Isaiah 41:13
For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.
Hubby and I decided, when the daughter was 6 and the son was 3, to serve with Habitat for Humanity International. A. quit his job, we sold our two cars, sold our house in Minnesota and hit the road for Americus, Georgia for training.
We traveled from Minnesota to Florida (Disney World!) to Georgia via car. This took about four days of traveling, before and after Disney World. Our darling three year old, as yet to be diagnosed as autistic, screamed every morning, all morning. He could not be coaxed, coerced or calmed. He was potty trained, however, with several stops along the road with his plastic potty.
These Northerners lived in Georgia April - August. Not good. The temporary housing in Georgia provided by Habitat for Humanity had no air conditioning. Whip out the camera and picture Mom and the two kiddies passed out in bed. For the first week, anyhow.
Eventually the children attended daycare and the parents learned the history of Habitat, how to make roof tiles, how to make a kiln, acted in skits and were urged to bond with the other trainees. As trainees, we looked at each other and wondered why we should bond with each other when we would be dispersing to locations all over the world to build houses. The encouragements to bond were liberally sprinkled with exhortations by the Habitat community to forgive and forget.
Well, now, that's interesting. Forgive and forget what? It turned out there had been recent accusations that the founder of HFH had been sexually inappropriate with staff. So much for the support and comaraderie of HFH I had hoped would support us overseas. This cheery development was followed by grim news from back home.
Our church in Minnesota was small and family like. Daughter, B., was in the Christmas play when she was very young. I am hard of hearing and I told her usually I could not hear children when they did their parts. In her role as one of the doves in the manger with Jesus, she loudly and clearly assured us all, "I, SAID THE DOVE FROM RAFTERS HIGH, I COOED HIM TO SLEEP THAT HE WOULD NOT CRY!"
I had attended women's Bible studies there and felt comfortable with the other ladies and the pastor. It seemed that the church was excited and interested in our HFH venture. The news came to us in Georgia that our pastor had been sexually inappropriate with one of my friends from the Bible studies. Satan was surely busy clearing away our earthly cheerleaders.
Hubby is waiting for the computer. Today's treasure was meeting with our friends from church to study Romans 8 and to share our concerns regarding our families' relationships and health. We are God "with skin on" for each other.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Friday, May 2, 2014
John 10:14
I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me...
I know that God likes to shower us with blessings, but yesterday He was just showing off.
First, I was asked by a second grade teacher to talk with two of her students that have not been getting along. I'm actually employed at the school as an instructional aide, not as a counselor. I was mighty thrilled to offer my social work skills. The teacher, the class, the aforementioned students and I all brainstormed together about the two students' strengths and how they can use their strengths to get along. Time will tell if the challenged students will make it work. As for me, I do believe I will take continuing education units and pay the fees so my social work license will not lapse. God may use me as a licensed certified social worker yet!
Then, later that day, who should greet me at Barnes and Noble but C., my supervisor from my former job at a half way house. The last time we saw each other was when I handed in my resignation as a case manager. Working at the half way house had become very stressful for me because the lady who hired me back in 2006 was gone, C. was promoted from case manager to supervisor in 2011, the half way house administrators in the far away land of Fargo were suddenly roaring loud and clear in our offices in the city of Mandan, and somehow I went from a valued employee to someone who "did not fit." Little ol' me did not have the wherewithal to deal with the complicated, opinionated, defensive clients of the half way house (people who were transitioning from prison back into society), and defend myself to an apparently hostile employer. So, I tearfully quit in 2012.
It turns out C. decided to quit her position at the half way house later the same year. If my understanding is correct, she also was made to feel inadequate. Anyway, at Barnes and Noble we laughed, talked about how very difficult it was to work at the half way house and reconnected as much happier human beings. We congratulated each other on moving on and finding better jobs in this big ol' world. I am mighty glad she saw me and stopped to say hello!
Then, finally, I was asked to be a greeter at a Joy International meeting called Java Joy. It was a pleasure for me to say hello, give people a name tag, and ask them to sign in. The speaker spoke on kindness, one of the fruits of the Spirit. Lovely, lovely ladies all!
