A Likely Story: A Fine Memory Archives

Head on Straight

My girls have a finely tuned sense of humor. They are especially keen at puns (Nathan, The Pun King, would be impressed), in both understanding and creating them. Being children, anything that has to do with the body or can elicit a squeal of disgust from their mother is quite satisfying, as well.

We recently purchased the book Parts by Tedd Arnold. The nameless, ping-pong-eyed boy is filled with angst over the deconstruction of his body. When some gray, gooey, unidentifiable object slips from his nose, he fears his brain is falling out. The lint in his navel? He's losing his stuffing. The girls found this book quite hysterical, so when we saw Even More Parts, we knew we had to get it. It ended up being a late night, so I set the book (along with several others) next to K's bed, intending to read them tonight before our chapter in Mary Poppins Comes Back.

K took some time to peruse her new literature this morning. After lunch she brought Even More Parts to me, telling me it was "hilarious." This time, Mr. Arnold explores those euphemisms that are often so puzzling to children. He accompanies the confusing idioms with amusing illustrations of the frantic, nameless, ping-pong-eyed boy imagining the literal effect of such sayings. We giggled over "I'm losing my mind," and " My nose is running." I turned the page and we laughed when the boy placed his screw-on arm and leg, complete with shod foot, onto the counter as the equally ping-pong-eyed cashier checked the drawer for change-- more arms and legs. Beneath the full-page illustrations are smaller ones with more bug-eyed cohorts enacting similar phrases, "I had to foot the bill," or "I had to pay through the nose." I paused as K then reached behind her, literally to her behind, screwed her face up and in pretended effort jerks her arm. She placed her fist in on the table, and opening it said, "I bet you my bottom dollar."

I fell to pieces laughing.

May I take a moment to say, I really, really, enjoy my kids?

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At Close of Day

Tonight after I finished praying with A, I opened my eyes and found hers watching me. I asked her if she had them open the entire time. She then told me that she could not help herself, that sometimes when I pray it sounds beautiful, like I am telling a story. My children compliment me in the most simple ways.

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Rae at 10:23 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack (0) | A Fine Memory

The other day one of my professors mentioned in passing "She Walks in Beauty" by Lord Byron. It was one of my favorites when I was in high school. I thanked him for the reminder.

She Walks in Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

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Rae at 10:32 AM | Comments (7) | TrackBack (0) | A Fine Memory

Night

My girls have always loved nature. One of their first ten words was moon, only they added an "er" to the end to form "mooner." They would reach toward the night sky with round arms, fattened by their mother's milk, and entice the moon with dimples and smiles and eyes blue as the noonday sky, calling to it so intimately and affectionately, "mooner, mooner." On the nights that the moon was full, I would raise the blinds in their room; its brillance bathing their slumber and allowing me to see more clearly the lids of their eyes flutter in sleep. I wondered what dreams filled the minds of my babes so tired out from the simple business of the day.

E is now my height; A to my chin; C following closely; and even baby K stands to my waist, but I still sometimes quietly stand next to their bed at night, when their breathing has slowed and watch them in the moonlight, and wonder what visions are there.

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What a sweet and beautiful memory!
The moon is quite inticing isn't it? Peaceful and calm and respectful are what I get from its light.

by Rachel Ann on September 18, 2005 12:30 AM

Rae, I think I remeber one of the girls saying "mooner!" T says it with an s on the end so its always "mommy where does the moons come from?" From God I reply. "Why does he not make it a diffent color?" I guess thats just the color that he liked best for the moon honey. That was the converstation I had with him on the way home from Grandma's. I love how kids mispronounce a word and it still sounds beautiful!

by Sally on September 19, 2005 12:16 AM

That is a beautiful memory. I think the moon can be very soothing and just peacful.

Rae, the way you talk about your girls is fantastic. I think you must be a wonderful mother; and those girls are blessed. :-)

by Audrey on September 19, 2005 01:32 AM

Rachel Ann- just what we need at night, eh?

Sally, you should remember, dear. You spent so much of their toddlerhood with us :D

Audrey, I'll let time be the judge of my mothering, but I will say this: these girls mean more to me than anything and I have to go to bed each night knowing that I have done my absolute best for them. It's not perfection (just read through the archives) but it is a determined work, interwoven with apologies when I am wrong and commitment to being better. Your words are encouraging to me, as well as my hope for them. Thank you :D

by Rae on September 19, 2005 08:12 AM

Such a sweet memory. Thank you for the imagery.

by Altar Girl on September 19, 2005 06:01 PM

This time of year, the moon's path takes it across all the windows in the bedrooms of our house. Your words remind me not so much of my loss, but of my wife's. FWIW, from what I see here, I agree with Audrey.

P.S. I share the following because of your previous help with fundraising for mammograms at my website. The Breast Cancer Site is having trouble getting enough people to click on their site daily to meet their quota of donating at least one free mammogram a day to an underprivileged woman. It takes less than a minute to go to their site and click on "donating a mammogram" for free (pink window in the middle). This doesn't cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate mammograms in exchange for advertising. Here's the web site: The BreastCancer Site. Pass it along to people you know: Funds go to the same charitable foundation that my fundraisers support, and they help get mammograms for people who otherwise could not afford one, many of them mothers of children.

by Greg on September 21, 2005 07:30 AM

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Rae at 09:44 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0) | A Fine Memory

Playground

Having a few afternoon errands to complete, I left C and K in E's charge. A accompanied me to pick-up prescriptions and to get a new muffler. We waited in the office and made small talk with the wives of the shop owners. A noted the quieter drive home.

As I approached my house, I saw a huge crowd of girls. They were all just hanging around talking, some on bikes, others on scooters, still more languishing on the porch. I got out of the van and was swarmed. They were desperate. They needed ideas for play. Now.

I reached into my own bag of childhood memories and pulled out a few suggestions: Red Rover, Red Rover; Red Light/Green Light; Four Square; Jump Rope; Kick Ball.

They decided on Red Light/Green Light. To settle the "I wanna be the light first" issue, I thought going from youngest to oldest would work well. They quickly determined the order of turns and so now the song of giggles is blowing through the open windows.

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Rae at 05:39 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0) | A Fine Memory

The comforting smell of roasting chicken, peppers, shallots, and garlic; the thunder scoffing and grumbling; the rain tickling the windows; Susan Graham lulling us into a pre-dinner stupor; the children drawing, coloring, painting; the flow of random thoughts from E...these are the rich colors upon the canvas of my soul.

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Rae at 07:08 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack (0) | A Fine Memory

First and Fourteen

Tomorrow my first born will be fourteen. Fourteen. I keep thinking of it in terms of how little time I have left with her, that day-to-day time that allows me to quietly watch her. I swear I can see her growing, like time-lapse photography. I see her cheeks rising like the tide; her body lengthening as the afternoon shadows; her mind wrapping itself around the world, selectively embracing and carefully rejecting theories and philosophies she finds reasonable or repugnant.

She has a wonderful balance of compassion and justice, logic and emotion, value and frugality, of faith and intellect. She was the first to fill my womb; nurse from my breast; the first one in whom I saw my own eyes and toes, heard my own laugh. In seconds breathed slowly over years, months, days, minutes, I am seeing them become her own distinct characteristics, changing from pieces of me and her father to the wholeness of her.

