You're Old

A tiny little person with whom I was having a chat recently declared, "You're old."  At first, I thought she was looking at someone else as she said it, but I quickly realized that she meant me.  You know you've crossed the bridge into adulthood when a five-year-old, with conviction, determines that you are old.  Her slightly older brother then asked me if I was 90.  He admitted to wanting to live to be over 1,000 years old.  I recall being their age and thinking that anyone over 25 was "old" (50 years of age was downright ancient), but it was astounding to realize that I was now at that tender age to be among the oldsters myself.  Then, I thought about the many illnesses I have experienced in my adulthood, illnesses that could have ended or at least altered the quality of my life.  There were many times when I sincerely wondered if I would get to the point when I would consider myself old.  So, I chuckled at the little cherub's honest observation and decided that I had blissfully arrived after all.

He Takes the Cake

I know a man who, on the surface, would seem to me to like working on cars, riding motorcycles and hunting.  And perhaps he does like to do all of those things.  I have no idea.  But what I learned recently was what a passionate and talented baker he is.  When he talked with me about what he bakes, I could hear the great passion in his voice for his creations and the tremendous talent he possesses in making complex treats that are almost too beautiful to eat.  Then, I saw one of his cakes and was amazed by the many dimensions and facets to it -- a colorful, meticulously done, three-dimensional scene that included elaborate cookies as part of it.  I encountered another man recently who had made beautiful and delicious cakes for his mother's birthday party.  Larry and I tasted his creations, which were moist pound cakes heaping with frosting and bisected by various delicious fillings.  What I learned from both of those men is that we all have passions, talents and gifts that bring out the very best in us.  Sometimes, those talents are a surprise to others, but not to those who possess them.  Those talents are part of their being, and I am blessed to witness them living and sharing their passions.

Paper Cut Season

My skin is so dry this winter, mainly the skin on my face and hands, those areas that get exposed to the elements.  I slather on some great fair trade lotion made with coconut oil as often as possible and I carry a tin of herbal salve in my purse to lubricate my hands, but my fingers still get dry and prone to the sting of paper cuts.  My hands seem to perpetually be covered with little bandages to protect and heal those cuts, which usually are located in inconvenient spots, such as the tender web between my fingers.  I'll know it'll officially be spring, not by the calendar, not by the sky, not by the temperature, but by the volume (or lack thereof) of paper cuts!

The Road More Traveled

I attended a meeting earlier this month to hear more about the next phase of four-lane highway construction taking place near our community.  It's taken several years, but the old two-lane state highway is becoming a four-lane expressway with many a roundabout to help you get off to slower-paced travel on two-lane roads and city streets.  The next phase of development will go past the property where I grew up and cut across miles of private land, changing the way we live with and traverse our countryside.  The meeting room was packed with interested and concerned parties who listened to the various speakers explaining the construction route and timeline.  I have lived in this community all of my life, save time away for college and brief stints in Colorado and Madison.  What happens in this community and affects the people who live here resonates deep inside of me.  Once the new highway construction is all done, we will adjust and probably forget what it had been like before the four-lane wonder, but that evening, the road more traveled had some concerned citizens sitting straight in their chairs, listening intently to the effects of change on our lives.

Make Me Laugh

We hadn't read the notice in our last cable bill, so it came as a surprise when about a dozen of our channels turned to static about a month ago.  We called the cable supplier, only to find out that those 12 or so channels had been converted from analog format to digital.  We still have old televisions.  I just can't seem to part with them until they truly bite the dust.  It seems too wasteful for my tastes.  Therefore, our old TVs weren't going to pick up the digital channels, only the analog. So, Larry arranged with our cable provider to get two converter boxes and remotes.  We're now able to watch more channels than we've had in a long time, including the additional channels offered by our local ABC and PBS affiliates.  One of the ABC channels features old television shows from as far back as the 1960s and 1970s, such as "The Bob Newhart Show," "I Dream of Jeannie," "The Dick Van Dyke Show," and "The Odd Couple."  One night, we caught a bit of a current-day situational comedy and then turned channels to the old sitcoms.  I have to admit that while today's shows are entertaining and interesting, the old shows felt like an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.  They were comfortable, familiar and cozy.  The jokes were more predictable, to be sure, but the shows reflected a purity not seen on television these days.  I found myself laughing, really laughing, and enjoying every minute of it.

For the Birds

My dear friend Betty has a love of animals and birds.  Betty has adopted stray cats and rescued struggling dogs.  Although she's not out and about as she used to be, attracting new four-legged members to her animal family, she is still attracting birds to her lovely front and back yards.  Just recently, she told me about getting two spent Christmas trees delivered by men from the village in which she lives.  She uses the castaway trees to provide shelter to the many songbirds that visit her birdfeeders.  One is placed in the front yard and one in the back near the feeders until spring arrives.  Thoughtful friends and neighbors keep the feeders filled so that the birds always have dinner.  Betty said in a recent phone conversation that she was watching the birds darting in and out of the old Christmas trees to her feeders and back again as we talked.  Such an act is kind and loving to her myriad winged friends, but it also provides Betty with great joy as she spends her afternoons in her comfortable chair positioned in the living room window.  Betty's tender heart for God's creatures is, thankfully, for the birds.

Pure Artistry

I really enjoy rubbing elbows with experts, listening to the knowledge they can so easily impart about their fields of expertise.  You see, I'm not an expert about anything.  I'm a generalist, so I know little bits and pieces about several things, but not a lot about any one thing.  Recently, as I listened to my husband Larry converse with others in the arts, it underscored my belief that he is an expert in his field, and the way he conveys and uses his expertise is pure artistry.  I then thought about the clinicians with whom I work at our local hospital and how, after years of education and experience, they have a wealth of information about health and wellness, disease management and prevention, surgical procedures and diagnostic tests.  I also thought of the elementary school physical education teacher I watched recently who imparted knowledge to his students with finesse about how our bodies work, always keeping their interest and harnessing their tireless energies.   All of these folks are experts in their fields, in my viewpoint, who have worked hard to earn such expertise and now use it to contribute to the greater good.  What a gift to us all.