Thank you God for everything!
I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me...
I know that God likes to shower us with blessings, but yesterday He was just showing off.
First, I was asked by a second grade teacher to talk with two of her students that have not been getting along. I'm actually employed at the school as an instructional aide, not as a counselor. I was mighty thrilled to offer my social work skills. The teacher, the class, the aforementioned students and I all brainstormed together about the two students' strengths and how they can use their strengths to get along. Time will tell if the challenged students will make it work. As for me, I do believe I will take continuing education units and pay the fees so my social work license will not lapse. God may use me as a licensed certified social worker yet!
Then, later that day, who should greet me at Barnes and Noble but C., my supervisor from my former job at a half way house. The last time we saw each other was when I handed in my resignation as a case manager. Working at the half way house had become very stressful for me because the lady who hired me back in 2006 was gone, C. was promoted from case manager to supervisor in 2011, the half way house administrators in the far away land of Fargo were suddenly roaring loud and clear in our offices in the city of Mandan, and somehow I went from a valued employee to someone who "did not fit." Little ol' me did not have the wherewithal to deal with the complicated, opinionated, defensive clients of the half way house (people who were transitioning from prison back into society), and defend myself to an apparently hostile employer. So, I tearfully quit in 2012.
It turns out C. decided to quit her position at the half way house later the same year. If my understanding is correct, she also was made to feel inadequate. Anyway, at Barnes and Noble we laughed, talked about how very difficult it was to work at the half way house and reconnected as much happier human beings. We congratulated each other on moving on and finding better jobs in this big ol' world. I am mighty glad she saw me and stopped to say hello!
Then, finally, I was asked to be a greeter at a Joy International meeting called Java Joy. It was a pleasure for me to say hello, give people a name tag, and ask them to sign in. The speaker spoke on kindness, one of the fruits of the Spirit. Lovely, lovely ladies all!
Thank you God for everything!
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
2 Cor 12:9
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.
So, how quiet is my darling spouse? He is so quiet that if we have only so many words allotted to us for a lifetime, he has another lifetime left! I mean, really, it only took ten years to learn his favorite color is blue. We've been married thirty years and these are some of the very few introspective nuggets that have slipped his lips: he does not like peanut butter, he does like banana cream pie, and he loves me. So, what up wid dat? Please allow me to speculate and stray momentarily off topic.
I may or may not have mentioned that I have two children who are the best children in the whole world. You maybe thought you had them, but no, I do. So sorry for you. Anyway, our first child was a daughter, B. She was a little surprise. A bonus, shall we say, from our second visit to J.'s cabin in the Land of 10,000 Lakes.
Her little face lit up at the sight of me. She made a sound, I made a sound. We moved on to talking, reading books, pretending to be peacocks and generally reveling in each others' company. The deceptive little thing deluded me into thinking I had this motherhood thing down.
The three of us, A., B., and me, moved our happy little family Down Under. A. was a programmer with Unisys. He told me Unisys had a contract with the Royal Australian Navy and programmers were needed. I knew A. was very good at what he did and I said, "Put your little hand in the air and WAVE!" We went to live Down Under for a year and a half. B. acquired an Australian accent and I acquired a baby bump. I tell everyone who will listen that he was conceived in Cairns. Pronounced "cans." I'm bad.
We arrived back in Minnesota in November 1986. Our souvenir from Australia, M., arrived April 1987. He did not turn yellow, like his sister. He did not require the movie star treatment under the bright lights. More about the daughter's dramatic delivery later.
We took this uncomplicated baby boy home on a lovely spring day. He did not want his pacifier for the ride home from the hospital. His sister worshiped at the alter of Nuk. I kept putting his in his mouth and later discovered it in my bra.
