September 1, 2014
An Actual Post - Number 2

The time to tell me you did not latch the attic window was when the sun was shining and the day was young…

…not now, when darkness is falling and there are 5 severe weather alerts going off.

That window is in a dimly lit room full of spiders and spider webs, is 10 feet up, and the only way to get to it is to do terribly inelegant bodily contortions with one toe on a six inch ledge and the other on a half inch ledge.

I’m not going in there now.  

August 30, 2014
An Actual Post - Number 1

It’s a long weekend.  All day on Friday people asked … “any big plans for the weekend?”

And I responded “laundry.”  And they looked sad for me.

Honestly, though, getting laundry done over the weekend is not a pitiable thing.  It is an accomplishment.  

People have come to believe there must be excitement in their lives or their lives are wasted.  

Here’s some excitement for you - I took the two nearly-empty shampoo bottles and emptied the last of one into the other AND cleaned up the sticky spot under the shampoo bottle, on the edge of the tub where shampoo drops and becomes a sticky mess.  

When I finish this post, I will sort laundry, pre-treat stains, put a load of laundry in, swap the clean dishes in the dishwasher for a new load of dirty dishes … and then start the dishwasher.

Those are tasks that need to get done.  And getting them done is, I posit, noble.  Even if not very exciting to most people.

If you are likewise engaged in noble tasks of life, be of good cheer.  You are not alone.

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September 14, 2013
Not Feeling it and Glad of It

That ache in your stomach when you hear the song from the radio when you drove to the place and stole glances and dreams piled up like blankets, wrapping you in the warmth of every brittle leaf of his attention that blew your way….

One day, like the surprise of a lark on the path, there will be no divot, crevasse, gaping expanse, to be filled by the treacle of his memory.  

From sedge to summit, we are our own once more.  And glad of it.

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May 17, 2013
Apparently My Hair Makes People Cry

Walking from the cafeteria back to my desk, I run into a girl from IT who I know.  She is young, small, trim, pretty, has an MBA - one of those annoying people who has everything going for them. 

The first thing she says to me is “What have you done to your hair?!”

She’s a prankster.  I just shake my head bewildered and wonder what’s coming next. 

"You cut all your hair!  When did you cut your hair?!"

Other people are now in the hall, attempting to pass between us.  They are guys and they do not care about my hair.

I try to tell her I switched to a new place, etc. 

Tears are welling up in her eyes.  Actual tears.

She seems to be rendered speechless, but then gets out “You look so … so ….”

And I wait with a bit of dread to hear what horrid adjective is to come.

"…so … sassy!"

"I’ll take sassy.  Thanks!" I say and move on down the hall.

She cried.  It’s been months.  But today … the shock of it all overwhelmed her.

Be careful with your haircuts out there.  The emotional stability of the world depends upon it.

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May 15, 2013

Bookmark - the critical function which allows you to save all your open pages when your updates WILL NOT WAIT ONE MORE MINUTE.

May 11, 2013

There are days of fear and dread, when the desolation of our souls presses so greatly as to hinder breath.

Dawn birthed another such day and … here … we … sit.  

January 28, 2013
Six Days of Vacation

Anyone who actually HAS vacation days knows how precious they are, how carefully we hoard them, how miserly we are as we spend them.  And so, it is with good reason you might ask how I recently spent six days of vacation.

Full disclosure, I have 20 days of vacation to spend each “year” (hire date anniversary to hire date anniversary).   Usually, I spend them on stay-cations, doing chores and errands or being home when my son visits.

At church on Sunday, Jason our Director of Christian Education (DCE) asked if I would be interested in going to Connecticut with the church’s Comfort Dogs to help out for a week.  There have been Comfort Dogs there since it happened in December, but they needed “fresh” dogs to come help out.  Our dogs, new to us after the tornado in Joplin, had never made such a trip before.  But it seemed right to respond to the call for help.

This is a busy time of year at work, but the boss OK’d it and four days later we left on Friday to give the dogs a day of rest after two days of travel.

The area is wooded, rolling hills, with “towns” bunched close, indistinguishable one from another.  There are about 27,000 people living there.  It seemed very much like home, in that respect.  Small town, close knit.

We “worked” the dogs at a church, at a mall, at a surprise party at Town Hall, at a call center, a dance studio, the middle school, the “new” Sandy Hook at Chalk Hill, at the senior center and at a preschool.   The dogs love to work and be petted.  People young and old love to pet dogs.  In some small way it was perhaps therapeutic.  We were thanked again and again.

We took pictures, but always only with permission.  The town is weary of the media spotlight.  Understandably wary of prying eyes.

We became better handlers and grew to admire the strength and discipline of the dogs.  Their work is draining.  To be still, to be of comfort, when all around are smells and noises and, sometimes, poking fingers, takes great concentration on their part.  

The five of us on the trip learned much about one another, too.  I still feel new, having only returned to this particular congregation two years ago.  Barely knowing everyone’s names, my introversion had me quiet for a few days.  But working the dogs requires a certain level of engagement that spilled over to the group, and ultimately I learned a bit more about everyone.

This was a new type of vacation for me, but it was good.  I’ll be shopping for more such vacations.   If you’ve never taken vacation to help out, consider it. 

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January 18, 2013

There will be no sleep tonight…and perhaps that is alright.

The metal aftertaste of exertion and exhaustion mixed with the certain knowledge THERE IS NO MORE TIME…it’s very much like the feeling before a Calculus exam.  Except there is no test.  Not a written one.

I imagined adventure, for this must surely be an adventure, activity of choice not compulsion, to be more exciting and thrilling and less like futile cramming for math exams. 

Perhaps in the morning, once the journey begins….

Now…now I must stop putting off the selection of a suitcase, clothes, shoes, must tick off the list of essentials, run last errands…

…and begin.

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December 25, 2012
Blessed Christmas

Praying for peace, comfort, and wisdom for all of you as we step into a day meant for closeness and celebration of God’s precious gift, a day which too often reminds us how truly distant we can be, one from another.

December 24, 2012

December 21, 2012

The water is cold
The water is cold

Slipping beneath
Dark and quiet


The water is cold

November 16, 2012
Words with Strangers

I don’t play Words with Friends. I’d be mortified for friends to know how much time I spend playing and how pedestrian my vocabulary is.

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August 4, 2012

Hello there, my lovely.  Do you know I miss you?  Do you know you are loved?

May 23, 2012
I have a problem

Someone “announces” the items they bring into my office.  For example, when placing the remittances I need to review and sign into my inbox, this person says “Here are the remittances!”  To clarify, remittances are processed every week and are not particularly extraordinary.

Everything – and I am not exaggerating, it is everything – brought to my office is announced with a description.  Sometimes a deadline is also mentioned.  But always the description.

I actually said once, “You don’t need to announce things you bring to my office.  It’s OK.  I’ll figure it out.”  But the practice persists.

It is not that new items in the office are offensive, per se.  Tiring perhaps.   Many people bring many items.  Often they can do it without me even noticing they’ve come and gone. 

It is not that I find the person particularly grating, such that anything said is annoying.  A simple “How’s it going?” would not rankle.  It is this particular, persistent, pathological practice which is distracting me from the myriad of other things I should be doing.

Why does this bother me?  To ask again for it to stop would hurt feelings and I don’t want to do that.  Any suggestions or thoughts?

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April 29, 2012
The Horror

By day, the neighbors’ dogs are OK.  They bark.  They are supposed to.  They are dogs.  By night, however, when it is dark and there are no cars and it is late…the new neighbor’s dog barks so viciously at … something … making both the dog and the unknown something rather scary. 

It’s probably a moth. 

Or a bunny.

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