Silver Lining

On a mission, to complete my grocery shopping alone, I was diligently checking off my list with only a few more items ago when I came around the corner to the dairy department for milk. Ahead were two ladies whose pace was significantly slower than mine, so I slowed to a halt and paused.

As I did, I watched one lady gently reach out and wrap her arm around her friend's shoulders and hug her. For a moment the two gray heads came together, as the warm gesture was accepted. My heart immediately warmed too, as I saw a level of friendship that transcended words. Cautiously, they began pushing their carts ahead together...slowly...talking...oblivious to the world around them. I sensed loss and struggles in their lives, but they were persevering with grace and courage...quietly.

That is when a woman in a striking black suit came screeching around the corner and halted impatiently. She didn't say anthing, but her body language told me she was important and that she had a schedule to keep. She didn't make eye contact as she pushed ahead, though she tried to navigate around the two elderly women as politely as she possibly could.

My heart paused again. It is so easy to think that we are the first to live life to the fullest and without us the world may stop turning. Life is short, we must not let anyone stand in our way...but when we are old and gray will we have a friend to walk beside? To share a gentle squeeze of encouragement as life changes again?

I would have loved to been invited to tea by these two women to glimpse at the wisdom they have gained through living. It is funny to think that I need to slow down to live...truly live...to drink in what life has to offer...outside careers and material goods.

My heart needed that gentle squeeze to remind me to slow down. As I moved ahead, more slowly this time, I watched two smiles emerge from soft,supple faces previously hidden to me. The silver hair accentuated the shining eyes emulating the beauty within. I smiled to myself as my heart felt the warmth of their friendship as they headed down the aisle together. As I watched,I realized they had shared a precious gift...a fingerprint.

Leaves

Autumn foliage falling down, falling down, falling down.

Autumn foliage falling down, my fair season...

Now, I spy with my little eye...something green!


Yep! A yard buried deep beneath the falling, falling, falling leaves.

My favorite colorful little leaves are creating a new flurry of activity in the neighborhood. Yards are bustling with activity. Raking is one option. A leaf blower (more prized than a snow blower here) is another. However, the options are endless, as tonight I watched a bobcat push the leaves into a pile.

Regardless of the method, all of these leaves end up piled along the curb awaiting the arrival of the township dump truck which traverses the neighborhoods. This truck is designed with a giant vacuum hose which sucks up all the leaves into the dump truck box. It is fascinating for me to watch the men at work. A giant vacuum cleaner depositing leaves into a truck that I thought was designed for snow removal...silly me! Then the truck hauls the leaves off to the compost piles which are ready for use in the spring by people who live in the township.

No bags necessary. Evidently, they clutter up the landfills. Well, honestly, the bags of leaves would probably completely fill the landfill. Nonetheless, this process entertains me, as in Big Timber, MT the leaves blew away months ago.

However, on Monday morning (no school) I was fully entertained as I gazed out my window into the cul de sac after my son, Kade, had exited the house in his roller blades. The leaves which covered the road were now being pushed around with a rake as he zipped around proficiently.

Very clever of him. Of course, the purpose of the leaf removal was to create space for street hockey. Nonetheless, I was impressed with his creativity.

Later in the afternoon, Kade headed over to rake for the neighbor across the street. Mr. Lesser injured his back a few years ago, and he is a neighborhood favorite with the kids, as he always takes the time to talk to them, and he even lets them play football in his front yard. Anyway, Kade decided to tackle his yard and I gave him my blessing. Of course when I went to the window this time, I had to smile...

"Hi" was meticulously formed with neat piles of leaves. Grinning, I told Kade his message was backwards. Without missing a beat, he quipped, "No, it isn't Mom. Mr. Lesser can read it perfectly from his window."

The Date

Dates are rare in my world, so date night is a special occasion...especially when we are meeting Ron's boss and his wife for dinner.

Did I mention that preparation for this would require more shopping? Did I also mention that as I was leaving the house to head to the mall my cell phone rang...and it was my trusty husband checking on me?? How did he know his money was leaving the house? Nonetheless, he gave me his blessings (only because he was grateful he didn't have to go too...)

Off to the mall I headed, after touching base with my sister for suggestions. She suggested a sweater dress and boots, which is a bit intimidating at 39, but I decided to give it a try since I already own an adorable pair of boots. First stop, I tried on a mere twelve dresses, of which three might work. Then I headed off again...for at least another 20 try-ons at various stops. Nothing spectacular. Discouraged, I focused on accessory shopping. I have impeccable taste for accessories...if it is ridiculously expensive, I will like it. Finally, I headed back to where I started and selected one dress. Without accessories, I head home.

