I AM A SELFISH WOMAN. There, I’ve said it.
I do better if I have 45 minutes in the morning to wash my hair, apply camouflage mineral make-up, have one cup of good coffee and say a quick prayer to the Lord. I am darn ugly if I don’t have this time to myself. Even if I have seven hours of sleep I still need a little time to myself in the morning. It sets the tone for the day.
I also need a little time to myself in the afternoon. Maybe a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream, a current issue of Writer’s Digest and country music low on the radio.
I also need a little time to myself in the evening. Perhaps one hour of a favorite reality TV show, perhaps one hour reading People Magazine cover-to-cover, and a hot bath full of perky bubbles.
I also need a little time to myself right before bed. Time to scrub my face, time to apply any number of magic moisturizers, and put a dab of Vaseline on my old lady upper lip (having just shaved it.)
SELFISH AM I – but honest too. I’m a better person with just a little time to myself. Am I the only one who requires time alone? I think not.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Baby, Take a Bow
Volume I of my diary-style memoir is entitled "I'm Tired and I'm Wearing Yesterday's Mascara." I write stories for little kids too and have incorporated an eyebrow pencil in each essay. I sent drafts to a couple of published authors that are BIG in the industry and they all replied that my stories reminded them of the popular Junie B. books found at your local Target store. WOW, I found their comments to be very flattering! Perhaps I'm going in the right direction.
STORY A:
I take tap and I love my leotard. Mostly, I love the shoes with square taps. My Mom lets me practice on the porch. I watch cars go down the street and they see me do shuffle, ball, change, and kick. There are report cards at my dance school. Each time my Mom brings me I get a star! If I do well at the nighttime recital I may get a gold star. My teacher is Mrs. Appelt and she gives me a small brown cup to take home. Dad said it’s called a “trophy” because I never miss a day of tap dancing. I would like to practice in our kitchen, but Mom tells me my shoes will scratch the floor. I’d rather not practice on the back porch because there’s nothing to look at. I have a lot of friends in dance class. Mostly we’re girls with big hair and small shoes. There’s one boy called Donnie and his freckles are cute. (I used Mom’s eyebrow stick to put freckles on my face, but she didn’t laugh). Some of the girls tease Donnie, but not Mrs. Appelt. She claps for him, and for me too.
Lesson for Today:
Don’t fall down on your porch when cars are looking, and boys can tap like angels if you only give them a chance.
STORY B:
Dad and Mom took me to a park that had rides. My little brother came too, and we had a pillow fight in the back seat of the car. The park had sky baskets; a castle, a submarine, a train and hats with animal ears. Gerald wanted to see the pirate ship, but Mom said he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. My brother told me he would use Mom’s eyebrow stick to draw a beard on his face. I wonder if she’ll laugh? I saw people of many colors: black, brown and white. Some children had pretty eyes that looked like a half moon. Other kids had their hair braided close to their heads. There were cars that my Dad could drive with me and there were two steering wheels. We raced slow…then fast…and bumped into Mom and Gerald in their car. When I got out, my shoe came off. I shouted to the garage man, “I lost my shoe.” He got it for me and then other people stepped into our car.
Lesson for Today:
Smile at God’s children, and wear tight shoes if you’re going to a magic castle.
STORY C:
I have an aunt named Janice. She looks like my Mom but taller. I see her at the family meals where you’ll find a stuffed turkey in our oven and pies on the counter. She’s a teacher, and when she was young she marched in a band with a baton. I know she’s very smart, but she doesn’t wear glasses. Aunt Janice laughs a lot and tells me books are her friends. I have books that lay on my dresser. Sometimes I read them, and if I’m tired I’ll look at the pictures. My aunt says books will help me learn colors, numbers and my A,B,C’s. Next to my bed is a tiny house that my aunt made out of construction paper. It has a flat roof and rooms inside. Mine is pink and brother’s house is green. I took Mom’s eyebrow stick and drew a door, windows, and chimney. My favorite thing is the hula skirt my aunt made out of bed sheets. I swing my hips and move my hands like ocean waves. I cannot wear my hula skirt and tap dance shoes at the same time.
