. Another face lights up. One candle, plus one candle, plus one candle..... the darkest corners are lit up.

I think of Sue. She runs a center that provides education for adults, cooking classes for teens, clothes closet for those in need, tax services, assistance with electric bills, after school activities for kids.... the list goes on. She has a handful of employees. How does she do it all?

With volunteers.

One at a time.

The Missions team at my church has an unofficial slogan: Small acts can make a big Impact. I've realized it is more than just a slogan.

I don't do much, but the truth is Sue couldn't do it without 'me' and the dozens of other "me's" that show up one day a month. I'm just a little flicker of light. But my flicker...with all those other flickers... really does light up the world.

Yoga: It's Not For Sissies!

 I love my yoga class...usually. It's a great way to start the day. The stretches feel wonderful. Most of the core strengthening is empowering. And at my age, working on that flexibility is a must. But sometimes it's just a joke.

YOGA INSTRUCTOR: Such a soothing voice... the music provides a quiet, rhythmic background...

"Cross your left leg behind your right leg... Slowly lower yourself to the ground with your left leg tucked under your body, bending your right leg... Inhale slowly ...as you wrap your left arm around your right leg and hug it to your body... Right hand on your back hip... Slowly twist to the right.  Exhale gently... Extend right arm behind you, palm up. ...."

Me: You had me at "hug it to your body".

YOGA INSTRUCTOR: Always spoken in such gentle, encouraging and hopeful tones...

"Sit in an upright position, extending both legs out in front of you... Arms raised, extend your body forward. Exhale... Left hand touches your toes, as you reach your right hand under across your body under your left, hand up. Pivot your body to the left...."

HUH???

Note to self: Never play twister with a Yoga Instructor!

Fasting--the Serious Side

In my last post, I made light of the 3-day fast I participated in. I focused on the misery of being denied a cup of tea. If that is truly the message I got, then it is evident I failed in learning anything, nor was I drawn closer to God.

Today, I'd like to take a moment to recognize a few points that fasting brought into view. One of the things I learned personally, is that I still spend a lot of time focused inwardly, on what I want, rather than on what I need. The weather was dismal. That much is true. It certainly influenced my mood. I had a headache for 2 days. That didn't help things, either. My husband is traveling right now. Combine those 3 things and you have the makings for self-pity. But the reality is that all of those things combined are still pretty superficial!

Hunger is a reality for many people, both in America and in Third World Countries. For them, my complaints wouldn't have registered on their radar screens even as a blip, let alone as something to avoid.

I volunteer at a local food pantry. Food is distributed once a month with the goal of providing an additional 15 meals (5 days) worth of food to families. "Beggars can't be choosers" may be a common expression, but it is a callous one. Humans, no matter the circumstances, still have preferences. Even in their needs, they have 'wants'. They, like me, want variety in their diet. Poverty does not change that. One woman who comes to our pantry complained one time that we always give her applesauce. "I have cans of applesauce! Why can't I have fruit cocktail?" she moaned. The reality is that food is distributed using the age old method of supply vs. demand. I had to explain to her that the fruit cocktail (which was limited in quantity) was for the large families who would receive one applesauce and one fruit cocktail. I tried to gently remind her that our food was just to extend her budget. Perhaps she could buy the fruit cocktail. I also tried to give her a new use for the applesauce. I told her that she could replace the applesauce for the oil called for in the muffin mix using up the applesauce and making it a healthier version. But the point is, no matter what our circumstance, we still desire variety and choice.

Take this thought one step further. If you were a refugee in an African camp and you received your daily ration of gruel don't you think at one point you would wish for just a minute you could have the meal you used to fix at home? I'm sure every refugee thinks that sometime, if not every day! The one thing I didn't struggle with, during my fast, was variety! I had lots of recipes to choose from, some that I prepare on a regular basis! I may have denied myself some foods, but I didn't suffer hunger pangs. And that's ok, because the Daniel Fast isn't about hunger, but about a healthy diet and allowing time to reflect on God's goodness and direction in my life.