And to be a whole person is what I most desire for her. Happy Birthday, Baby. I love you more than I will ever be able to express.

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Rae at 12:21 PM | Comments (7) | TrackBack (0) | A Fine Memory

Cherubim

I drove E and C up The Mountain this afternoon to deliver them to a week of camp. While navigating a straight stretch guarded by Aspens and speckled with the sunlight that danced through their "quaking leaves," I mentioned how much I enjoyed these trees. E said they reminded her of Proginoskes: "Because of all the eyes, mom." Of course, I thought.

I smiled and tucked away the satisfaction of knowing exactly to whom my daughter was referring.

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Rae at 12:19 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0) | A Fine Memory

Glorious

E went to leadership camp to receive training to be a counselor at our church camp. Typically, a teen must complete two years before they are given the opportunity to counsel campers. This year a shortage of high school-aged trained teen leaders opened up the opportunity for first year trainees to help.

E was one of the first year girls selected to counsel the remaining two weeks of camp. She is a wonderful girl- mature both cognitively and spiritually. She is kind, considerate, capable. She was humbled and excited to be asked. Upon returning home from her own week of camp, she immediately began to gather resources to prepare for leading her potential young charges in devotional thought.

The first three weeks of her summer were spent helping at UCYC. She helped cook, serve, and clean, making friends and a few dollars in the process. Because of travel schedules overlapping, I saw her for about two days, and then she was off again. When she walked through the door on Friday afternoon, she was taller, tanner, and the honey-highlights in her hair gleamed in the sun. That evening, we stood back-to-back, heel-to-heel at exactly the same height: 5'8½.

E is in that beautiful transition from girl to young woman. Someone once said of her, "She doesn't walk anywhere, she floats." That was when she was a mere 10 years old. She does so even more gloriously now.

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Rae at 12:48 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack (0) | A Fine Memory

Bugged

As if a dog and three (we adopted Polecat and his name is George) cats weren't enough, C went tadpole collecting with her best girlfriend and for the past three weeks they have been observing them grow legs and lose their tails, and occasionally their lives. They have generously shared several pollywogs with a chosen few friends, and just this morning, A celebrated her personal baby toad's leap into adulthood: Skipperdee now has fully grown legs.

I came home from an errand to find that they had also paired a female cricket (such knowledge gathered by observation of her obvious ovipositor) with a male (known by his lack of said ovipositor) in K's bug box. The male hasn't stopped chirping. I think I may have seen the female yawn.

Between my little veterinarian and her littler-sister-entomologist-to-be, I think I am quickly running out of home. And maybe nerves.

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Rae at 04:48 PM | Comments (6) | A Fine Memory

Dwell

The ceremony is over; the marriage begun. Two architects are now united in the design of the relationship of their lives.

I didn't break until I, having the designation of telling everyone in the wedding party when to enter the church, directed the groomsmen and pastor into the chapel. I closed the door, allowing for a slight pause before my brother entered. I looked at him and saw him not in that moment, but in a continuum of the past 24 years. He smiled at me- that big grin, eyes dancing. I told him I loved him, and he said, "I love you, too, sister." He then stepped into the moment of his life. I quickly blinked and readied myself for ushering in the girls.

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Rae at 01:06 PM | Comments (2) | A Fine Memory

Sad Goodbye

Patrick is hanging-up his blogging hat.

He will be missed.

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Rae at 08:54 AM | Comments (3) | A Fine Memory

Water into Wine

Rebuilding a blog takes some time, so I expect the banner to be back up soon, as well as the other little trinkets I collected over the past two years (next month). Ahem, and uh, the "Blogs for Bush" button will be over there, too.

At the suggestion of a friend, I picked up Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. I must confess that I rarely read the introductions in books, but the title "Just This Side of Byzantium" grabbed my eyes and demanded my attention. I have returned to this paragraph several times since reading it last evening:

"I was gathering images all my life, storing them away, and forgetting them. Somehow, I had to send myself back, with words as catalysts, to open the memories out and see what they had to offer."

I desperately need a sweet distraction at this time in my life, and thanks to the recommendation from the friend, I think I have found it.

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Rae at 10:44 PM | Comments (5) | A Fine Memory

Now I lay me down to sleep

I fell asleep with C and K tonight. This is the second glorious evening in a row that I have been able to read to them before bed as the previous nights have been stolen away by dress rehearsals, performances, adjudicatory notes.

Last night the three of us lay on K's bed. I had the middle so as to allow for equal opportunity and access. They brought four books to me and we read three:

Olivia (One simply cannot dislike Oliva, nor can one not help but wonder at and admire Ian Falconer's keen eye for a child's perspective).
Walter the Farting Dog (which for some reason, I cannot read without bestowing a heavy Bronx accent on the dad)
Mufaro's Beautiful Daughters (I didn't begin the story with the correct accent for the narrator- the one I always use- and so had to begin again).

We laughed loudly, our legs entangled under the warm comforter, our hearts enveloped in the presence of each other. Chopin was playing in the adjoining room. C turned off the light and climbed back into the bed next to me. K reached for a few strands of my hair to succor herself into the night. C pulled back my skin and slipped in, wrapping her arm around me. The loosening of the hold of my waist and hair, coupled with the rhythmic breathing of the two, lulled me into my own sleep.

I awakened several hours later and laid momentarily in the dark room, sweetened by their still untainted breath. Slipping from between them, I made my way upstairs where people were still awake and making preparation for the end of the day. I fell into my own bed, still sleepy but deeply satisfied.

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Rae at 11:57 PM | Comments (8) | A Fine Memory

I met Maxine during an

I met Maxine during an outing with the junior high youth group. The youth program emphasized more than lessons and finger-wagging against pre-marital sex. We visited the elderly, sent packages and notes to college students and missionaries, as well as monthly lessons. Service to others and the community was a priority.

A Little Moonlight

I really enjoy the solitude of the night, everyone sleeping, nobody needing me for anything.

I especially enjoy the moonlight reflecting off the snow on the mountains. For a moment, just a moment, I am not in Utah, so far from so many people that I love and know, and the comfort of being known, and it is just me, just a girl, here, standing in the doorway of the wide open world.

In just a few hours, shortened by the inevitable forwarding of the clock, I will have to be up, awake, alert, ready to sing a song with E in service this morning. While practicing this afternoon, I asked her come over and sing it with me. Her voice higher, she slipped into melody and I quietly moved down to harmony, just as in life, I am learning to be the consonance in her life. I can only hope that she will understand one day what it is to watch a daughter growing into a young woman. It is an incredible metamorphosis to behold.

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Rae at 02:37 AM | Comments (2) | A Fine Memory

Ready or Not

We have played hide and seek as a family since our girls were quite small. I recall being the Counter and R hiding with whomever was the baby at the time. I would cheat and call out for my baby, the sound of her laughter clueing me as to their conspiratorial hiding place.