Lesson for Today:
Ladies can be schoolteachers, and you must always wear shorts under a hula skirt.
STORY D:
On Easter Sunday my Mom put me in a dress with stiff ruffles. I have a new pair of shoes that Dad calls Mary Janes, but I’ve never met her. They are white in color and look nice with pretty socks. I also have a purse that looks like an ice cream cone. Inside there’s a charm I got out of the gum machine, a quarter that fell out of Dad’s pocket, plus a handkerchief to wipe my shoes. Gerald and I put carrots on a plate for the Easter Bunny. The next morning there were two tall baskets on our porch! Toys, candy, puzzles, crayons and a small book were inside. The best part was the egg hunt. Some had funny faces like the Easter Bunny used Mom’s eyebrow stick to draw big eyes and whiskers. The eggs were hidden in the garden, in the dog’s bed, and next to the palm tree by the pool.
Lesson for Today:
Thank the Bunny for the gifts, and don’t drop an egg into the pool in the month of April.
STORY A:
I take tap and I love my leotard. Mostly, I love the shoes with square taps. My Mom lets me practice on the porch. I watch cars go down the street and they see me do shuffle, ball, change, and kick. There are report cards at my dance school. Each time my Mom brings me I get a star! If I do well at the nighttime recital I may get a gold star. My teacher is Mrs. Appelt and she gives me a small brown cup to take home. Dad said it’s called a “trophy” because I never miss a day of tap dancing. I would like to practice in our kitchen, but Mom tells me my shoes will scratch the floor. I’d rather not practice on the back porch because there’s nothing to look at. I have a lot of friends in dance class. Mostly we’re girls with big hair and small shoes. There’s one boy called Donnie and his freckles are cute. (I used Mom’s eyebrow stick to put freckles on my face, but she didn’t laugh). Some of the girls tease Donnie, but not Mrs. Appelt. She claps for him, and for me too.
Lesson for Today:
Don’t fall down on your porch when cars are looking, and boys can tap like angels if you only give them a chance.
STORY B:
Dad and Mom took me to a park that had rides. My little brother came too, and we had a pillow fight in the back seat of the car. The park had sky baskets; a castle, a submarine, a train and hats with animal ears. Gerald wanted to see the pirate ship, but Mom said he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. My brother told me he would use Mom’s eyebrow stick to draw a beard on his face. I wonder if she’ll laugh? I saw people of many colors: black, brown and white. Some children had pretty eyes that looked like a half moon. Other kids had their hair braided close to their heads. There were cars that my Dad could drive with me and there were two steering wheels. We raced slow…then fast…and bumped into Mom and Gerald in their car. When I got out, my shoe came off. I shouted to the garage man, “I lost my shoe.” He got it for me and then other people stepped into our car.
Lesson for Today:
Smile at God’s children, and wear tight shoes if you’re going to a magic castle.
STORY C:
I have an aunt named Janice. She looks like my Mom but taller. I see her at the family meals where you’ll find a stuffed turkey in our oven and pies on the counter. She’s a teacher, and when she was young she marched in a band with a baton. I know she’s very smart, but she doesn’t wear glasses. Aunt Janice laughs a lot and tells me books are her friends. I have books that lay on my dresser. Sometimes I read them, and if I’m tired I’ll look at the pictures. My aunt says books will help me learn colors, numbers and my A,B,C’s. Next to my bed is a tiny house that my aunt made out of construction paper. It has a flat roof and rooms inside. Mine is pink and brother’s house is green. I took Mom’s eyebrow stick and drew a door, windows, and chimney. My favorite thing is the hula skirt my aunt made out of bed sheets. I swing my hips and move my hands like ocean waves. I cannot wear my hula skirt and tap dance shoes at the same time.
Lesson for Today:
Ladies can be schoolteachers, and you must always wear shorts under a hula skirt.