I can't say fasting is a spiritual event for me. There are many other ways in which I draw closer to God. As I said, fasting just seems to turn me inward. But one thing I do think about, is how difficult it must be for so many of the world's people, whether they live in my town, or across the world in a dusty village. Even the deer in my neighborhood start to go after my holly and my neighbor's arborvitae mid-way through winter. After awhile, bark just doesn't cut it any more. (FYI--deer don't even like holly or arborvitae, according to the nursery tag on the bush).

Beggars can't be choosers. Maybe that's true. But it doesn't mean they don't have desires, longings, cravings.... simple wants. Beggars are humans after all, and we all have those. So perhaps, what my little fast did, was just to help me empathize more with those at the food pantry, and remind me once again, how truly blessed I really am.

My Cup of Tea

This has been a dreary week. The sky has been gray. It started out with snow on the ground, but then the rains came and now the ground is soggy. I haven't seen the sun in days. To cap it off, I haven't had a cup of REAL tea in 3 days!  Until this morning!


"Why?" you ask. Our church participates in a spiritual fast for several weeks in January. This is the first year I've tried it. Instead of doing it for the whole time, I settled on a 3-day fast. The kind of fast they do is called the Daniel Fast after the prophet Daniel. (The basis for it is told in Daniel 1) It is basically a strict vegan diet with some added restrictions, such as no processed foods, no sugar (honey is ok), no caffeine, herbal tea is ok. Except I really don't like herbal tea. I'm fine with de-caf tea, but I want my black, orange pekoe mix; the kind Tetley or Lipton specialize in. I'll have a couple of cups in the morning. And in the afternoon I treat myself to a good cup of Ty*phoo; a good British blend with all the caffeine I need for the day. When I'm on the road, there is always a large ice-tea in the cupholder.

I picked a really good time to deprive myself. Rain is such a mood killer and then add dietary restricions to it.... Well, it's not pretty! But the food wasn't the problem. There are plenty of good vegetarian recipes. What I really missed was my tea. As I write this I am sipping my first cup of the morning and its soo good.

I have never been one to fast. Let's put it this way. I have never been one to deprive myself of food. I'll control it, moderate it, but rarely forbid it. To do a real fast--the water-for-a-day type--is out of the question. In fact, when I read stories where people go for hours or days without food it really bothers me. The author might not mention food, but I'll be thinking about it! How did they cope?

Well, I didn't go without food. I was well nourished with healthy, good tasting food. But I did miss my tea. Right now, my kids are glad they weren't here to witness it. There are family stories about Mom without her tea. The 3 days are over. I'm going to go have my second cup. This afternoon I'll have my Ty*phoo. And I'm pretty sure I'll be swinging through McDonald's for a "large, unsweetened ice tea, please" when I run errands later today.

I did figure out one thing through this experience. I know one thing I won't be giving up for Lent! TEA!

RV Hunting

This past weekend Larry and I went to the Pittsburgh RV show. I've discovered even after 40 years of marriage, you can learn a lot about someone when retirement nears. Talk to anyone who has experienced the life changes that come with retirement and they will have lots of tales to share with you!

We are no different. I'm not worried about retirement. One thing I think makes the transition easier is if you both make a big change. As for us, we plan on moving to North Carolina which means that we will both be developing new daily routines and making new friends. HE won't be 'invading' MY territory, which seems to happen a lot. In fact, when my brother-in-law retired, my sister, who had been a housewife most of their married life made a conscious decision to retire as well. For her, that meant throwing out the To-Do list that said, "if it's Monday, it must be laundry day". Instead, each day was a new day to plan out and some days, they planned together. Other days they did their own thing. It was a smart plan.

North Carolina appeals to us because of the mountains, the seasons, but AND the short winter! Besides buying a mountain home, Larry also would like to buy a large 'home-away-from-home' style RV. I think I would like it as well. I've always imagined this as a possibility because Larry's favorite form of travel is driving.

The RV show was interesting, but we've found we don't need to go for long. We have narrowed our interests enough that we quickly identify the pros and cons of each one we look at. He looks at the bed size, the placement of the TV, the couch, the kitchen table, the construction, the driveability, and the size of the shower. I look at the kitchen, the storage, the size of the bathroom, the floor space, and the convenience or usability of the space.