Last night we played. It was so much fun! I hid in our closet behind the lower rack of clothes. It was uncomfortable having a stiletto heel penetrate my back, but it was so exciting when the door opened, the light came on, the hunter standing quietly waiting for a mistake on the part of the prey. I held my breath and didn't move, stifling giggles. Victory! After the swishing of a few hangers, the light dimmed and the door closed.

I waited. I love hearing the questions of "where is she" floating through the vents and muted through the doors and floors of the house. Finally, A came back and did a more thorough excavation. I stiffened. She touched my leg and whispered, "I found you." "Shhhh!" I commanded. She snorted her complacent pleasure in finding me, turned off the light and shut the door.

A few more minutes pass and I hear more foot steps, being more than one person, coming to the bedroom, coming to the closet, opening the door, light filtering through the pants, shirts, jackets. The clothes part, like the Red Sea, and a shout of triumph goes up among the people. Finally, I am found.

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Rae at 11:42 AM | Comments (5) | A Fine Memory

The Scent of a Woman

The scent of tuberose playfully pulls me back to watching my mother ready herself for an evening out. Anywhere that I am when it drifts past me is instantly transformed to the bathroom, complete with lemon yellow tile and matching carpet. She would lean against the sink, getting closer to the mirror, slightly opening her mouth and widening her eyes to apply mascara. When finished she would swipe a wet Q-tip across her lid, tidying up. Next, she would rub a tiny bit of rouge across her cheeks, like the slopes of mountains, peaking just to the side of her face. Red lipstick then rolled out of the tube and slide across her mouth. Now finished, she would step back, her milk chocolate brown eyes blinking several times as she scrutinized her artwork.

My favorite account of the

My favorite account of the resurrection of Christ is when Mary went to prepare His body for burial. I cannot retell it without small, deeply personal tears slipping into the corners of my eyes. I can only imagine the anxious night she had spent, perhaps just drifting beneath the surface of sleep if at all, and leaving at first light to go to care for body of Jesus in the tomb.

When she does not at first recognize Him sitting there, and continues her weeping, He softly calls her name, "Mary." I don't think it was done in chastisement, but rather a calm tone, said while smiling. I am sure it is my intense desire to be known, and to know, and perhaps the anticipation I have in hearing Him say my own name that endears this telling to me.

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Rae at 04:21 PM | Comments (0) | A Fine Memory

Chopin's Ballade in G minor,

Chopin's Ballade in G minor, Opus 23 is playing and snow is falling....it is a lovely morning.

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Rae at 12:45 PM | Comments (1) | A Fine Memory

A Few More Than You

Several years ago while brushing A's hair in the early morning of Thanksgiving Day, she announced that she wasn't going to learn to cook. I parted her hair and brushed it into two halves. As we were standing in front of a mirror, I tried to hide my amusement. She wouldn't appreciate me finding humor in her proclamation. She then said that she wasn't going to get married (this was when boys were still more annoying than not) and thus she didn't need to learn the fine art of food preparation.

As I wound one ribbon around a doggy-ear, I asked her if she ate. Her eyes widened, as they typically did when she sensed she was being led to a certain conclusion. She nodded. I tied the ribbon and turned her slightly to begin again on the other side. I told her that she would need to at least know how to feed herself.

I finished tying the second ribbon and we stood for a moment, looking at one another in the reflection. I smoothed the few rebellious hairs that refused to be tamed, still stiffling a grin. The smell of the pies baking reached under the door and teased and tempted to draw us out of our momentary reverie.

I opened the door and allowed the fullness of the kitchen smells to fetter our exchanged thoughts. Before leaving, she proclaimed that she wasn't going to have a large family anyway.... "Only five or six babies."

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Rae at 01:15 PM | Comments (0) | A Fine Memory

Rain, Rain Come Today

For some reason today, I am really missing a good thunderstorm, complete with lightning and a great downpour. I hope that when we go back to the Midwest this summer for my brothers wedding, we get a tremendous rain. Not on their wedding day, of course.

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Rae, great thunderstorms are one of the things I have missed most since moving west nearly three years ago. My mother loves thunderstorms, and my siblings and I all grew up loving them, too. We would go out into our garage during storms and sit in there with the big door open so we could experience the storm from covered safety. Before I was married, I lived on the 22nd floor of an apartment building in downtown Philadelphia, and one of my favorite things was watching a thunderstorm roll in from the west - all dark, ominous clouds and distant lightning bolts, the sudden stillness followed by the wind starting to whip around as the storm neared. (Of course, this same experience would evoke a completely different response from me had I grown up in the midwest fearing tornadoes!)

I can probably count on both hands the number of rainstorms we've had since I moved to California, and the thunderstorms number exactly one. I always laugh at my son, who is so unaccustomed to rain that at the first hint of mist, he says, "Mom, we need an umbrella!"

Here's hoping you get a great one while you're visiting!

by Alisha on March 17, 2005 08:06 PM

[Before I get started, you and others might enjoy the discussion at Amy's Humble Musings where she has a post “Pursuing the ‘good life’” http://www.theblogofamy.blogspot.com/ ]

Back on topic. My wife and I love thunderstorms and the days when it just drizzles.

In college (Louisiana Tech) we would drive to an open spaced area on top of a hill near the track stadium and watch the storm(s).

Once we were married and moved to another town, we would drive to any large vacant parking lot that was nearby (in the days when stores closed at 5:00 pm) to watch the lightning.

Where we live now, it is very flat with a continuous canopy of very large live oak trees. There are very few open areas to observe a storm, so we turn off all the lights, open all the blinds and watch from our humble abode.

A few years ago, I would go on 4-5 hour rides on my mountain bike (no mountains) on the levee that runs along the Mississippi River. I got caught one Sunday afternoon in a wind, hail, rain and lightning storm that would have been wonderful to observe from a safe location. I don’t know how large around lightning bolts are, but what I observed striking the river in front of me looked like they were 35-50 feet (or more) in diameter. There were barges along the river to compare them to in size, but I don’t know the length of them. I did pray to God that he would give my wife a nudge to come look for me. Eventually, I made it back to my car that was parked outside where I work. There were trees down everywhere. When I arrived at my house, which is nine miles away, there was not a sign that any rain or wind had occurred. Inside the house I found a note from my wife on the kitchen counter, “We went to church. See ya when we get home. Love K.” Oh well.

by Ralph on March 18, 2005 07:47 AM

Thanks, Alisha :D I wish I could bottle it up for you, too. I think the smell after rain is also something I miss.

Ralph- great story :D

by Rae on March 18, 2005 10:49 AM

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Rae at 10:42 AM | Comments (3) | A Fine Memory

The Golden Days

Yesterday the girls built a tent and played in it most of the evening. I knew the request would be coming to sleep in it. I made one requirement necessary, and with some encouragement, follow through, and help, it was accomplished.

E put music on for the girls to sleep to and, surprisingly, they did. K found her way to our bed sometime in the night, and E found herself somewhere other than when she started her journey to The Sugar-Plum Tree. This morning the sound of their breathing accompanied my quiet clicking of the keys.

Today the tent has remained up and they have spent the majority of their morning in it. Their innocent reverie has been attended by George Winston's piano accompaniment to the audio of The Velveteen Rabbit.