STORY D:
On Easter Sunday my Mom put me in a dress with stiff ruffles. I have a new pair of shoes that Dad calls Mary Janes, but I’ve never met her. They are white in color and look nice with pretty socks. I also have a purse that looks like an ice cream cone. Inside there’s a charm I got out of the gum machine, a quarter that fell out of Dad’s pocket, plus a handkerchief to wipe my shoes. Gerald and I put carrots on a plate for the Easter Bunny. The next morning there were two tall baskets on our porch! Toys, candy, puzzles, crayons and a small book were inside. The best part was the egg hunt. Some had funny faces like the Easter Bunny used Mom’s eyebrow stick to draw big eyes and whiskers. The eggs were hidden in the garden, in the dog’s bed, and next to the palm tree by the pool.
Lesson for Today:
Thank the Bunny for the gifts, and don’t drop an egg into the pool in the month of April.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
GOOD FOOD, GREAT MEMORIES
When I was growing up I wasn’t required to spend time in the kitchen. My mom did the cooking and if memory serves me correctly, my dad did the clean up. During the holidays it might be my Grandma in the kitchen helping my mother mash potatoes, make gravy, prepare dinner rolls from scratch, and slice the pies and homemade fudge.
The noise of pots and pans, the scream of the garbage disposal, the smell of the turkey. The windows would drip with evaporation as the eggnog warmed on the stove waiting for its splash of whiskey. I listened to the women-folk gossip and was vaguely aware of the football game in the background. I no longer live close enough to mom for her holiday dinners, and Grandma passed on one week after celebrating her 100th birthday. YOU GO GIRL.
I don’t need people in order to have a party. I just need a good stiff drink and a Snack Tray...although the dog is good company. I'm not referring to a sandwich platter at the local Subway, or a variety of appetizers from the T.G.I.F. frozen food line. A Snack Tray utilizes whatever you have in your refrigerator and pantry!
I purposely do not shop for this delightful selfish treat. I pull out Ritz Crackers; light cream cheese; black olives. I then make canapés for myself and Shania K.(my dog). On another occasion, out comes the box of Triscuits; morsels of cheddar cheese; and green olives. Or it could be a day when I crave Wheat Thins; sliced ham and a dab of sweet mustard. The plate is always pretty, and I use a placemat and napkin. I feel like Queen-for-a Day and it cost me next to nothing.
My favorite Snack Tray items are the club sandwiches my mom made for our family picnics. These are a little more extravagant, but I’m certain you’ll have everything you need right under your nose. On white bread you will spread the following layers: margarine; regular cream cheese; canned deviled ham, and peanut butter. Top with another slice of white bread; leave crusts on; and cut into quarters. Voila… a meal! Of course we’re not going to give a second thought to cholesterol, as the sandwiches are always served with a jar of artichokes in oil.
My Grandma served afternoon snacks when I visited. She would pull out cold cuts; crackers; cheese; leftover vegetable medley, and make a meal that would equal Rachael Ray or Emeril Lagasse. We would sit at her small dining table and enjoy these “yum yums” as she would call them. This was topped off with Little Debbie’s and cold coffee. Those were the days! No chicken wraps; quesadillas; hot pockets; stuffed tater tots. If there comes a time you can’t afford a fast food frenzy, and you don’t want to spend an additional $4.00 on a gallon of gas, think Snack Tray instead.
Must run as I’m off to raid the cabinets! I’m thinking potato crisps; tuna; celery; and crunchy peanut butter. Even the dog is wagging her tail - she knows what’s coming and it’s going to be good. It’s our little secret.
The noise of pots and pans, the scream of the garbage disposal, the smell of the turkey. The windows would drip with evaporation as the eggnog warmed on the stove waiting for its splash of whiskey. I listened to the women-folk gossip and was vaguely aware of the football game in the background. I no longer live close enough to mom for her holiday dinners, and Grandma passed on one week after celebrating her 100th birthday. YOU GO GIRL.
