Archive for August, 2010

The Sign

// August 30th, 2010 // 20 Comments » // Faith, Family, My Fabulous Life

For over 30 years, this sign hung at Mom and Dad’s trailer on the river summer home in Wisconsin. Even after Dad died nearly 14 years ago (seriously? that long?), Mom left the sign up. It was still “The Charles Wilsons” (doesn’t that need an apostrophe?) and oh, how he loved this place. He drove up there by himself in the few years before Mom retired, just to fish and putsy in the yard and in his shed like (some) men do. Organizing nails and screws in the baby food jars and painting outlines of tools and fishing poles on the walls, so we’d know exactly where to put things back in their proper place.

He was an organizer, not a pile-er.

So it was with great emotion that my eldest requested to have the sign when Mom sold the place and we moved her home for all future summers. There was considerable decrapification of the place, but that sign was something that Ben wanted. Ron Burgundy made the very last shot for the end-of-the-river video with the sign propped on his truck. It was finished.

Last night Abby (best DIL ever) emailed me and said “Did you take the Charles Wilson sign? Ben really wants it.” I assured her we would bring it when we go to see them next weekend. I reminded RB, and he went out to his truck to get it and put it in my car.

It was gone.

We looked everywhere. In the truck, under all the “stuff” (next decrapification process), in the garage. He couldn’t really remember taking it off the edge of the truck bed, but in looking at the video again, it was hard to believe that it would actually stay there and not fall in the driveway when we pulled out.

I confessed the loss to Mom, and she looked in the driveway, street, and garage. This morning she drove down the street, looking carefully on the pavement for any sign of the sign. Nowhere. In the back of my mind, I knew it had to show up, but I was just sick that this memory so precious to my son was lost. “It’s only stuff” I kept telling myself, but my heart ached, because I knew his would. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him, and thought of everything from having a new sign made and dragging it behind my car in attempt to age it, to just simply delaying the inevitable with “I forgot – I’ll bring it next time.” Hurting someone for the sake of being honest has never been one of my spiritual gifts.

Today my mom’s pastor stopped by to see her. And what was in her hand?

The sign.

While on his way to work this morning, her husband glanced at a yard sign advertising a local church festival that was posted at a busy intersection. On the sign hung “The Charles Wilsons” sign. He thought to himself “I’ve seen that sign before.” They had been up to Mom’s two weeks before for a visit. He emailed his wife about it, she stopped, picked it up and ran it over to Mom’s, a couple blocks away. Someone had apparently found it and hung it on the festival sign. She called me from Mom’s to tell me the lost had been found.

Once again I was in awe of God’s humor and timing. And admittedly a little annoyed that He was messing with me again. Why would someone bother to carefully place a 30+ year old weathered sign there? How did Paul ever notice it at that crazy intersection at 7:30 in the morning? And even more astonishing, how did he ever remember it? He had never been to her place until two weeks ago. Honestly, I knew the sign was there, but don’t remember actually seeing it for the past several years.

Mom called after Pastor Melissa left and I asked her – “How did he ever remember seeing that sign?” to which she said “He has a photogenic mind.”

Oh-kkaaay, Mom. I know you meant photographic memory.

The strange thing about that statement is that a BFF of mine mixed the photographic memory/photogenic mind thing up about 15 years ago, and we laugh at it every now and then, at her expense of course. (If you’re popping in to read this, A, love you)!

Ahhh, memories. Lovely misconstrued memories. I hope Ben paints an outline of the sign on the wall before he hangs it up so everyone knows exactly where it should go.

Tea today: Yogi Muscle Recovery (don’t ask)

Tasty Bites: Toasted Israeli Couscous with Grilled Vegetables

// August 27th, 2010 // 3 Comments » // Functional Foodie, Tasty Bites

Israeli couscous is a fun pasta to add variety to meals. Let’s make the summer hang on with some more grilling over at Ginny’s Tasty Bites.

Tea today: Dilmah Ceylon Green

Tasty Bites: Seared Sea Scallops with Grilled Stuffed Peppers

// August 20th, 2010 // 2 Comments » // My Fabulous Life, Tasty Bites

Plain, simple foods are often the best, especially when they’re fresh. As much as I love herbs and spices, sometimes just enhancing the natural delicious flavors with a little sea salt is my favorite way to go. That’s what I did here in this simple supper. Make the jump to Ginny’s Tasty Bites and let’s grill!