As you can see, the comparisons of the daughter and son had begun. She thought I was all that and a bag of chips. He preferred to snuggle with Dad. She held a finger in the air, when asked how old she was, and declared "One!" Actually, she was eleven months. He seemed to see things in the dreamy distance. He did not talk until he was two. Then he up and said, "Daddy's home, get up now." If she was fussy, she could be put in her crib and soon she would calm down and have a nap. He would go in fussy, and escalate to wailing without end. She seemed to enjoy words; talking, listening, and conversing. "In five minutes we will be leaving to visit a friend," had meaning. Unfortunately for M., the aforementioned seemed to be noise. All he knew was: hey wait, there goes the little cars I just lined up just right, and why the heck are they putting this coat on me, and whoa! this is when we usually eat, and now we are in the car, and I am hungry and I have a cold, and what is this place and who are these people and I AM HAVING NONE OF THIS!
I did learn my children are each precious and comparing does nobody good. However, the scenario above was repeated whenever our routine was disrupted. It seemed to me our little one was a titch unreachable. There was some undefinable something I could not explain. Looking back, it is possible for me to say that he seemed to be an independent creature living on an alien planet.
Imagine packing up our little family and moving to South America when B. was six and M. was 3. More to come!
Today's treasure was wearing my white spring/summer jeans even if it was only 45 degrees F. Tomorrow is May Day, dang it!
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.
So, how quiet is my darling spouse? He is so quiet that if we have only so many words allotted to us for a lifetime, he has another lifetime left! I mean, really, it only took ten years to learn his favorite color is blue. We've been married thirty years and these are some of the very few introspective nuggets that have slipped his lips: he does not like peanut butter, he does like banana cream pie, and he loves me. So, what up wid dat? Please allow me to speculate and stray momentarily off topic.
I may or may not have mentioned that I have two children who are the best children in the whole world. You maybe thought you had them, but no, I do. So sorry for you. Anyway, our first child was a daughter, B. She was a little surprise. A bonus, shall we say, from our second visit to J.'s cabin in the Land of 10,000 Lakes.
Her little face lit up at the sight of me. She made a sound, I made a sound. We moved on to talking, reading books, pretending to be peacocks and generally reveling in each others' company. The deceptive little thing deluded me into thinking I had this motherhood thing down.
The three of us, A., B., and me, moved our happy little family Down Under. A. was a programmer with Unisys. He told me Unisys had a contract with the Royal Australian Navy and programmers were needed. I knew A. was very good at what he did and I said, "Put your little hand in the air and WAVE!" We went to live Down Under for a year and a half. B. acquired an Australian accent and I acquired a baby bump. I tell everyone who will listen that he was conceived in Cairns. Pronounced "cans." I'm bad.
We arrived back in Minnesota in November 1986. Our souvenir from Australia, M., arrived April 1987. He did not turn yellow, like his sister. He did not require the movie star treatment under the bright lights. More about the daughter's dramatic delivery later.
We took this uncomplicated baby boy home on a lovely spring day. He did not want his pacifier for the ride home from the hospital. His sister worshiped at the alter of Nuk. I kept putting his in his mouth and later discovered it in my bra.
As you can see, the comparisons of the daughter and son had begun. She thought I was all that and a bag of chips. He preferred to snuggle with Dad. She held a finger in the air, when asked how old she was, and declared "One!" Actually, she was eleven months. He seemed to see things in the dreamy distance. He did not talk until he was two. Then he up and said, "Daddy's home, get up now." If she was fussy, she could be put in her crib and soon she would calm down and have a nap. He would go in fussy, and escalate to wailing without end. She seemed to enjoy words; talking, listening, and conversing. "In five minutes we will be leaving to visit a friend," had meaning. Unfortunately for M., the aforementioned seemed to be noise. All he knew was: hey wait, there goes the little cars I just lined up just right, and why the heck are they putting this coat on me, and whoa! this is when we usually eat, and now we are in the car, and I am hungry and I have a cold, and what is this place and who are these people and I AM HAVING NONE OF THIS!
I did learn my children are each precious and comparing does nobody good. However, the scenario above was repeated whenever our routine was disrupted. It seemed to me our little one was a titch unreachable. There was some undefinable something I could not explain. Looking back, it is possible for me to say that he seemed to be an independent creature living on an alien planet.
Imagine packing up our little family and moving to South America when B. was six and M. was 3. More to come!
