unibrow

Every girl waits in great anticipation for her physical beauty to emerge; those womanly curves, the alluring walk, the face that will one day capture a man’s heart in true love… For a ten-year-old it seems the process will take way too long, she wants to be beautiful now. The biggest obstacle to my emerging beauty at that age was my unibrow. I inherited it from my Dad and it was a great embarrassment to me. My mother assured me that she would teach me how to tweeze and shape my brows, when I was old enough… Now what child likes to hear those words, I ask you?

One Saturday evening I was asked to sit at the neighbor’s apartment upstairs and just keep an eye on their sleeping baby while they went out for awhile. I took a good book and settled in for a quiet evening. As I read, I started playing with my brows and started pulling out a few hairs. It didn’t take much effort, I pulled out more… and more. I read and pulled all evening, probably a good two hours or so, getting pretty excited thinking how gorgeous I was becoming. When the neighbors came home, their cautious stares at my face told me that they noticed my new-found beauty, too. I could hardly wait for the next morning to see my grown-up look. It was late, so when I went home I slipped into bed quietly in the dark.

Sunday morning my brother was the first to notice and exclaimed “What happened to you?” Boys, especially little brothers, just don’t understand the ways of women. I checked myself out in the mirror. Horror of horrors, what had I done? Instead of beautiful, feminine, alluring brows, the unibrow was still there only now with a huge gap over each eye! I wasn’t one step closer to womanliness, I was a freak!

My brothers were free with their chides, but Mother was compassionate. She didn’t make me go to church that morning, and until it grew back she filled it in with an eyebrow pencil for me every morning. The unibrow wasn’t as bad after that, I had learned that it could be worse. I reluctantly realized some things would just have to wait. My tweezers became my welcome friend when I was twelve, along with the most crucial companion tool, a mirror…

The Purpose of Life

As I was growing up, I thought of life as a test, even an ordeal. The best way to succeed was to forge ahead, don’t make mistakes, try hard, get through it fast, not turn to the right or the left, and never slow down to enjoy the journey (to stop and smell the roses) because that would waste valuable time. This was a big mistake.

I have since realized that that way of thinking, while it may not waste much time, can be the waste of a perfectly good life. We get one chance at this life and life is SO good, we each need to find the most joy in it that is possible. And so I now believe that the purpose of life is to learn how to live. And I don’t mean just how to stay alive, but how to truly live. It is sort of like the idea of becoming a parent is so you will learn, through your experiences, how to be a parent. Because life is the process of learning how to live, we may make many mistakes along the way. We try things and find they don’t work; we try other things and discover they work well, so we keep them in our lives. We are taught in our families and in our communities; we learn from our circumstances. We watch and learn from the examples of others. And so, over the years, by trial and error, we eventually find our own way, what works best for us, and we learn how to live, and how to be happy. And our life is very good. Some are quick learners, they have it all together (or so it would seem). There are some of us who spend a lifetime learning how to live because the lessons of life need to be taught to us again and again until they finally sink in.
There are really very few things we need to learn in our lives: who we are (and how to become our best selves), how to use our agency (making choices), how to manage the world around us (fulfilling our physical needs), and how to relate with other human beings (how to love and be loved, how to forgive, etc. so as to fill our emotional needs). More on these in the coming days.

The DeSoto

The DeSoto

I have often wondered if I came into the world with the notion that I could get through life unscathed if all I did was hold still and mind my own business. That notion was nonsense, of course, for no one can hold still and mind their own business for very long, least of all an infant. At any rate, any such notions were shattered big time when I was just a few months old and events happened that came to be known as the story of the DeSoto. Of course I was much too young to remember these events, but I have heard accounts since I was young.

My mother’s father, George, was not a wealthy man, not by any means, (he made his living working for U&I Sugar Company). But as he got older (only 2 of his 9 children left at home) he managed to save up enough money to buy a brand new car, a DeSoto. He loved that car, it was his pride and joy, and it made him a very proud man. But, as they say, pride goeth before the fall, and my mother, seeing a “fall” in the works, became very concerned. She was so concerned that she made it a matter of prayer for many weeks. As it happened, she and I went to visit them for a couple of weeks while my dad was away and her concerns were confirmed.

One morning we went for a ride in the DeSoto, taking my aunt to her job at the hospital in a nearby town. On the way back from the hospital, the sun shone on my face and I started to cry. Believing all was well on a straight stretch of road, she reached over to cover my face, lost control of the car and we rolled into a ditch. Those were the days before seat belts and infant seats and we took quite the tumble, mother cut her hands on broken glass and I broke both my legs, just above the knees. The car was without insurance and was totaled. The car was the least of anyone’s immediate concern, for all had to work together to take care of the baby girl in traction in the hospital for the next few weeks.

Naturally, my mother felt horrible about what happened. It may appear that that was a cruel way to answer her prayers. I soon forgot the trauma of the incident, my legs healed nicely and I learned to walk by age 2. I have had no problems with them since. But the DeSoto was gone.

Many years later, George, in an unusually sentimental moment, confided to my mother that the accident, losing the DeSoto, was the best thing that ever happened to him. Hindsight let him realize, too, that he had been headed for a “fall” because of his pride.