Tea today: Numi Monkey King

Tasty Bites: Summer’s Bounty Cucumbers

// August 13th, 2010 // 2 Comments » // Functional Foodie, Tasty Bites

saladRemember the “family reunion cucumbers” Aunt Blondie inevitably brought? Every. Single. Year? Yep, me too. They were good, but when I was given a huge bag of cukes the other day I thought they needed a little more flair. Jump to Ginny’s Tasty Bites and see how I zinged these cukes up for summer!

Tea today: Stash Ginger Peach

Confessions of a Former Clothes Horse

// August 12th, 2010 // 13 Comments » // Faith, My Fabulous Life

Image: randomly found on Internet with no source

Something happened to my closet. It resembles the inside of the barn of a washed-up clothes horse.

There was a time I took pride in the arrangement of my clothes – tops hung in order of sleeve length with colors from light to dark in neat rows, fronts facing the same direction. Pants hung, impeccably folded and creased, again, light to dark. It was probably too perfect, but it was convenient and orderly and predictable. Comfortable.

With the birth of each season I would frugally purchase four or five new pieces, careful that they could be mixed and matched with the existing ones, as if Garanimals and Ann Taylor had become one flesh. Every now and then I made an “investment” purchase – a pair of pants or a trendy blouse that cost five times what I considered acceptable, but usually purchased on sale, end of season, with an extra 30% off. I once bought a pair of toffee-colored wool dress pants for $18. Be impressed. They were $290 originally. And 6 years later, I still wear them. How many women say they have a pair of pants they can wear for three bucks a year?

In the mess and mayhem that life brings, the clothes horse has escaped the barn. It has been years since I have been to the mall to actually shop for clothes. Even my future DIL picked out my dress for their wedding and had it sent to me. If she liked it, it’s more than good enough for me. I find multiple reasons to avoid malling. I have morphed into the Old Gray Mare of the fashion industry and instead sport early-millennium-shabby-not-even-close-to chic attire.

It is what it is, and it isn’t pretty.

The outward appearance doesn’t matter much to me, but I hate what it does inside sometimes. Face it, most women want to sparkle and shine, and when the dullness of the pre-dawn reflection looks back and screams drab re-run, it sometimes soaks from the outside in. For a moment it sucks out your grace and poise and posture and the weight of it leaves you sway-backed, slumped, and listlessly swatting your tail against the closet door (insert high-pitched whinny here).

So you grab the toffee pants (yes, I know it’s summer and they’re wool) and the worn-heeled flats and the brown snagged sweater and you tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You struggle to look beyond the image in your head and heart and mirror. You don’t see what you want to see, so you look away. You tell yourself you’ll look again when it’s back to … shiny.

And you giddy-up about your day, distracting yourself with thoughts of unicorns ridden by fairy princesses because there are things to do, obligations to meet, expectations to fulfill, people to please. There are people who hurt deeper and ache for things like a roof or bread or water. Those are the people who have never seen the sparkle or felt the shine of His unconditional love for them. And you realize you need to go a bit deeper to mine a little shine of your own, buff off that pride, and get back in the saddle. So you sort of lose yourself in lonely busyness and somehow the deep whinnying sigh in the closet-barn that morning is a hundred years ago and really, it makes not a bit of horse sense. It’s prideful and selfish and serves no purpose so it’s time to buck up little buckaroo and move along now.

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

1 Corinthians 13:12

Tea today: Stash Green and White Fusion

Tasty Bites: Quinoa Salad with Black Beans and Corn

// August 6th, 2010 // 3 Comments » // Functional Foodie, Tasty Bites

It’s sweet corn season here in Iowa, and contrary to popular belief, we don’t just munch on the cobs here. I love to find yummy recipes for our local crops, and this is one of my favorites. Whenever I can, I use fresh Iowa sweet corn, but if you don’t have any, frozen will do. Hop over to Ginny’s Tasty Bites and try another one of my favorite salads made with a grain you may not have tried!

Tea today: Stash Ginger Peach