As I pass through the room, I stop to savor the inculpable nescience. I breathe deeply, taking mental snapshots of a smile, record a voice telling me "what this says," and interpreting a masterpiece of crayon art. How I wish to have been able to have experienced such blamelessness. Already by the age of K, I knew too much and felt too sad. In these moments, I try hard to be thankful to God that I can now be a part of it, and to also be profoundly thankful that although my girls are guaranteed sorrows in this life, that I have not been the prepetrator of them.

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Rae at 02:50 PM | Comments (4) | A Fine Memory

Pink Moon

The fleeting moments of satisfaction- no, of great blessedness- came suddenly upon me this morning. C and K were unloading the dishwasher. Wait, they were arguing with one another about unloading the dishwasher (not arbitrary either, expected every morning). I came upstairs to lay down the law, but found instead that maybe I needed to lay down some soul. I slipped in Nick Drake and told them that Uncle Nick loves this CD and that his dog is even named after him. A small, slight grin slipped from the corner of C's mouth. A big one emerged from my own. Mission accomplished vicariously through my brother.

It reminded me when Nick was small and we would use reverse psychology to get him to finish his meals, drink his milk, clean-up toys, etc. "You're too small to get that done, " we would say. His face would explode with laughter and giggles and he would insist he was going to do it anyway. Five minutes later, we were done. This memory came suddenly, quickly and then lead me into another. Not a memory, but an anticipation. An exchange of vows- ceremonial, and sacred. Promises that are steps to being called into account for you life. Words given to be a witness that your life existed beyond your work and morning commute. An agreement that no longer will your pain and joy be only your own, but will be shared and born together, not in perfect happiness, sometimes with tremendous and exhausting effort, but in the name of love and reciprocal validation of your presence here.

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Rae at 10:05 AM | Comments (2) | A Fine Memory

El viaje

It was a little lonely to be a in a city with almost anything to do at my disposal and yet no one with whom to do them. However, the day at CBS City Studios was extremely interesting and quite fun.

The balcony view of the strip didn't provide for the best sleeping, but it was glorious to slide those doors open and watch the sun awaken the sleeping city.

Tap your slippers together three times while saying

There's no place like home; there's no place like home; there's no place like home.

On the quiet flight out of Los Angeles, I found reason four to like Utah: for now, it was holding my R and girls.

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Rae at 09:32 AM | Comments (8) | A Fine Memory

Don't Blink

As a child, the things I feared most were wide spaces that required me to cross them in order to reach my destination. I vividly recall being petrified to step over the vast space between the elevator car and the leaving of the safe, solid floor. My mother was embarrassed and pleaded with me to just get into the elevator. I couldn't do it. The doors closed. I waited, knowing her wrath would bring her down the stairs faster than I could get up them.

Once while camping, the beauty of Turner Falls spurred us to a lovely afternoon hike. Not lovely for long. We came across a wide crevice, but nothing that couldn't be crossed with a run and a jump. I watched everyone else do it, and even told myself that I could make it across. As the group waited for me on the other side, I stood, willing myself to make the leap. After five minutes of good-hearted cheering, I realized it wouldn't happen. I sent them on ahead and sat and waited.

Life Means So Much

As has been noticed by any reader of regularity, the relationship between my mother and I while growing up was strained to say the least.

Once in the midst of one of our fights, I asked why she didn't just abort me. She paused. "I could've. All my friends were doing it. But, it was 1970 and it was illegal and I didn't want to break the law."

For the sake of the law, I am here today, living and breathing. For the sake of the law, four beautiful souls have breathed the sweet mountain air, bodysurfed in the amniotic warmth of the Pacific, ridden a bike, watched fireworks while cuddled-up and slapping mosquitoes, comforted one another's tears, eaten a roasted marshmallow, giggled together at night, and known that they were truly loved.

Gracias

Wow! 697 Comments. Thanks to everyone who took a minute to comment and a double thanks to those who also posted a link.

Greg thanks you, and so do all the low-income women who will now be able to get a mamogram.

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Rae at 04:39 PM | Comments (1) | A Fine Memory

Comment Fun(draising)

Greg of California Hammonds is sponsoring a comment fundraiser TODAY with funds raised going toward the National Breast Cancer Foundation’s programs for education and low-cost or free mammograms for low-income women.

Please remember to stop by and with a comment or two or three or four or one hundred- what an easy way to support such a worthy cause.

Rae at 11:58 AM | A Fine Memory
» The Grey Shadow links with: Comment fundraiser
» Six Meat Buffet links with: Help out a good cause
» Argghhh! The Home Of Two Of Jonah's Military Guys.. links with: Don't hang up - hear me out!
» She Who Will Be Obeyed! links with: Busy, busy, busy
» The LLama Butchers links with: Llama Public Service Announcement

Pattern Recognition

Two songs that I have really noticed the words to today:

Green Eyes (Coldplay)
Blue Eyes (Cary Brothers- his site offers a free song download of the week) .

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Rae at 04:19 PM | Comments (0) | A Fine Memory

For The Magnanimous Heart

Relationships have always been very important to me. Analyzing why, and I do analyze everything (A therapist once told me that is a sign of intelligence. “You mean neuroticism,” I retorted ), I can only conclude the lack of relationship in my own home while growing up. I so craved connection with people. My mother was too busy with her own stuff to question why everyone I came into contact with was a potential relationship. I talked to everyone and anyone about anything. On occasion, this posed embarrassing for my mother. Boundaries weren’t well defined and what semblance there was was frequently trespassed by those who feed on stealing the innocence of youth.

Say Goodnight Rae

Goodnight, Rae.

With 469 entries, 1518 comments, and 27, 686 hits, I am hanging it up.

I am sure that I will still cruise around the blogosphere and may perhaps comment here and there, but for now, I am stepping away. Thank you one and all for your encouraging, humorous, and sometimes challenging comments.

Godspeed and His joy, as well. I'll look for you there.

Updated: I will post letters from Lt. Col. Bellon when he sends them. I also wanted to reassure everyone that everything is fine, I just took some inventory of all that I need to accomplish between now and the summer, and the time that blogging takes would really interrupt the flow toward the goal. This was my decision and hasn't been influenced by more than my desire to be more productive here. R has always been cautiously supportive of my blogging endeavor, knows my gregarious nature, and thus thinks I will come back sooner than I anticipate :) However, I just wanted to clarify that R and I are wonderful ("you-know-who"-your goal was destroyed and not in anyway accomplished- again I point you to the mirror and admonish you to gaze a little longer at yourself), the children are thriving, but I have been impressed more and more of the little time that I have these beauties with me, and want to use my time both wisely and in a way that will be beneficial to their lives. I have been thinking about this off and on for awhile and now just seemed the best time.

Updated 2: O.K. my daughters have fervently urged me to reconsider and perhaps to schedule blog time each day. So :::sigh::: sorry to be so wishy-washy, but I am thinking....and considering.

Rae at 10:45 PM | A Fine Memory
» The LLama Butchers links with: RUh-ROh

Offically Sappy Post- Negative Commentors need not reply

Pop rock in the last 15 years hasn't particularly appealed to me. Occasionally; however, I slide the dial past the low end loaded with NPR and other strange stations to listen to the other stations out there. I confess that the song 1985 amused me. I also confess to thinking My Band as pretty darn funny (and yes, loaded with explictives) but extremely creative. People might not particularly like Eminem, but they can't deny he is one of the most intelligent rappers out there. I mean who else can rhyme to Munchausen?