I don’t need people in order to have a party. I just need a good stiff drink and a Snack Tray...although the dog is good company. I'm not referring to a sandwich platter at the local Subway, or a variety of appetizers from the T.G.I.F. frozen food line. A Snack Tray utilizes whatever you have in your refrigerator and pantry!
I purposely do not shop for this delightful selfish treat. I pull out Ritz Crackers; light cream cheese; black olives. I then make canapés for myself and Shania K.(my dog). On another occasion, out comes the box of Triscuits; morsels of cheddar cheese; and green olives. Or it could be a day when I crave Wheat Thins; sliced ham and a dab of sweet mustard. The plate is always pretty, and I use a placemat and napkin. I feel like Queen-for-a Day and it cost me next to nothing.
My favorite Snack Tray items are the club sandwiches my mom made for our family picnics. These are a little more extravagant, but I’m certain you’ll have everything you need right under your nose. On white bread you will spread the following layers: margarine; regular cream cheese; canned deviled ham, and peanut butter. Top with another slice of white bread; leave crusts on; and cut into quarters. Voila… a meal! Of course we’re not going to give a second thought to cholesterol, as the sandwiches are always served with a jar of artichokes in oil.
My Grandma served afternoon snacks when I visited. She would pull out cold cuts; crackers; cheese; leftover vegetable medley, and make a meal that would equal Rachael Ray or Emeril Lagasse. We would sit at her small dining table and enjoy these “yum yums” as she would call them. This was topped off with Little Debbie’s and cold coffee. Those were the days! No chicken wraps; quesadillas; hot pockets; stuffed tater tots. If there comes a time you can’t afford a fast food frenzy, and you don’t want to spend an additional $4.00 on a gallon of gas, think Snack Tray instead.
Must run as I’m off to raid the cabinets! I’m thinking potato crisps; tuna; celery; and crunchy peanut butter. Even the dog is wagging her tail - she knows what’s coming and it’s going to be good. It’s our little secret.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Never Forget
There are so many things to be thankful for this November. Both my husband and I are working; our household bills are paid; we have little credit card debt. We enjoy our home; appreciate the manageable mortgage payment; have both of our vehicles insured.
Our garden was a big success where we harvested lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, cantaloupe, watermelon, green beans, corn, red potatoes and a pumpkin that weighed in at 52 pounds. And let’s not forget the dozen sunflowers that towered over the deer fence!
We wave good morning to our neighbors; our California family members keep in touch via e-mail; and friends remember our name and phone number. Life is good; the economy seems to be improving; our pets are healthy; we have enough money in the bank to grocery shop once a week. We have venison and red meat in the freezer downstairs, and wild turkeys continue to stop at our property daily for our personal entertainment.
There is laughter, hope, compromise, energy, and mutual goals in our marriage. We enjoy action adventure movies; cocktails out in the garage in front of the antique wood-burning stove; spend time window shopping; hunting; or searching through antique stores for the deal of the century.
I don’t believe all of the above happened by magic or fate or luck. It’s a good life because a God Force led me to Northwest Montana ten years ago where I began to live healthy, happy, and hopeful. When I drive around the Flathead in my Jeep Liberty I frequently listen to a CD entitled “BELIEVE” which has many tunes by country and Christian artists. One song actually makes my heart sing. It’s actually a Christmas song, but I listen to it often and sing along with no intention of keeping in tune. I smile and turn up the volume to listen carefully to each note, each lyric.
The name of the song is Go Tell it on the Mountain by Sara Evans, and I’d like to share the lyrics with you:
Go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born
The shepherds kept their watching
Over silent flocks by night
Behold throughout the Heavens
There shown a Holy light
So go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born
Oh, down in a lowly manger
The humble Christ was born
God sent to us salvation
That blessed Christmas morn'
So go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born
Oh, tell everybody, everywhere
Go tell the world
That Jesus Christ is born
Oh Christ is born
Hallelujah, Oh...