Today's treasure was wearing my white spring/summer jeans even if it was only 45 degrees F. Tomorrow is May Day, dang it!
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Romans 8:18
...consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.
That was part of the Bible reading in church last Sunday. My first reaction was, "Pffft! Suffering? I'm not suffering!" I know from traveling that I am a millionaire living in La La Land here in the good ol' USA. My health is good, the health of my family and friends is good. I've got a sweetie, a home, a job, two cats, and a good life. Nobody is persecuting me because of my religion. What do I know of suffering?
Then a teeny tiny bit of honesty crept in. I am suffering from the dissonance, distance and disapproval I feel in my relationships with my adult children. I have been battling mightily with the despair I feel with my daughter's estrangement from me. Then while I was eating out with my son, I expressed my displeasure to him about waiting such a loooooong time until the waitress came to take our order. He pretty much said, "Oh poor you! Have a little compassion Mom!" O dear.
I often feel like the "shoot Mom" hunting season is on and I'm the clueless bounty. I mean, shouldn't there be the ringing of a bell, or a "Ladies, start your engines," or something? This honesty bit then lead to the realization that a nasty little something in my head (where the heck does that come from anyway?) says, "Yeah, your relationships suck, you suck, it is all your fault and it will never get any better."
Thank goodness being honest didn't leave me with that cheery little bit. Because, my present sufferings will be completely blown away by the wonderful relationships, happiness, and God's faithful goodness that will be revealed. Suddenly, being honest with myself doesn't feel so hopeless anymore.
I had a good laugh yesterday. I just finished reading a nonfiction book with the outlandish title of "Love and Terror on the Howling Plains of Nowhere." It is about a mysterious disappearance and death in Chadron, Nebraska. In the book, Chadron sounds like a small, isolated place. Wouldn't you know, when I joined my fellow instructional aides at lunch, a gal was saying she was from Nebraska and loved everything about it. And, yes, she knew the location of Chadron! I love moments like that.
I am a voracious reader of biographies. I think I will call it a night with "Walking on Eggshells."
...consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.
That was part of the Bible reading in church last Sunday. My first reaction was, "Pffft! Suffering? I'm not suffering!" I know from traveling that I am a millionaire living in La La Land here in the good ol' USA. My health is good, the health of my family and friends is good. I've got a sweetie, a home, a job, two cats, and a good life. Nobody is persecuting me because of my religion. What do I know of suffering?
Then a teeny tiny bit of honesty crept in. I am suffering from the dissonance, distance and disapproval I feel in my relationships with my adult children. I have been battling mightily with the despair I feel with my daughter's estrangement from me. Then while I was eating out with my son, I expressed my displeasure to him about waiting such a loooooong time until the waitress came to take our order. He pretty much said, "Oh poor you! Have a little compassion Mom!" O dear.
I often feel like the "shoot Mom" hunting season is on and I'm the clueless bounty. I mean, shouldn't there be the ringing of a bell, or a "Ladies, start your engines," or something? This honesty bit then lead to the realization that a nasty little something in my head (where the heck does that come from anyway?) says, "Yeah, your relationships suck, you suck, it is all your fault and it will never get any better."
Thank goodness being honest didn't leave me with that cheery little bit. Because, my present sufferings will be completely blown away by the wonderful relationships, happiness, and God's faithful goodness that will be revealed. Suddenly, being honest with myself doesn't feel so hopeless anymore.
I had a good laugh yesterday. I just finished reading a nonfiction book with the outlandish title of "Love and Terror on the Howling Plains of Nowhere." It is about a mysterious disappearance and death in Chadron, Nebraska. In the book, Chadron sounds like a small, isolated place. Wouldn't you know, when I joined my fellow instructional aides at lunch, a gal was saying she was from Nebraska and loved everything about it. And, yes, she knew the location of Chadron! I love moments like that.
I am a voracious reader of biographies. I think I will call it a night with "Walking on Eggshells."