Anyway, I really do like the song She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5. It reminds me of the love that R gives me.

"It's not always rainbows and butterflies, it's compromise that moves us along"
is one of my favorite lines, but I specifically love the line "She will be loved." For a little girl, a young woman, to be loved is more than she could dream of and all she ever desired.

And Sunday Morning- well, that one speaks for itself. :D

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Rae at 11:26 PM | Comments (6) | A Fine Memory

The Soul Felt It's Worth

Growing up in a pagan home Christmas meant a two week vacation from school; presents; attention from people; food; and decorations. It had absolutely nothing to do with belief or celebration of the birth of Christ.

While teaching our girls the religious symbolism incorporated into our cultural celebrations and our own family traditions, we want so much for them to understand that the gift of Christmas should be recognized the other 364 days of the year. Grace and mercy and forgiveness, these are the gifts given to us without our deserving. Who are we to deny them to others?

Superheroic World Wide Entertainment

Being in a house full of boys has been fun. I mean, the boys can't take two steps without some kind of sound effect coming out of them, purposed or otherwise.

I awakened Saturday morning to the sounds of wrestling and body-slamming....at 6:15 A.M. Recall that I am on Mountain Time, so it was really 5:15 (even as I type this the six year-old is making motorcycle sounds which sound a lot like other "sounds"). I love these three boys like they are my own, so I lay in bed amused. I then crept across the hall and teased them for awakening me so early. I was informed that this was a regularly scheduled activity on weekend mornings. I stopped and listened to see if their parents were awake, but they lay snoozing.

Yesterday, while I was taking a power nap, I listened to the boys playing PS2 and the little one once again animating his people and vehicles. I thought about how loved these little boys are and how good it is that boys and girls are different. Yes, people are the same in that they need to be loved and to know that people care about them regardless of their gender. But the sound effects echoed through the walls of my home are not exploding things and punches. Boys and girls do differ in their dramatic play, and it's o.k.; it's natural; it's normal.

R and I were talking last week about the whole women's movement. We wondered whether the good gained negated the good that was lost. I really do want for my girls to marry a man who holds the door for them, pulls out their chair, helps them with their coat, who offers to carry something heavy. My heart melts when I see an elderly couple leaving a restaurant and the husband holds out her coat, the door, and gently yet protectively takes her elbow and maneuvers her when he perceives someone as getting too close. Can I put on my own coat? Of course. Can I hold the door? Yes, and I often do. Am I strong? Very. These things don't connote weakness. They show respect and consideration.

K and her husband are raising valiant young men; men worthy of my daughters; men worthy to fight for the country they believe holds the light of democracy. Men who will be respectful and considerate of their wives, cherishing her when the strength of her youth has given way to her aging body, respecting her as the mother of his children, and the one who has loved him and been faithful for so many years.

Thank you, A and K for loving and training your boys, and thus growing them into true men. Thank you for knowing and training their individual talents and gifts (piano, basketball, art, baseball) that as knights their armor will be unique as their swords are strong.

The sound effects are starting again, so I must finish that I may give my attention more fully to Spiderman annihilating his enemies and making a safer world for all the Mary Jane's and Aunt Mae's and Uncle Ben's. And remember, it was the contributions of these people together that shaped Peter Parker into the hero he became.

« Hide the rest of Superheroic World Wide Entertainment

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Rae at 10:31 AM | Comments (5) | A Fine Memory

Just Perfect

"He made me laugh."

"Get ready for greatness."

"Nobody thought we would do this. Nobody thought it would work."

"You just described every great success story."

I knew there was a reason I picked this movie on this night.

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Rae at 03:34 AM | Comments (2) | A Fine Memory

Top Ten Reasons for Driving Across Country Instead of Flying

10) Nothing like white-knuckling it through Utah and Colorado; in fact, an excellent cardio workout.
9) Junk food fest: Cheetos, Swedish Fish (Blech! The choice of my fellow passengers ), Hostess Cupcakes, Gummy worms, Nerds, Tic Tacs, Red Bull (wretching- that stuff was disgusting! liquid sweet tarts is not appealing...) Diet Dr. Pepper, thick gas station coffee.
8)Family sing alongs without all those dirty looks from airline passengers.
7)Good music as loud as you want it without, well, see #8.
6)Laughing with R at 3 a.m. in eastern CO.
5)Laughing with the girls at 11 a.m. in eastern Kansas.
4)Layovers where, when, and however long you choose.
3)You can complain directly to the pilot while weilding a nail file and not find a police escort waiting at the next Amoco. (Laugh people).
2)I take off my shoes when I want to take off my shoes.
1)Family togetherness at half the cost.

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Rae at 01:17 PM | Comments (8) | A Fine Memory

Thanks and Thanksgiving

For what are you thankful?

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Rae at 02:54 PM | Comments (8) | A Fine Memory

To the Place I Belong

1)The Jefferson National Expansion Memorial (The St. Louis Arch and The Old Court House). Having read Sacajawea, written by Joseph Bruchac, a wonderful children's author and storyteller of Native American literature such as Squanto and Children of the Longhouse, we were able to fill in the precious details that the National Geographic film left out. (An aside, I highly recommend any of his books). A read The Captain's Dog last year and enjoyed seeing the portrayal of Capt. Lewis' faithful Newfoundland.
2)Picking up beautiful Sweet Gum and Maple leaves for leaf rubbings.
3)Farotto's St. Louis style pizza-mmmmmmm.
4)Watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban with E and mother-in-law- simply enchanting ;).

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Rae at 08:22 PM | Comments (2) | A Fine Memory

Two Jerks and a Baby; One Man and a Lady

The surname my biological father bestowed upon me was packed neatly away when my mother finally married David. It was attached to my school records and files at the beginning of one school year, with promises of documentation to be produced later. Somewhere in the shuffle of report cards and testings, the demand for proof ceased and I had finally, without the blessing of the state of Oklahoma, changed my name.

It wasn't until I was living in Missouri in the middle of my junior year of high school, that I sought the permission of the county judge for the last remnants of Jack's empty and faceless heritage to be removed from me. I felt like I was in a state of appellation limbo, not really Jack's and definitely not David's. The name change was merely an outward formality of conforming. I had to have a last name. I simply went with the one with which everyone was already familiar. At 16, the more "normal" one is to her peers, the less grief to be endured. I wanted no questions.

Though I bore the names of two men, both poor paternal poseurs, neither had any claim to me, to my heart, to be called "daddy" by my voice, to be the first man treasured in my soul. I sometimes find it ironic that I had to be married to actually bear the name of a man and a family who loved me and desired me for their own. No longer was I symbolically beleagured to my oppressor or simply the result of a divorce settlement.

I love my married name. I love the way it flows smoothly off the tongue. It is regal, beautiful, dignified. It says to those who know it: hard work, sacrifice, dependability, trust, character, integrity. But most of all, I love the man whom it represents.