Oh Christ is born
Oh...Tell the world
Our garden was a big success where we harvested lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, cantaloupe, watermelon, green beans, corn, red potatoes and a pumpkin that weighed in at 52 pounds. And let’s not forget the dozen sunflowers that towered over the deer fence!
We wave good morning to our neighbors; our California family members keep in touch via e-mail; and friends remember our name and phone number. Life is good; the economy seems to be improving; our pets are healthy; we have enough money in the bank to grocery shop once a week. We have venison and red meat in the freezer downstairs, and wild turkeys continue to stop at our property daily for our personal entertainment.
There is laughter, hope, compromise, energy, and mutual goals in our marriage. We enjoy action adventure movies; cocktails out in the garage in front of the antique wood-burning stove; spend time window shopping; hunting; or searching through antique stores for the deal of the century.
I don’t believe all of the above happened by magic or fate or luck. It’s a good life because a God Force led me to Northwest Montana ten years ago where I began to live healthy, happy, and hopeful. When I drive around the Flathead in my Jeep Liberty I frequently listen to a CD entitled “BELIEVE” which has many tunes by country and Christian artists. One song actually makes my heart sing. It’s actually a Christmas song, but I listen to it often and sing along with no intention of keeping in tune. I smile and turn up the volume to listen carefully to each note, each lyric.
The name of the song is Go Tell it on the Mountain by Sara Evans, and I’d like to share the lyrics with you:
Go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born
The shepherds kept their watching
Over silent flocks by night
Behold throughout the Heavens
There shown a Holy light
So go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born
Oh, down in a lowly manger
The humble Christ was born
God sent to us salvation
That blessed Christmas morn'
So go tell it on the mountain
Over the hills and everywhere
Go tell it on the mountain
That Jesus Christ is born
Oh, tell everybody, everywhere
Go tell the world
That Jesus Christ is born
Oh Christ is born
Hallelujah, Oh...
Oh Christ is born
Oh...Tell the world
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Bride, Beware
On November 7, 1970 I was married at the age of nineteen. I was fresh, young, hopeful, and full of joy on that day. I thought that by wearing his ring and taking his name the abuse would stop. He would know I was his, and he wouldn't slap me, push or pinch me. He wouldn't lock me in the apartment, then go for my throat when the pot roast wasn't moist or his socks weren't dry enough. He was a man that tried to control me, needed to mold me into the perfect wife that nodded yes and said very little. Well, the son-of-a-bitch got more than he bargained for. I fought back one night, and soon after, Uncle Sam sent his butt into the military and I could go back to being fresh, young, hopeful and full of joy.
Many years have passed since my wedding day at Chapel of the Canyon. There was another marriage three years later to a gentle man who happened to be a hippie. There was the birth of my only child, another divorce - but this time with dignity and respect. There was a fabulous career with big buck$ and the opportunity to bust through the glass ceiling. There were lovers of all ages and occupations. Then there were lies, and Kahlua, and pain. I got off-track and my moods went up and down like the pounds that were here one day and gone tomorrow.
So much struggle to find love and acceptance. There were times I spoke to the child within and didn't want to hear what she had to say. I forced myself to look at the difference between attention and affection. Then I had to understand why I needed them both - why I felt I had grown up with one, and not the other.
A good man came along, and a decision was made to move from CA to MT. I found work in a locked psychiatric hospital - I saw people check themselves in because of booze and drugs, or their spirit had been broken and they couldn't pull themselves out of the dark hole. How ironic that I had been one of their comrades back in the day. I now have compassion for people that are broken - but I also have a message.
Don't give up without a fight. I believe women are strong, smart, sassy, sentimental, sensual, serious and SINGING individuals. Therefore, my advice is don't let another person take your personal light. Hold onto your sanity by believing in yourself, and trust that no matter your twists and turns that God will take you where you're suppose to be.
And apparently He didn't want me married to Dennis Alan Wiley.