Monday, April 28, 2014
Lamentations 3: 22-23
...his compassions never fail. They are new every morning
Going To The Chapel, continued. Surprise, surprise, my man of mystery said, "OK." We proceeded to go through the bureaucratic hoops for marriage, went to LaBelle's (anybody remember LaBelle's?) for the wedding rings, and set about finding a preacher man. A.'s roommate (and co-worker at Unisys) was dating a co-worker of mine at CCC. Small world, ey? Initially we planned to act as their witnesses and they would act as our witnesses of marriage. But upon further consideration the other couple decided they wanted the big wedding with all the hoopla. They did act as our witnesses, however, and we were married at their church on August 27, 1980.
My grandmother and my aunt graciously put together a quick wedding reception at my apartment. A total of eight people were present at the ceremony/reception and J. (remember J.?) was very cheesed to have missed it. The state of Minnesota whooped it up on our behalf under the guise of a State Fair. We went to the fair directly after the reception and celebrated our newly wed status with a bag of mini-donuts.
Thus began our marriage in the good ol' state of Minnesota. From there we have moved to Australia, Georgia, Guatemala, Bolivia, and for now, North Dakota.
We have had two brilliant babies, acquired Spanish as a second language, learned marriage is a lot of work, dang it, traveled to Europe, worn out one passport a piece, and have had the privilege to assist people. If this sounds interesting, please stay tuned. Habitat for Humanity, Asperger's Syndrome, medical missions, a Masters in Social Work, memories of a halfway house, a detached retina, Visiting Angels, and bone anchored hearing aides will be forthcoming as well.
Presently I am employed as an Instructional Aide at an elementary school. I supervise the playground, assist in classrooms, supervise in the cafeteria and wipe tables. This is my second go-round as an Instructional Aid. From 1994 to 2000, I worked as an English as a Second Language teachers' aide. I assisted teachers in grades K - 12, throughout the city. I learned diplomacy as each school is its own little world, with large differences in morale and "the way things are done." I learned time management as I drove from one end of town to another to spend perhaps 20 minutes with a student, then hopped in the car and did it again. I got to know the families of some of these children from the Ukraine, Cuba, Bosnia, and Haiti. I learned to be grateful I did not have to flee my home to save my life.
I had a good laugh when a student from Cuba was learning to count in English from 1 to 10. He did great! Then I asked him if he could count higher. He said he could. Then he raised both hands over his head and counted, "1, 2, 3..." O dear!
Today's treasure has got to be the following. I am in and out of approximately five classrooms a day assisting various students. Today a second grade student, with whom I do not work, was leaving class early. He packed his backpack, put on his coat, gave me a hug and said, "Good bye Mrs. J!" Just completely out of the blue!!! I can learn a lot about kindness from these kiddos!!!
...his compassions never fail. They are new every morning
Going To The Chapel, continued. Surprise, surprise, my man of mystery said, "OK." We proceeded to go through the bureaucratic hoops for marriage, went to LaBelle's (anybody remember LaBelle's?) for the wedding rings, and set about finding a preacher man. A.'s roommate (and co-worker at Unisys) was dating a co-worker of mine at CCC. Small world, ey? Initially we planned to act as their witnesses and they would act as our witnesses of marriage. But upon further consideration the other couple decided they wanted the big wedding with all the hoopla. They did act as our witnesses, however, and we were married at their church on August 27, 1980.
My grandmother and my aunt graciously put together a quick wedding reception at my apartment. A total of eight people were present at the ceremony/reception and J. (remember J.?) was very cheesed to have missed it. The state of Minnesota whooped it up on our behalf under the guise of a State Fair. We went to the fair directly after the reception and celebrated our newly wed status with a bag of mini-donuts.
Thus began our marriage in the good ol' state of Minnesota. From there we have moved to Australia, Georgia, Guatemala, Bolivia, and for now, North Dakota.
We have had two brilliant babies, acquired Spanish as a second language, learned marriage is a lot of work, dang it, traveled to Europe, worn out one passport a piece, and have had the privilege to assist people. If this sounds interesting, please stay tuned. Habitat for Humanity, Asperger's Syndrome, medical missions, a Masters in Social Work, memories of a halfway house, a detached retina, Visiting Angels, and bone anchored hearing aides will be forthcoming as well.