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Wow, Rae. My goodness. I feel a deep calling as a man as I read your words. I also feel the pain of a teenage girl who wakes up able to put words to the reality of her life.
And, blessings on you and that good man of yours.

by Ben on November 16, 2004 03:44 PM

What a poignant post. The Lord also lets you bear His name in Christ-ian. He also has His own name that you will get once you get to the other side that only you and He will know...but you know that.

I bear the name of my bio dad. I am a II (2nd) and believe me, it was a SORE source of pain growing up. He abandoned us. I dealt with it in that my brother and I challenged each other to bring honor and grace to our names by treating our families differently than he did. We did not adopt our step-father's name. He didn't want us to. :-/

So...yeah I connected to your eloquent post.

by Randy on November 16, 2004 04:34 PM

David Nicholas "McCool"

Doesn't sound half bad.

on another note:
It's ironic that in a time when the divorce rate is so high, and a broken home practically a requirement for normalty, that genealogy is so fervently studied. People are desperate for some sense of honor, history, integrity to bestow upon their name.

When we were in Paris touring the Paris Opera i saw a 19th Century painting of a dignified gentleman who possessed my last name (or I his?)
Also the two main roads that radiate from the Palace in Versailles (Rue Du North and South) as they become smaller streets and approach the palace are also carry my last name. see ya

Nick

by nick on November 16, 2004 05:16 PM

For at least three generations, the father's name has come down the line to their oldest son.
My Grandfather was George.
My Dad is Raymond George.
I'm Jeremy Raymond.

My mother, named me Jeremy Ray; its on my birth certificate. But somehow, for some reason, during my comming of age (around 16 or so) I decided I wanted my middle name to be Raymond. So I unofficially changed it. However it appears on all my major documents now, so its pretty much official.

Mom didn't appreciate it at the time, but I think Dad really liked it.
Eventually, Mom came around to the idea.

I'm pretty sure my first born son will bear the middle name of Jeremy. In my dreams, his name is Westley.

by Jeremy on November 16, 2004 05:17 PM

Thank you, Ben. To be an upstanding father that demonstrates the love of God to his children will have such a deep and lasting impact.

Randy- you are so right. That also has very special meaning for me, and I can't wait to see my real Father.

Nick- lol. Yes, it would look great on the cornerstone of buildings, wouldn't it? I am sometimes saddened that our mother had to work out her own issues with the men who fathered us. However, I am thankful that God brought to me a man far better that I was ever exposed to, or imagined existed.

Jeremy, my middle name is also our first daughter's middle name. She intends on carrying on the tradition and placing our middle name as her daughter's(should she have one).

by Rae on November 16, 2004 05:48 PM

Hey Rae,
I was lucky. My parents really loved each other, my mom passed last year and my dad is lost without her. He lives with me, so it can be difficult. They had their problems, but worked through them. Their 61 anniversary would be next week, Thanksgiving.

I was not so lucky. My kids have had to pay the price. Not going into ugly details and they are ugly. My daughter has wanted to take my maiden name, which I took back after the divorce. So far, I've been able to convince her differently, though she is 23 and nearly engaged.

My youngest son, barely 18 is asking the same, to take my maiden name. I do think this has more to do with their grandfather and uncle than myself, but I feel like they are attempting to throw off part of their identities.

by Kathianne on November 16, 2004 07:40 PM

Beautifully expressed, Rae.

by jeff on November 16, 2004 07:43 PM

Hmmm, we had discussed taking the middle name of my father and my father-in-law, "Edward," and using it in the name of our child if it turned out to be a son. Well, she wasn't a boy, so we dodged that one, which is good because our first dog, who we've had 5 years, is named Eddie.

"What a beautiful baby! He's got his daddy's nose, his mommy's eyes, and the dog's name!"

:)

In the end, we think a daughter named Fiona Evelyn was not a half-bad thing.

by andy on November 16, 2004 08:46 PM

I have no good stories about my last name but my Husband has since the age of 15 beared his step father's (although that is not what he calls him, just "dad")last name and he wears it quite proudly I might add. Our children have been blessed with being named after their grandfathers which I think makes their grandpas really honored.
I have always loved your last name Rae. You are right in the fact that it flows so nicely. I am very proud to be called with my husband's last name also. I always hated my last name. Love you always! Sally

by Sally on November 17, 2004 10:38 AM

It has amazed me from the start how you both turned out so well. My best beloved and Nick. Nick is a man of great talent, intelligence and character. I believe that. Believe me I don't throw that out very often. Better make note.

by R on November 17, 2004 04:44 PM

Kathianne- I can only speak from my own experience, but if they are old enough and desire to do so, it may be very healing for them to take your maiden name. It can be too frequent a reminder of awful people and things when it is a name that must be signed and seen everywhere. Virtual wisdom thrown your way.

Thank you, Jeff.

Andy- I think Fiona Evelyn is just the sweetest name, so very feminine.

Sally, thank you. I think your husband is funny, compassionate, thoughtful, good-looking, a wonderful bestfriend and lover for you, and the best daddy to those little boys (hug them for me). And I love that you are reading and commenting more frequently :D

R- my love, thank you. (Nick, did you take note? ;)

by Rae on November 17, 2004 07:53 PM

As a single father who hasn't been able to experience ANY of the joys of parenthood...only the pain...I am not sure what to think...

My son is 16, he stopped talking to me last year, he has quit school and has severed all ties with me, and his mother SANCTIONS this!

For fourteen years I tried my damnedest to stay involved in my son's life, only to be denied at every opportunity SAVE TWO (his 1999 First communion and a parent teacher conference in 2000) by his mother, who had the 'nads to say to me when no one was within earshot that the only reason she kept me away from him was because she was afraid I would take her to court and have him taken away from her for incompetence.

Funny she mentioned that, since then he's been in trouble with the law to boot and she had him committed on his 13th birthday, shortly after that little conversation took place.

I just got tired of her BS, my son has suffered the consequences of her decisions...I just wish she could take her maiden name back. She has brought total shame to my family for her actions.

Damn her!

by Macker on November 17, 2004 10:37 PM

Wow, what a wonderful account. I hope that all girls from broken homes stay strong and follow your example of a realistic optimism so they might also enjoy a similar reward.

Great blog.

by m a r t i n @ b l o g b a t on November 17, 2004 10:37 PM

Note taken!

by Nick on November 17, 2004 11:55 PM

This means alot, i know R had his doubts about me when i was growing up with mom. It seems that every trait that i could stand to lose comes from her, but i know there are some mystery traits from David. Some of my favorite attributes are directly related to the diligence of my mother's attempted training.

Did you know mom was in Salt Lake City a few weekends ago for a conference?

by Nick on November 18, 2004 12:02 AM

Macker, I am sorry that your genuine efforts at respectable and admirable fatherhood have been denied. I know things like that happen to men of integrity. My prayers are with you.

Martin- thank you. If I may address your comments as well as Sir Nick's: our mother did contribute some very important, positive attributes such as love of music, culture, food, belief in God, capitalism and Ronald Reagan, a sense of classic fashion, art, the ability to distingush good literature, a love of history. I find that what didn't occur has affected me more so than what did, however, and most of my horrid memories stem from the men she choose to be a part of our lives and the aftermath of their departure. Knowing what I do about my mother's own life growing up has helped me deal with it.