Many years have passed since my wedding day at Chapel of the Canyon. There was another marriage three years later to a gentle man who happened to be a hippie. There was the birth of my only child, another divorce - but this time with dignity and respect. There was a fabulous career with big buck$ and the opportunity to bust through the glass ceiling. There were lovers of all ages and occupations. Then there were lies, and Kahlua, and pain. I got off-track and my moods went up and down like the pounds that were here one day and gone tomorrow.
So much struggle to find love and acceptance. There were times I spoke to the child within and didn't want to hear what she had to say. I forced myself to look at the difference between attention and affection. Then I had to understand why I needed them both - why I felt I had grown up with one, and not the other.
A good man came along, and a decision was made to move from CA to MT. I found work in a locked psychiatric hospital - I saw people check themselves in because of booze and drugs, or their spirit had been broken and they couldn't pull themselves out of the dark hole. How ironic that I had been one of their comrades back in the day. I now have compassion for people that are broken - but I also have a message.
Don't give up without a fight. I believe women are strong, smart, sassy, sentimental, sensual, serious and SINGING individuals. Therefore, my advice is don't let another person take your personal light. Hold onto your sanity by believing in yourself, and trust that no matter your twists and turns that God will take you where you're suppose to be.
And apparently He didn't want me married to Dennis Alan Wiley.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Tom Turkey You Better Run
My first experience with turkeys was a wild one. It was ten years ago and hubby and I were visiting friends in Eureka. The men-folk were fishing and the ladies were going to shop at thrift stores in Whitefish and Kalispell. I was a passenger gawking out the window (just like a Californian viewing NW Montana for the first time) when the driver suddenly hit her brakes and backed up on US #93. Thank goodness there was no traffic in either direction. She pointed to the side of the highway at a group of wild turkeys, telling me this was a common sight. I thought the birds were magnificent – I hadn’t yet seen the bald-headed eagle, red fox or whitetail doe.
My second turkey experience was when my hunter husband asked if I’d like to scout turkeys early one Sunday morning. I thought fresh air, exercise, and quiet. I was anxious to see what the fuss was all about. I allowed him to dress me in camo and paint my face. He told me to be quiet as a mouse and step carefully through the brush. Although I looked good in camouflage clothing I was like a Mack truck in the woods. Snap, crackle, pop – I’m hungry. Snap, crackle, pop – I drank too much coffee. Snap, crackle, pop – what time is it? I did manage to see one turkey that looked as tall as a small child. I waved to the husband, pointed at the feathered creature and he took aim. I shouted WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU CAN'T KILL HIM, and started to sob. After the bird was long gone my husband told me scouting means find the bird, shoot the bird. I told him I just can’t accept that and walked home alone.
The next year on our July 28th wedding anniversary I came home and found turkey hens and fourteen young in our garden. I was mesmerized; I was smitten; I was speechless. I wanted to know how my wonderful husband had managed this special gift? I started to name the hens Teri-Tanya-Treena and Tricia. I called “The Boys” Tim-Tom-Tucker and Tripp. The largest one I named Grandpa. I began to collect turkey memorabilia, i.e. magnets, wind chimes, Christmas ornaments. Every feather they dropped in our yard was a treasure. My husband strongly advised me not to get attached, because fall turkey season would soon open. I told him no way would I allow my boys and hens to be on someone’s serving platter. And I could not imagine them placed on a paneled wall in full feather regalia. But, of course, the toms disappeared one by one.
Fast forward a year – same time, same place. More turkeys and more youngsters. We started getting calls from friends in California asking if they could come up and hunt. I told them, “We’re going to be out of town.” My husband told them, “Sure, bring your 12-gauge shotgun and your turkey call.” The moral of this story is don’t get attached to turkeys on your property. There’s a food chain and unfortunately folks like to stuff/roast/baste and carve wild turkeys.
But come this Thanksgiving holiday I’m serving CHICKEN, and if the hubby snorts I’ll throw him a frozen Cornish game hen. As God is my witness no Happy Valley Tom will be sitting at our dinner table unless he’s on a leash and wearing a bib.