Presently I am employed as an Instructional Aide at an elementary school. I supervise the playground, assist in classrooms, supervise in the cafeteria and wipe tables. This is my second go-round as an Instructional Aid. From 1994 to 2000, I worked as an English as a Second Language teachers' aide. I assisted teachers in grades K - 12, throughout the city. I learned diplomacy as each school is its own little world, with large differences in morale and "the way things are done." I learned time management as I drove from one end of town to another to spend perhaps 20 minutes with a student, then hopped in the car and did it again. I got to know the families of some of these children from the Ukraine, Cuba, Bosnia, and Haiti. I learned to be grateful I did not have to flee my home to save my life.
I had a good laugh when a student from Cuba was learning to count in English from 1 to 10. He did great! Then I asked him if he could count higher. He said he could. Then he raised both hands over his head and counted, "1, 2, 3..." O dear!
Today's treasure has got to be the following. I am in and out of approximately five classrooms a day assisting various students. Today a second grade student, with whom I do not work, was leaving class early. He packed his backpack, put on his coat, gave me a hug and said, "Good bye Mrs. J!" Just completely out of the blue!!! I can learn a lot about kindness from these kiddos!!!
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Psalm 89:15
Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, O LORD.
Today's treasure, so far, is my confused cat, waking me around 9:30 AM, because the alarm did not go off at 6:30 AM. He kneaded my arm, sneezed in my face and tried to bite my nose. Ain't sleeping in grand?
So, Mr. Blue Eyes asked me the next day if I wanted to go canoeing. He silently rowed and I talked nonstop. Wandering in a meadow and along the shore resulted in two kisses. They say silent waters run deep. I say they run fast. It was quickly apparent to our cohorts that we were an item.
I don't remember with whom I rode to get to the cabin, but I rode back with A. on his motorcycle. J., the host, helped me don the required motorcycle helmet. I thought at the time, my he is sweet. With time I learned J. was actually sweet on A. Totally unknown to A. I was a means to and end. O dear.
My solitary existence suddenly exploded. This little nobody was fielding the amorous intentions of A., from the cabin, J. in pursuit of A., a much younger co-worker, and ? a fellow student from confirmation class. Mercy me. It is a shame I couldn't bottle and sell whatever was attracting them all! To top it off, a former flame met while bar hopping decided maybe he was interested in me.
How, you may ask, did I know J. was sweet on A.? J.'s modus operandi was to double date with us, try to wrestle with A. during group get togethers, to have a hissy fit if A. did not come to every one of J.'s plays, to tell me all A. wanted from me was sex and, paradoxically, to share with me his fantasies about the three of us abed.
A.'s modus operandi was to go to square dance classes with me every Friday night. And yes, dear darling J. would be there too. Square dancing is good, clean fun. I enjoyed buying the twirly dresses, fluffy petticoats, and ruffly. mid thigh, flirty undergarments. And gold dancing slippers. It didn't hurt that after the class there would be a pot luck with lots of casseroles and desserts. Every Friday night we had fun dancing, eating, and laughing with people about our age. A. and I tried to find a square dance group where we presently live, but, dare I say it? Everybody was so OLD!!
A year of dating and squaring dancing quickly slipped away. During that time I learned this fella really, really, doesn't talk much. One of the current popular songs was "He's So Shy!" That worked for me. More on his reticence later. It was hard to resist a handsome, blue eyed sweetie that kept coming back.
I learned that he was younger than me. I guess the Vietnam War picked off a lot of candidates my age. I was pondering my encroaching senility while we were driving to Rochester to visit his friends, and I heard A. propose some blueprints for a house. A house for us. I asked him if this was his way of proposing. He continued to concentrate on the road, and said it was. Visions of nursing homes fled from my head and I said, "Well alrighty then!" Or something equally emphatic.
I wanted to do the deed right quick. My romantic man wanted to wait until the following January for tax purposes. Many a time I filled the ear of any friend who would listen with, "For tax purposes!!! Can you believe it????" It dawned on me the person with whom I should be griping was A. I duly did so. He said, "OK then. When do you want to get married?" I replied, "In two weeks."