I greatly admire her and am deeply grateful that she choose the harder road for giving me life. In 1969 to be both pregnant and divorced was not the easy road to take. She could have opted for a back-alley, illegal abortion, like many of her friends. To place personal dreams on the back burner in order to raise a child by herself was, not once, but twice, while dealing with the ultimate rejection, is more of a challenge than I have had to deal with. I have had my own. One of the greatest things we can do in this life to learn to reconcile our parents humanity with their parenting. It can be very hard to do.

Nick, we think you are a wonderful man and I think that while she wasn't perfect, you got the best slice of mom and I am so very, very thankful for that. You were like my firstborn and the thought of you suffering was more than I could bare. I prayed often for you when she was pregnant with you, and continued to do so while we were apart from one another, and still do. I love you, brother.

P.S. Yes, knew mom was in Salt Lake (Park City, actually). Unfortunately, her scheduled was a little too tight to make it here (it's a 5 hour drive). Sigh....another time.

by Rae on November 18, 2004 03:09 PM

This hits a little too close to home for me. I would love to erase my husband's name from mine, however, my children wear his name, and I don't want to be any less connected to them by changing back to my maiden name. Maybe someday I will find a man worthy and be proud to share his name, but for now I am kind of stuck. You are right, it is much easier to go with what is "normal", not so much explaining to do.

by joyella/ on November 19, 2004 03:15 PM

Joyella, thanks for commenting :)

I, too, hope that you will someday be with an honorable man, one worthy of sharing his name. For the record, I was glad that my mother and I shared the same last name. It gave us at some kind of connection, but I know you to be a far more loving and meticulous mom than I experienced, so regardless, they will love you and know that you love them.

by Rae on November 21, 2004 12:14 AM

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Rae at 02:41 PM | Comments (18) | A Fine Memory
» Marriages Restored links with: What's In A Name

The Mystery of the Missing Coat

The fragility of the shells in which our souls dwell is frightening. I exercise only to maintain cardiovascular health; death by heart attack does not appeal to me. Proper consumption of food wards off obesity and all the nasty little things that come with it; diabetes is not a very pretty disease. I watched my grandmother waste away, her face contorted in constant pain due to colon cancer that eventually spread through the rest of her body. My other grandmother died at 93, alone. Her dementia made her naturally cranky self completely unbearable. In 2002 my beloved father-in-law suffered a stroke on Father's Day. The right side of his body was paralyzed and his mental faculties left lacking. I have missed him terribly.

This week as the temperature became colder and we all began to reach for our sweaters and jackets and thick socks the closet was found wanting of my coat. This is not just any coat. You see, this coat was the last Christmas gift I received from my father-in-law, the time when he was actually involved in the choosing and the buying and the wrapping and the opening of the gifts rather than sitting quietly in the leather wing-back with a blanket over his lap. The coat: black, down, quilted ski jacket with fur-trimmed hood. My father-in-law and I once shared an eye for fashion and this coat was beautiful and ahead of the game. Everywhere I went compliments abounded. Alas, the coat is missing. I am devastated. Sitting on the edge of my bed tonight, I cried as I told R that the coat cannot be found.

(Typed with love via telephone line 1100 miles away by the best friend. Thank you, Mr. Graham Bell.)

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Rae at 07:33 PM | Comments (8) | A Fine Memory

Missing Piece

It has now been nine days since I have seen the eyes of my daughters; smelled the sweetness of them; felt their hair on my fingertips; heard their laugh; seen them smile; watched them sleep.

It has been an eternity since I have seen the blue in R's eyes; watched his body move through time and space; felt the strength of it against my own; caught his brow in thought; watched him shave and dress; smelled his presence near me; felt my soul comforted by his very existence. A piece of the puzzle is missing and will be complete only when gently placed in the space created uniquely for it.

I am returning soon my loves.

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Rae at 05:04 PM | Comments (3) | A Fine Memory | Talkin' 'Bout My Girls

Appealing

1) Scotch Tape®-Reminds me of Christmas.
2) Coffee- Reminds me of my grandmother.
3) Cotton and leather- shopping in Harold's® stores with my mom when I was little.
4) Dreft®- my babies.
5) Clean puppies- being a little girl when my mother raised labs; innocence.
6) Gardenias- my mother when she was young(er).
7) Musty basements- grandmother's house.
8) Hot wet concrete- being a little girl in Oklahoma in the summers.
9) Moist dark dirt and freshly cut grass- reminds me now of the midwest where grass and dark moist dirt exist.
10) Exhaust in the winter- reminds me of waiting for the bus when I was young and smelling all those '60's and '70's model cars warming up.
11) Car grease, metal, whatever is used to clean guns, and deodorant style soap- R. Mmmm.
12) Jet fuel- traveling.

Just to name a few....

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Rae at 10:50 AM | Comments (0) | A Fine Memory

The Heartland

There is something deep inside me that misses my home. Not the house I once had or lived in, but the land from which I came. This desert is not my domain. I miss the green of grass and trees. I miss waking up to an overcast morning or the sound of rain on the streets and dripping from the roof or flowing out of the gutters. I miss the colors of sugar maples and oaks. I miss humidity making my wavy hair stick to my forehead. I miss having friends over and watching the kids play ball using our three Elms as bases. I miss seeing the fields gravid with corn, wheat, and soybeans. I miss the gleam of the sun on a lake. I miss the taste of Bass fished from that lake. I miss the rolling hills that would put my babes to sleep on a Sunday afternoon. I miss people celebrating National holidays together, like Memorial Day, Labor Day, Fourth of July by grilling; having watermelon and ice-cream; and watching the children play in the sprinklers. I miss being close enough to family to decide on a whim for a weekend visit. I miss calling up a girlfriend to meet for a late night coffee and commiseration. I miss Missouri. This dry land will never be my home much as I try. My heart belongs to the midwest and always will. One day, my soul will be unfettered and will be comforted by her generosity again.

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Now that is some good writing! Sorry you are homesick. :(

by Randy on September 9, 2004 02:20 PM

Sorry you're so homesick.

My best friend lives in SC and we've never lived near each other. But there are times I really wish we were close enough to see one another whenever we liked instead of a few days every couple of years. I envy you your memories :)

by Ith on September 9, 2004 05:56 PM

At least you know that you will be going back....

by Amy on September 10, 2004 01:18 AM

{{{Rae}}}

That was beautiful, and touching. I feel the same way about my 'place' on the big blue ball.

My father passed his love of the land down to me, and it comforted me somehow after he died. I would walk the land he loved and think: "only the rocks live forever".

I also will go home again.

by pam on September 10, 2004 06:32 AM

At the risk of sounding repetitive, I'm going tell you that you sound like C.S. Lewis:

These things --the beauty, the memory of our own past-- are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the heart of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.
(The Weight of Glory)

This obviously resonates with what the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews tells about Abraham in Heb. 11:9,10, "By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God."

I can understand what you wrote very well. I also had to live away from my homeland once. But I was more fortunate, because I went to your country (not in Utah, thankfully :D), and I learned to love it and its people. If I had to live in, say, Bolivia, the outcome would be very different and far more challenging.