Later that evening (after I was finished running kids), I tried on my new dress with my brown boots. I was soooo disappointed. The boots were not as chocolate brown as I remembered, but instead they were a rosy brown, and they did NOT match. I tried a couple combos to no avail.

Frustrated I start pilfering through my closet. I try every combination possible. I literally pull all of my clothes out and try them on. Now, I forgot to mention that I have been working very hard for the past six months to modify my eating habits and increase my exercise. Counting all those calories has really paid off, and I have lost over 20 pounds, but I would like to lose a few more...well five to be specific; however, the process has slowed significantly, but I am persevering. Anyway, while I am excited that I have managed to lose weight, it has created another wardrobe crisis because nothing fits. No, I am not exaggerating.

Now, I realize that this is an opportunity to buy a whole new wardrobe...and shop...but it is more difficult than one realizes. Shopping is a lot of work. Especially if I have nothing to build off at home. Where do I start? Plus date night is tomorrow, and I officially have nothing to wear. Ron says I have 20 hours to figure it out.

Sleeping isn't even a reprieve, as I have nightmares about my clothes on date night. Really? I don't have time for nonsense at night. My sleep is a precious commodity that no one messes with! Annoyed, I face another day. This was supposed to fun...a special treat...a new dress...smiles...an evening with my husband.

Anyway, I send all the kids off to school. My Yukon is scheduled for inspection, and I spend the morning with Ron at Home Depot in search of bathroom details for the new remodel project...sadly, it isn't limited to my closet. With hardyboard, screws, 2 x 4's, and a light fixture, we head home. I have decided on tile, though. This makes my husband happy. However, I still don't have a dress.

Home again. I exercise while I wait for the call on my Yukon. My frustration pays off here. I manage to hit the four mile mark in thirty minutes on my elliptical for the first time!!

Still no vehicle. I call. They just finished, and I can come get it. Ron grabs the keys and drops me off wishing me luck...again. I notice he leaves with Chayse quickly. I am sure it is a precautionary measure. His willingness to manage the house and kids is motivated by avoidance of shopping...outside Home Depot.

As I head to the mall again, I detour instead to a local shopping center. Desperation requires variety. I begin my search grabbing anything that looks like it has potential...and might fit. Nine dresses later, I head to the dressing room again. I can only try on eight at a time, so I take the one I like the least and save it for later. Do they realize that I am on a mission here with only a few hours to spare? Oh well, I don't have time to quibble. I reluctantly, but quickly begin the process again. Pessimistically. Dress one...okay. Dress two...not flattering for my post-child figure. Dress three...is this a size three?? Dress four...too big. Dress five...jackpot! Hit...Again! And...Again! Bring on the lottery tickets! Shock requires me try them on again. Did I miss anything? Are they really suitable? Do I still like them? I think a smile crept across my face here...I have choices!

I exit the dressing room with no intention of returning. However, I must have accessories. I try on every single pair of black boots. My calves that powered four miles this morning are much too large for tall boots. For any boots. Nevermind. I am going to find the jewelry. Hummm. Nothing here. Well, I have more stores to go. I am not going to lose my momentum. At least I have dresses. I buy all three. I will bring back the ones I can't accessorize later.

Next store. I find great necklaces. One turquoise and copper for the sweater dress. AND it is on sale! As I head to the men's department to find my husband the scarf he requested, I power through the shoes. I pause once at a pair of black boots that catches my eye with the unique textures it sports. As I pick it up I realize that it has a spandex back! JACKPOT, again! I slip it on, and in amazement, I gaze in wonder at the boot on my leg. It fits. It really, really fits!

Without hesitation and sporting a big smile, I grab the box and head to the men's department. Scarf found. Checkout next. Ohhh...jewelry clearance. Pause. Cute silver and black, chunky necklace for black dress. Must have. On to checkout. Out the door. Cell phone rings. "Honey, how is it going?" This is code for.."You are running out of time, come home."

Enthusiastically, I babble on. The other end is quiet. Very quiet. Dollar signs are registering, I am sure. I assure him I will be home soon...though, notice, I did not reassure him I did not spend too much...

Home again. Now I really have choices. I begin trying every outfit on. I have three complete choices. My daughters join the ranks. Kiahra sends photos to Aunt Kristi for additional feedback. Ron narrows the choice for tonight by two. The girls vote black. Kristi tosses in her vote for black too. Black it is. Now I can get ready with 45 minutes to spare...well, not spare exactly, but no problem, now!

Whew. I did it. Smiling. Pa Kettle is still grimacing at the light pocketbook. Really, don't you think he should be smiling too? Without all that extra weight?