More later. Time to practice juggling.
Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, O LORD.
Today's treasure, so far, is my confused cat, waking me around 9:30 AM, because the alarm did not go off at 6:30 AM. He kneaded my arm, sneezed in my face and tried to bite my nose. Ain't sleeping in grand?
So, Mr. Blue Eyes asked me the next day if I wanted to go canoeing. He silently rowed and I talked nonstop. Wandering in a meadow and along the shore resulted in two kisses. They say silent waters run deep. I say they run fast. It was quickly apparent to our cohorts that we were an item.
I don't remember with whom I rode to get to the cabin, but I rode back with A. on his motorcycle. J., the host, helped me don the required motorcycle helmet. I thought at the time, my he is sweet. With time I learned J. was actually sweet on A. Totally unknown to A. I was a means to and end. O dear.
My solitary existence suddenly exploded. This little nobody was fielding the amorous intentions of A., from the cabin, J. in pursuit of A., a much younger co-worker, and ? a fellow student from confirmation class. Mercy me. It is a shame I couldn't bottle and sell whatever was attracting them all! To top it off, a former flame met while bar hopping decided maybe he was interested in me.
How, you may ask, did I know J. was sweet on A.? J.'s modus operandi was to double date with us, try to wrestle with A. during group get togethers, to have a hissy fit if A. did not come to every one of J.'s plays, to tell me all A. wanted from me was sex and, paradoxically, to share with me his fantasies about the three of us abed.
A.'s modus operandi was to go to square dance classes with me every Friday night. And yes, dear darling J. would be there too. Square dancing is good, clean fun. I enjoyed buying the twirly dresses, fluffy petticoats, and ruffly. mid thigh, flirty undergarments. And gold dancing slippers. It didn't hurt that after the class there would be a pot luck with lots of casseroles and desserts. Every Friday night we had fun dancing, eating, and laughing with people about our age. A. and I tried to find a square dance group where we presently live, but, dare I say it? Everybody was so OLD!!
A year of dating and squaring dancing quickly slipped away. During that time I learned this fella really, really, doesn't talk much. One of the current popular songs was "He's So Shy!" That worked for me. More on his reticence later. It was hard to resist a handsome, blue eyed sweetie that kept coming back.
I learned that he was younger than me. I guess the Vietnam War picked off a lot of candidates my age. I was pondering my encroaching senility while we were driving to Rochester to visit his friends, and I heard A. propose some blueprints for a house. A house for us. I asked him if this was his way of proposing. He continued to concentrate on the road, and said it was. Visions of nursing homes fled from my head and I said, "Well alrighty then!" Or something equally emphatic.
I wanted to do the deed right quick. My romantic man wanted to wait until the following January for tax purposes. Many a time I filled the ear of any friend who would listen with, "For tax purposes!!! Can you believe it????" It dawned on me the person with whom I should be griping was A. I duly did so. He said, "OK then. When do you want to get married?" I replied, "In two weeks."
More later. Time to practice juggling.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Psalm 46:10
"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."
Time to catch up a bit with the past. I met my North Dakota man by one of the lakes in The Land of 10,000 Lakes. I had just broken off a relationship with a man from Northern India, and I was done with men. When I received my hand-me-down of a hand-me-down of a hand-me-down invitation to the lake cabin, I went for the lake, not the social experience.
To explain the "hand-me-down" bit; I was part of the Josten's Catalog Card Company (CCC) group of single people. The other local groups were the Concordia College graduates group and the Unisys group. Some people belonged to two of the groups, thereby creating an overlap. For example, V. belonged to the Concordia group and the CCC group, and J. belonged to the Concordia and the Unisys groups. J. was going to use his parents' cabin in northern Minnesota for a weekend with his friends. He invited people from the Concordia group and the Unisys group. M., who knew J. from Concordia got invited, but she could not go. She recommended that J. invite V. V. could not make it, so she suggested that J. invite little ol' me, from the CCC group.