My second turkey experience was when my hunter husband asked if I’d like to scout turkeys early one Sunday morning. I thought fresh air, exercise, and quiet. I was anxious to see what the fuss was all about. I allowed him to dress me in camo and paint my face. He told me to be quiet as a mouse and step carefully through the brush. Although I looked good in camouflage clothing I was like a Mack truck in the woods. Snap, crackle, pop – I’m hungry. Snap, crackle, pop – I drank too much coffee. Snap, crackle, pop – what time is it? I did manage to see one turkey that looked as tall as a small child. I waved to the husband, pointed at the feathered creature and he took aim. I shouted WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU CAN'T KILL HIM, and started to sob. After the bird was long gone my husband told me scouting means find the bird, shoot the bird. I told him I just can’t accept that and walked home alone.
The next year on our July 28th wedding anniversary I came home and found turkey hens and fourteen young in our garden. I was mesmerized; I was smitten; I was speechless. I wanted to know how my wonderful husband had managed this special gift? I started to name the hens Teri-Tanya-Treena and Tricia. I called “The Boys” Tim-Tom-Tucker and Tripp. The largest one I named Grandpa. I began to collect turkey memorabilia, i.e. magnets, wind chimes, Christmas ornaments. Every feather they dropped in our yard was a treasure. My husband strongly advised me not to get attached, because fall turkey season would soon open. I told him no way would I allow my boys and hens to be on someone’s serving platter. And I could not imagine them placed on a paneled wall in full feather regalia. But, of course, the toms disappeared one by one.
Fast forward a year – same time, same place. More turkeys and more youngsters. We started getting calls from friends in California asking if they could come up and hunt. I told them, “We’re going to be out of town.” My husband told them, “Sure, bring your 12-gauge shotgun and your turkey call.” The moral of this story is don’t get attached to turkeys on your property. There’s a food chain and unfortunately folks like to stuff/roast/baste and carve wild turkeys.
But come this Thanksgiving holiday I’m serving CHICKEN, and if the hubby snorts I’ll throw him a frozen Cornish game hen. As God is my witness no Happy Valley Tom will be sitting at our dinner table unless he’s on a leash and wearing a bib.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Baptism at Blankenship Road
What follows below is the script of my October 17, 2009 baptism:
Water is a symbol of humility and service. Water nurtures and sustains all living things, and yet it seeks nothing for itself – it always flows to the lowest spot. So, be like water, be humble, and nurture yourself and others.
Look at the people; look at the job, your circumstances, the family, the tribe, your home, and say, “Thank you, God, thank you for sending me these teachers.”
The concept of I Am God says, “I am eternal. I am beyond the definitions of the ego. I am beyond death.” Say to yourself several times a day: “I’m universal. I’m infinite. I am what I am. I’m immortal, here comes the sun. I’m ready.”
Try to see goodness everywhere. Notice the abundance. Notice the beauty. Move constantly to where there is serenity, where the God Force dwells, and away from discord and ugliness. -taken from The Infinite Self-
Water Baptism was instituted by God to be an essential part of our Spiritual Foundation. When we are baptised into the name of the Father we are baptised into the protection and care and fellowship of the universe as our Father. When we are baptised into the name of the Holy Spirit, we are baptised into the name, wealth, power, wisdom, and glory of God’s representation on earth. All that the Spirit has we are baptised. Being baptised in the name of our Lord is an essential part of our baptism in water.
Remember that faith is simply agreeing with God’s Word. When we come into agreement with God’s Word, He is able to work in our lives in a mighty way.
Acts 2:38: Then Peter said to them, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptised in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”
Acts 8:36: Now as they went down the road, they came to some water. And the eunuch said, “See, here is water. What hinders me from being baptised?”
Acts 8:37: Then Philip said, “If you believe with all your heart, you may.” And he answered and said, “I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.”
Sandra:
Do you turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as your Savior? I do, I will.
Do you put your whole trust in His grace and love? I do, I will.
Do you promise to follow and obey Him as your Lord? I do, I will.