Shopping

I went to the mall in search of necessities...but look at what enticed me away from my mission on the coat rack at Macy's! As I slipped it on...I fell in love. I was like a little girl in a candy store who had discovered her favorite candy...in her favorite color!

Check out the chic style...not to mention the fit! I haven't found a coat in years that actually fits comfortably in all the right places!




Of course, my daughter added her perspective...unadulterated preteen viewpoint.



And in the end, I still love it!




Now, I need somewhere to go beyond soccer games, the library, preschool... Though I could step up my bus stop attire...Nawww...I like my rumpled look. It keeps suburbia interesting. They need this country girl in her t-shirt and jeans ready to finish the day's chores. Gasp! I just admitted I do my own cleaning! Yep...and I love to dress up, but not to scrub the bathroom or go to soccer practice sporting my latest desinger trends for assessment of my social status.

Cynical...hhuuuummmmm...perhaps...

However, I must acknowledge the fine photographer who helped me recreate my shopping extravaganza!




Kiahra's spunky style matches her personality. Isn't she beautiful? I love her...and her mommy I will always be!

Breathtaking

From my back deck, I gaze out into my woods, and the majestic beauty of Pennsylvanian autumn takes my breath away. My eyes drink in the diverse color and rich textures of leaves after our first frost. The vibrancy of fall renews my spirit. It flutters in the gentle breeze of the crisp, cool morning. Each day is a surprise.

Autumn is a season of change. Sometimes folks express their discontent with fall as everything begins to die, but I disagree. It is certainly a change, but before those leaves fall they go out in a blaze of glory. I hope I can live life with such vibrancy. After birth and growth, each leaf finds its own personality and transforms itself into bold beauty. Each leaf is unique. As I gaze at them I can see the personalities of my children. I hope they dance with courage on the limb in breathtaking beauty.

Speaking of dancing on the limb, Nikela gracefully navigated her soccer game on Sunday against the autumn backdrop. As I watch her play soccer, I not only see her skill, but the beauty surrounding her...inside and out. We share the magical the moments of love and laughter with her as treasures, drawing them close to our hearts like a blanket on a cool evening. Whether it is a clumsy mishap or mastery of a challenging musical piece, it evokes love and celebration of life.

I love to watch the leaves fall from the limbs into the yard...sometimes creating a circle beneath the tree. As the leaves drift down into the street, I feel like I am in a parade celebrating life lived to the fullest. Kade loves the leaves. He loves to pile them high and jump into them. He buries himself in them. I like to think he is snuggling in surrounded with love. My heart flutters at the sight. I want to hold onto this image forever.

As I gaze out the window,

I reflect on my nostalgia for the season this year, as Ron prepares to celebrate his 40th birthday next month. Just a few years ago we were in our early twenties :) full of life, hope, optomism...and the rashness of youth trying to flutter ahead in the breeze of life. Soon we rolled into thirty and paused a bit more often...and knew less. Now as we gaze at forty, we are humbled by life and enjoy the precious moments with our family realizing that somehow twenty years have escaped us, and while we have trod the path of life with zest and love looking ahead to the future, we now continue down the path more apt to enjoy the scenery and vibrancy of life rather than straining to see down the road.

Note: For visual eye candy double click on the photos.

Renaissance

Ich was in one sumere dale;
In one swithe dighele hale
I-herde ich holde grete tale
An ule and one nightingale.

The poetic debate of The Owl and the Nightingale is my favorite Middle English piece. When I uncovered middle English poetry, I was fulfilling a convenient scheduling credit, but I fell in love. The intellectual renaissance of the twelfth century intrigued me as the owl and nightingale debate their philosophies of life...inconclusively.

Renaissance–noun 1. the activity, spirit, or time of the great revival of art, literature, and learning in Europe beginning in the 14th century and extending to the 17th century, marking the transition from the medieval to the modern world.

Thus, when the local Renaissance Festival came to life, I dragged the kids and husband through the woods and mud to the village.

From the modern world we travelled back...smiling!

The blare of horns heralded our entry into the renaissance era.

Royalty comes and goes, but the kids affectionately tagged this gentleman the "troll," as his character and personality demanded notice in the streets he traversed.


Chayse was grinning as happily as the street performer, as she attempted to learn the art that looked so easy!


Of course, weary travelers must pause in the village square to enjoy authentic cuisine...Chicken on a Stick!

Exploring the fashion for the era with guidance from a Cavalier, I was mindful of my humble place.

Finishing touches!

Just in time for the Queen's arrival...

Setting sail requires some rope work and team work!

Skillful archers prepare to join Robin Hood.

The king rests with his little Princess.