We, the invited, were to rendezvous at M.'s Minneapolis apartment and then head to the cabin together in a caravan. All in all a pretty amazing event in the days before cell phones. We waited and waited, but ended up leaving Minneapolis for the lake sans one invitee. It was dark and the mosquitoes were ferocious when we arrived at our destination. And there was the missing member of our merry band. A. said he had been at M.'s apartment and he had rung the bell several times and nobody answered. He made the executive decision to head north alone. We caught him just before he was going to give up and go home. Turns out the doorbell was broken. O dear.
Since we were all present and accounted for, our next goal was to transport our luggage from our vehicles to the rowboat to the cabin. This took some teamwork on all our parts. I knew everyone else from the group except A. I was totally done with men and wanted to get any introductions over. As we passed one another, hauling and loading our gear, I said, "Hello I'm Susan, who are you?" I said this with all the warm, engaged, excited interest I would presently grant a vampire bat. No, I am not fond of bats. He said his name was A. and we continued our quest.
Eventually our meld of Concordia, Unisys and CCC people were settled into the cabin. Turns out they all were avid card players, except me. I perched on top of a nearby bunk-bed and watched the action. How very odd. A. was winning all the games. He had a haircut that faithfully mimicked the bowl someone must have place on his head and used as a trimming guide. A. had long bangs that came straight down to his blue eyes. Despite winning every game, he still had time to peek up at me. Pretty often, too.
To be continued!! Today's treasure was any part I played in helping an autistic second grader to stay in his classroom, rather than running in the hall, out to the playground, or, heaven forbid, away from the school.
"Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."
Time to catch up a bit with the past. I met my North Dakota man by one of the lakes in The Land of 10,000 Lakes. I had just broken off a relationship with a man from Northern India, and I was done with men. When I received my hand-me-down of a hand-me-down of a hand-me-down invitation to the lake cabin, I went for the lake, not the social experience.
To explain the "hand-me-down" bit; I was part of the Josten's Catalog Card Company (CCC) group of single people. The other local groups were the Concordia College graduates group and the Unisys group. Some people belonged to two of the groups, thereby creating an overlap. For example, V. belonged to the Concordia group and the CCC group, and J. belonged to the Concordia and the Unisys groups. J. was going to use his parents' cabin in northern Minnesota for a weekend with his friends. He invited people from the Concordia group and the Unisys group. M., who knew J. from Concordia got invited, but she could not go. She recommended that J. invite V. V. could not make it, so she suggested that J. invite little ol' me, from the CCC group.
We, the invited, were to rendezvous at M.'s Minneapolis apartment and then head to the cabin together in a caravan. All in all a pretty amazing event in the days before cell phones. We waited and waited, but ended up leaving Minneapolis for the lake sans one invitee. It was dark and the mosquitoes were ferocious when we arrived at our destination. And there was the missing member of our merry band. A. said he had been at M.'s apartment and he had rung the bell several times and nobody answered. He made the executive decision to head north alone. We caught him just before he was going to give up and go home. Turns out the doorbell was broken. O dear.
Since we were all present and accounted for, our next goal was to transport our luggage from our vehicles to the rowboat to the cabin. This took some teamwork on all our parts. I knew everyone else from the group except A. I was totally done with men and wanted to get any introductions over. As we passed one another, hauling and loading our gear, I said, "Hello I'm Susan, who are you?" I said this with all the warm, engaged, excited interest I would presently grant a vampire bat. No, I am not fond of bats. He said his name was A. and we continued our quest.
Eventually our meld of Concordia, Unisys and CCC people were settled into the cabin. Turns out they all were avid card players, except me. I perched on top of a nearby bunk-bed and watched the action. How very odd. A. was winning all the games. He had a haircut that faithfully mimicked the bowl someone must have place on his head and used as a trimming guide. A. had long bangs that came straight down to his blue eyes. Despite winning every game, he still had time to peek up at me. Pretty often, too.
To be continued!! Today's treasure was any part I played in helping an autistic second grader to stay in his classroom, rather than running in the hall, out to the playground, or, heaven forbid, away from the school.
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