I can tell Larry is really ready for retirement. He talks about it all the time. He spends most of his spare time searching on-line for the perfect house or the best RV layout. However, it seems that the closer to retirement he gets, the bigger the RVs that we are looking at. The houses in North Carolina that he eyes on the internet, seem to be getting bigger too. As for the RV, as long as it has the specifications that I want (workable kitchen, decent storage, bathroom big enough to shut the door when I'm in there) I don't care how big it is. I will learn how to drive it, but he will do most of the driving. I'm going to have to rein him in when it comes to the house! After all, even after he retires I'm pretty sure I know WHO will be cleaning it.

All this talk about retirement means it must be just around the corner, right? Not exactly. He still has 3 years to go. Could be the hardest part about retirement just may be waiting for it to arrive.

From "A Snowy Day" to a Colorado Pueblo

As a Children's Librarian, Ezra Jack Keats "A Snowy Day" was always one of my favorite winter books. It describes the delight and adventure of a snowfall from a child's point of view. It is as peaceful and quiet and sweet as the snow falling outside right now. Yesterday the neighborhood kids were outside sledding down snow covered hills and coming inside for hot chocolate.
Of course, as an adult, there is another side to a snowy day; driving on slick roads, walking through slushy parking lots, and of course, clearing the snow from the steps, driveway and sidewalk. Today, I'm the adult. And I was outside with other adults, all busy clearing snow. I'm not complaining. We've had a relatively light snowfall and it is a dry snow so clearing it isn't all that hard. However, underneath that light, dry snow it is slick. Somehow we managed to go from pouring rain to snow in a matter of an hour and the quickfreeze left the sidewalks icy under a cover of powder.

Over the years I've discovered there are different shoveling patterns for myself and my neighbors. Chuck is an early riser. I will never be able to wake up before he has his driveway, sidewalk, and steps shoveled and the salt sprinkled. While the rest of us play catch up all day, his place will remain clear of snow. Mike has been known to pull out the snowblower at night before going to bed in hopes that in the morning it will still be clear or at least he won't have as much to shovel. I, on the other hand, am usually the last one out. I don't have to go to work and I don't have to get kids off to school. So I generally make an appearance somewhere around 9:00AM as long as it looks like it has stopped snowing.

Today I was surprised to see I was the first one out. It is Saturday so it was obvious why the others weren't out yet, (although, it is rare that Chuck doesn't have his driveway done by 6:00AM). I was right on time; 9:00AM. I could have pulled the snowblower out, but if there isn't that much I prefer to do it by hand. I don't often get to walk on days like this because it is too slick underfoot, so the shoveling becomes my exercise. Mike and Chuck appeared shortly after.

As we worked I couldn't help notice that as the others worked, their lines looked so much neater than mine. The snow always spills out over the edge of my shovel leaving a nice little snow wall behind. Then I have to go back and clean up the little wall. I've tried different techniques, but I still get the line of snow edging where I just went, meaning each lane of snow I clear takes two swipes, not one. That doesn't seem to happen to them. Today there is one reason for this. Yesterday they were both out clearing the first covering that came along, so they were working with less to begin with. But just as the 'grass always seems greener'... to me, their snow always looks neater. It brought to mind those old Pueblo villages where each family built their own house. (Can you see how my mind rolls in circles as I do mindless tasks?)

If you go to visit Mesa Verde outside Durango, Colorado you can visit an old Pueblo village built in the Colorado cliffs. It is a fascinating place, but you will learn that they didn't have master builders. Each family built their own house. You can clearly see how some houses are beautifully built, and others clumsily put together. I'm pretty sure, if we were living in those times, Chuck's house would be perfectly put together before most of us began, and as the sun set I would be mixing the mud to hold my bricks together trying to copy his craftsmanship. I also know if we were to be transported back to that time that Mike and Chuck would come to my aid straightening my leaning walls. They do that now when we have a heavy snowfall. Come to my aid, that is. Good neighbors in any age are good to have. (An aside here: The pattern since we moved here was that if we got a good snowfall, Larry was always in Minneapolis. It has become my mantra. He is home now, but I see a heavy snow coming around the end of January.)

A postscript before I close. When I finished the top of the drive I noticed the bottom was covered in white. My hat was wet when I took it off. The snow had begun to fall again. But that's how we do it in Pittsburgh. A litttle snowfall each day. It might not keep the doctor away, but it does provide the exercise, and an optimum chance for the mind to roam.