I find it very comforting to know that God hears our prayers and from His perfect knowledge knows the perfect ways to answer our pleadings. I was privileged to be a part of it then, and many times since.

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Life is Good

Many years ago, I’m guessing at least 30, I heard a report on the evening news about a couple who had a baby boy born with a terribly crippling genetic defect. Since there was a high probability it would happen again to future children, the father had a vasectomy. The vasectomy wasn’t successful, however, and she got pregnant again. She had an abortion. The abortion wasn’t successful, however, and she had another baby boy with the same genetic defect as their first son. The couple went to court to sue the doctors for the botched procedures. As tragic as this whole course of events seemed, the court ruled against the couple, declaring that life is inherently good. I remind myself of that ruling from time to time when life seems too hard to be good. I remind myself to focus on the tremendous amount of good in my life; I take a deep breath to feel the joy of being able to breathe; and then I muster the courage to go on, with hope for the future. For no matter what lies ahead, life is inherently good, and it is mostly very good!

Fifty-five

Tomorrow is my birthday. I will be 55 years old. Sometimes I feel like I am still 6 and my life has been one very long session of “playing grown-up”. I want to be 6 again. I want to be carefree, innocent. Except then I would have to go through all that troublesome growing up again; there are life lessons to be learned, after all. And so I have been thinking, what exactly have I learned these fifty-five years? Who have I become because of the lessons life has taught me? I will share these life lessons with you, one a day, for the next fifty-five days. Some lessons are very profound, some are not. They won’t be in any particular order, and most of them you have probably already learned in your own way through your own experiences, so I doubt they will be anything new or earth-shattering. So, really, I do this for me, not for you, to somehow quantify these fifty-five years of living, to remind myself that they have had purpose and meaning, or maybe even to remind myself that I have purpose and meaning. I invite you along for the ride…

cake update

So last night the cake was very popular, it must have been the perfect choice to go with a nice taco dinner. I watched as everyone dished up their own BIG pieces, then had seconds, some of them thirds! Three small pieces left, I'd be OK...unless... what if someone ate them for breakfast! I would fix a breakfast so wonderful, so filling, no one would ask for the cake. Whew, it worked!
But all this talk of cake has made you crave it, or at least wonder about it (Jamie). So here's the recipe:

CHOCOLATE PRALINE CAKE

In heavy saucepan, melt together: ½ Cup butter ¼ Cup whipping cream 1 Cup brown sugar

Pour into 9x13 pan. Sprinkle 1 C. chopped pecans evenly over caramel mixture. Prepare devil’s food cake mix as directed on package and spoon carefully into pan(s), beginning around edges first. Bake at 325 50-60 minutes. Cool 5 minutes, then invert onto a serving plate. Cool. Serve with whipped cream.

vacation

I baked my favorite cake this morning. It is to serve at our family dinner tonight (my son and his family usually join us for dinner on Sundays). I chose this recipe ostensibly because I happen to have cream on hand (not usually in my frig, but a necessary ingredient for this particular cake). But I really chose it because tomorrow begins my vacation! Tomorrow morning I will see my loved ones off to different destinations leaving me alone in the house! Nearly five whole days to do what I want, when I want; to eat what I want, when I want (hence my favorite cake--perhaps for breakfast every morning with the daily crossword puzzle?!?). You may think that I won't know what to do with myself. Oh, I know! I have grand plans for long walks, good books, knitting... Except for taking the dog to the vet one afternoon and bringing in the mail for a neighbor, this week is all mine. I feel like doing something wild and daring (my daughter reminded me not to get a tattoo). Maybe I will finally get up the nerve to buy the roller blades I've had my eye on for several years now. Maybe I will settle for cake for breakfast every morning. I hope no one has seconds at dinner tonight... but wait, even that is OK, I will just make myself another cake!

New Dresses

The navy polka-dot was fabric from Grandma's stash; the dress was to fit the pattern for adjustments, but it worked well (after two re-dos) and she wore it to the NHS induction ceremony in May. We used the same pattern for the white dress she needed to be a junior escort for high school graduation (the top 10% of the junior class served as escorts to the seniors at their graduation ceremony---she ranks #3 in her class, what a girl!). The eyelet jumper is a cooperative design of our own. It turned out lovely and there was enough fabric left to make a matching dress for her niece. (which two-year-old Mia refuses to wear...)

Happy Fathers Day!

Happy Fathers Day to all of you Dads out there! Hooray for you and all you do to provide for, protect, and preside over your families. To those Dads who tell made-up bedtime stories, who enjoy playing catch with their little ones as much as watching the big game, who go to parks and zoos, camping and fishing; who teach the joy of hard work and the satisfaction of a job well-done, who are not afraid of dirty dishes and diapers, or of shedding tears; who admit your mistakes and forgive others of theirs, who listen more than lecture; to you who are doing your best to keep your priorities strait, to you for whom each child is a precious treasure and their mother the best thing that ever happened to you: you're doing great, Dad!

hackeysack

Custom order hackey sack for Colby College soccer team in Maine

Quilt, receiving blanket, booties

"Noah's Ark" quilt, receiving blanket, and booties for baby Noah Hemphill