There is one Body and one Spirit; there is one hope in God’s call to us;
One Lord, one faith, one Baptism; One God and Father of all
The Lord be with you. Let us pray.
PRAYER:
Deliver Sandra, O Lord, from the way of sin and death
Open her heart to your grace and truth
Fill Sandra with your holy and life-giving Spirit
Keep her in the faith and communion of your holy Church
Teach Sandra to love others in the power of the Spirit
Send her into the world in witness to your love
Bring Sandra to the fullness of your peace and glory
Amen
Acts 22:16: “And now why are you waiting? Arise and be baptised, and wash away your sins, calling on the name of the Lord.”
Galatians 2:20: “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”
Romans 6:5-6: “For if we have been united together in the likeness of His death, certainly we also shall be in the likeness of His resurrection.”
Sandra Smith-Bellissimo, I baptise you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever. The peace of the Lord be always with you. Amen
THE LORD’S PRAYER
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy Name
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen
Music playing was "AMAZING GRACE" and “GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN”
*Baptism Performed by Ordained Minister MaryAnn Birchfield
Water is a symbol of humility and service. Water nurtures and sustains all living things, and yet it seeks nothing for itself – it always flows to the lowest spot. So, be like water, be humble, and nurture yourself and others.
Look at the people; look at the job, your circumstances, the family, the tribe, your home, and say, “Thank you, God, thank you for sending me these teachers.”
The concept of I Am God says, “I am eternal. I am beyond the definitions of the ego. I am beyond death.” Say to yourself several times a day: “I’m universal. I’m infinite. I am what I am. I’m immortal, here comes the sun. I’m ready.”
Try to see goodness everywhere. Notice the abundance. Notice the beauty. Move constantly to where there is serenity, where the God Force dwells, and away from discord and ugliness. -taken from The Infinite Self-
Water Baptism was instituted by God to be an essential part of our Spiritual Foundation. When we are baptised into the name of the Father we are baptised into the protection and care and fellowship of the universe as our Father. When we are baptised into the name of the Holy Spirit, we are baptised into the name, wealth, power, wisdom, and glory of God’s representation on earth. All that the Spirit has we are baptised. Being baptised in the name of our Lord is an essential part of our baptism in water.
Remember that faith is simply agreeing with God’s Word. When we come into agreement with God’s Word, He is able to work in our lives in a mighty way.
Acts 2:38: Then Peter said to them, “Repent, and let every one of you be baptised in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”
Acts 8:36: Now as they went down the road, they came to some water. And the eunuch said, “See, here is water. What hinders me from being baptised?”
Acts 8:37: Then Philip said, “If you believe with all your heart, you may.” And he answered and said, “I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.”
Sandra:
Do you turn to Jesus Christ and accept him as your Savior? I do, I will.
Do you put your whole trust in His grace and love? I do, I will.
Do you promise to follow and obey Him as your Lord? I do, I will.
There is one Body and one Spirit; there is one hope in God’s call to us;
One Lord, one faith, one Baptism; One God and Father of all
The Lord be with you. Let us pray.
PRAYER:
Deliver Sandra, O Lord, from the way of sin and death
Open her heart to your grace and truth
Fill Sandra with your holy and life-giving Spirit
Keep her in the faith and communion of your holy Church
Teach Sandra to love others in the power of the Spirit
Send her into the world in witness to your love
Bring Sandra to the fullness of your peace and glory
Amen
Acts 22:16: “And now why are you waiting? Arise and be baptised, and wash away your sins, calling on the name of the Lord.”
Galatians 2:20: “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”
Romans 6:5-6: “For if we have been united together in the likeness of His death, certainly we also shall be in the likeness of His resurrection.”
Sandra Smith-Bellissimo, I baptise you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever. The peace of the Lord be always with you. Amen
THE LORD’S PRAYER
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy Name
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen
Music playing was "AMAZING GRACE" and “GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN”
*Baptism Performed by Ordained Minister MaryAnn Birchfield
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