The world of Shakespeare and Chaucer came alive in all the characters we met. The wenches at the well (follow the link) had to be related to the Wife of Bath. Though Kade commented that while all the performers were funny, they were not always appropriate...which led me to explain the humor of the time was often "bawdy," which required additional explanation, and the best I could come up with was humor about the body.

The jester is so familiar in each Shakespearian work, and he was equally important in the village to keep us laughing at ourselves!

Fare thee well.

Playdate

This fall, Chayse enthusiastically hops out of the car to preschool four days a week. Last Friday, her preschool class washed the local fire truck. Parents were invited to meet each other and take photos of the special occasion. I joined the party a bit late, as I had to run an errand.

As I snapped a couple photos of the preschoolers in front of the fire truck, I was surrounded by other parents. I was one of a few that did not have additional children in tow. Chayse greeted me with a hug and immediately introduced me to her friend, Paulina. She was a beautiful little girl with dark hair and eyes just like Chayse. A few minutes later, her parents introduced themselves to me. As we navigated the initial awkward conversation of getting to know each other, gradually our speech became more natural as we followed the kids to the playground to watch. I felt myself smiling and laughing. Despite my reluctance to join the party, I was enjoying myself.

I discovered that my new friend also had a younger son at home. Then she asked, “Do you have other children?”

“Yes.” I responded with caution. I am very aware that I have more children than most mothers here and sometimes the response can be unpredictable.

“How old?” she persists with care.

I like that.

“13, 11, 9, and 8.” I rattle off, as I watch her face. She processes this information slowly as her eyes grow wider.

“Wow. You are a busy Mom.”

Fair answer. Sensing my reservations in discussing the rest of the gang, as I know this will not help us reach a common ground, she did not pressure the topic, and we shifted back to comments about preschool.

Then she proclaimed to a passing mother that her husband had managed to snap 350 photos today. I tried not to smile. Yes, he was the father documenting the journey of his oldest daughter, age 4. Of course, guilt pulsated through my heart as I thought of the five or six shots I had captured; however, at my rate, I won’t need to add memory to my computer anytime soon.

Finally, as the day wrapped up Paulina’s mother suggested a play date. When I inquired about her work schedule, I learned she was working five days a week.

“However, I am home by five, so we could meet before dinner from five to six,” she continued.

My mind scrambles through the afterschool hours. Yesterday afternoon I picked Chayse up from preschool at 3 PM. I arrived back home minutes before Kiahra walked through the door at 3:15. Nikela was already walking to her piano lesson. Kiahra needed her pointe shoe ribbons sewn on before ballet, again, so she grabbed a snack and dressed for dance while I found my needle and thread. Together we rush out the door to dance 30 minutes later. As I drove home, Kade and Ethan were walking home. When I arrive at 4:15 PM, Kade’s guitar teacher is walking through the door. As Kade takes his lesson, Nikela arrived home and I throw dinner on the stove. Reminding Nikela that she has soccer at 6 PM and we need to leave at 5:40 PM, I quickly set the table, minimally. In the meantime, I am calling Ron hoping and praying that he can pick up Kiahra at 6 PM, as it conflicts with soccer delivery…or I will be late picking her up. Then I can turn around and pick Nikela up shortly after 7 PM and be home by 7:30. Did I forget to mention homework?

I didn’t say a word, but evidently the expression on my face showed concern because she continued.

“We could also meet on Saturday morning or Sunday afternoon.”

Kade plays soccer in McCandless tomorrow morning, and Nikela will be playing in Pine Richland Sunday afternoon.

I am speechless. It is hopeless. As I gaze at Chayse, happily playing, the guilt completely engulfs me. I cannot even schedule a playdate.

As I drive home, Chayse animatedly shares the details of her day with me. As she comes up for air, she asks, “Will I be able to play with Paulina someday?”

My heart stops. What do I say? I don’t want to be dishonest. I don’t want to disappoint.

“Perhaps someday…” I hesitantly answer.

“Are Nikela and Kiahra home yet, Mom?”

“No, they won’t be home until this afternoon.”

“Can we go to lunch instead?”

Chayse has moved on. Later, when the kids start coming home and spilling out the doors of the neighborhood houses, she disappears into the cul de sac amidst the voices and activity. I hear her laughter. It rings sweetly through the hills. I smile. She has a playdate everyday. More kids, more fun. It’s my motto.

No scheduled playdate. Just spontaneous fun.

Chayse will survive. She may even conquer, as I watch her boss the neighbor boy into compliance before they roar off on their matching motorcycles.


Hhhhhuuuummmmmm...I can't find the firetruck photos to post. I think I left my memory card in the computer when I grabbed my camera, so no photos. Mom of the year? Perhaps not, but I think someone has one or two to spare.