Rae, you are now in pain and sorrow, because you are a stranger in a strange, bizarre, barren land which you cannot call your own. You don't really long for Missouri; you long for home, as you state very well. But take confort. You will be at home one day; and meanwhile, may our Lord grant you the grace of living in a place you love, among the people you love, and doing the things you love, in Jesus' name.

by Eduardo on September 10, 2004 09:19 AM

Thank you for your thoughts, guys! And thanks for the compliments on the writing, too.

Eduardo- wow! C.S. Lewis- there can be no higher comparison :)

Thanks for your words of encouragement.

I often think of how I don't want to be like the Hebrews, grumbling, whining, complaining, malcontents and not see the blessing in what is coming because I am soooooo focused on here and now.

by Rae on September 10, 2004 09:45 AM

"I often think of how I don't want to be like the Hebrews, grumbling, whining, complaining, malcontents and not see the blessing in what is coming because I am soooooo focused on here and now."

Are you kidding? We ARE the Hebrews! They are us.

by Patrick on September 10, 2004 10:31 AM

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Rae at 11:26 AM | Comments (7) | A Fine Memory

Sin City

1)Two words: silicone and saline
2)Bright Lights; Big City
3)In-N-Out-Mmmm-mmmm
4)The Virgin River Gorge
5)Starbucks Mocha Frappé (one shot, extra chocolate, skim milk please)
6)Quarters-only parking meters with no quarters and machines that take only twenties
7)Delayed plane-parking ticket anxiety
8)Too much perfume, body lotion, sweat
9)Slot machines ring-ring-ringing in my ear
10)The lovely face of my first-born walking up the ramp-ahhhhhhh.

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Rae at 11:45 AM | Comments (1) | A Fine Memory

These are the days...

A refreshing 2 1/2 mile walk followed by crunches and weights this morning with my best friend and lover is now being supplemented with delicious homemade biscuits and gravy. Little girls in dresses and bows, my man in khakis, me in black and turquoise on our way to worship as a family and the body of Christ- a beautiful morning.

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Rae at 09:08 AM | Comments (1) | A Fine Memory

Reveille

I don't know when I've slept better and not known why. I woke up at 5:15 A.M. and anyone who knows me well knows that isn't typical. I prefer the quiet of late night rather than the early morning. However, the window was open and the cool earthy morning smell was blowing across the sill. It reminded me of something I can't even remember and I was drawn to go and breathe it into my being.

Baby Blues

Last night R pulled out the camcorder and we watched videos from when our children were younger. It was fun for them to see themselves distinctly smaller, talking differently, sometimes with less teeth, sometimes with a few new big ones. From birthday parties to riding a bike without training wheels for the first time, to welcoming a new one to the bunch, it was so good to watch their little(er) bodies move; to see the swing of their hair; hear the sound of their little voices as they talked and described things and performed for the camera.

I remember all the little ladies in the grocery store who I would catch gently staring at me as I juggled a baby, a toddler, a pre-schooler and a shopping cart. I would respectfully smile as I saw her slowly making her way over to me. She would tell me what felt like a thousand other ones before her had in that shaking tiny voice of theirs, "They grow up so fast." Lack of sleep would sometimes tip the scale of my response: I would either say something kind and quaint in return or murmur under my breath, "Not fast enough."

She was right and even when I was tired and sarcastic, I knew she was right. And guess what, I don't have that shaking voice yet, but I occasionally see a young woman doing the dance of trying to find where the item for the coupon she painstakingly cut out is, giving the baby the pacifier, shifting the toddler from one hip to the other, telling the preschooler that no-she-may-not-have-Cocoa-Krispies-because-they-aren't-healthy-and-I-don't-care-that-Jenny's-mother-buys-them-for-her, I smile to myself and miss those days. Briefly.

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I sigh wistfully and know what you mean, kiddo.

Of course, I'm the youngest grandma I know (now that I'm no longer in Oklahoma - heh) so there's that.

:)

by Emma on July 22, 2004 01:06 AM

So, there really is a time when you actually MISS the days of chaos? Being in the middle of the stage of life that you just described so acurately, I sure appreciate knowing that I will look back on these days fondly. Do you remember a time when a shower was at the top of your birthday wish list? If you ever feel the need to relive those days, come on over!

by Kadi Prescott on July 22, 2004 02:31 PM

I just realized that you don't even live close to me. So you can always read about the chaos that is my childbearing life, on my blog. www.kadiprescott.blogspot.com It's good for a laugh if nothing else!!!

by Kadi Prescott on July 22, 2004 02:51 PM

How quickly those moments end. However, as I am about to enter them once more, I am not looking forward to the late nights ( I love my sleep) and feeling like a never ending milk supply.

I am anxious to see my baby's face. What will he look like? Who will he act like? Will he have blue eyes and blonde hair like the rest of my children? That's what I look forward to.

When people make the decision to be DINKs I wonder if they really know what they are missing. Then I think maybe they do.

Amy

by Amy on July 22, 2004 03:20 PM

Kadi- Yea! Finally, your blog addy :) I am going to immediately induct you to the Ladies of the 'Sphere :)[Done and will come by and read later tonight with ice-cream treat in tow]

Yes, there are times when I briefly miss my newborn greedily nuzzling my breast or the smell of their downy heads. I miss the house being so still by 9 p.m. each night that all you can hear their tick-tocking respirations clocking the passing of another day. I miss the little lisps. And naptime. I definitely miss nap time.

But, I really do enjoy having philosophical and theological discussions with my older children now, too. I love that they have the ability now to tell me exactly (though I sometimes don't want to hear it) what is bugging them. I relish helping them gain problem solving skills and sharing a chick flick (appropriately reviewed and selected, of course) and a good book together. I like baking with them and watching them present a meal to their daddy in mock of their future husband. I love seeing the pride in R's eyes as they reach the touch pad of a lane after swimming their fastest time (and also seeing their confidence soar because of his approval). I am enamoured of their coming moral strength and how it weaves itself so wholly into their physical beauty, as well. I am thankful for the accountability they bring to me as my Christian sisters.

I will never regret having born my children. It is at times an exhausting and daunting task, but it seems to be that all the great accomplishments in this life are so. Climbing Everest; participating in the Olympics; going through Boot Camp; getting a degree; raising a family.

It is hard, Kadi, and it is the most tiring thing I have ever done, but so worth it that it brings no regret and there's not much else in life about which I can with wholeheartedly honesty say that.

by Rae on July 22, 2004 04:29 PM

Amy- I can't wait to meet Little Mr. M#2 myself :)

by Rae on July 22, 2004 04:32 PM

Congrats on your little miracle, Amy. I am always so happy to hear of another cherub in the making and the excited mother who awaits his/her arrival. In a world with so many unwanted babies, it warms my heart to know that there are other mothers out there who value the gift of life. Peace be with you and your cherub!

by Kadi Prescott on July 23, 2004 10:08 PM

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Rae at 08:02 PM | Comments (7) | A Fine Memory

"That's All"

When I was permitted the blessing of being removed for the summer from my own Number 4 Privet Drive, I spent the summers at my grandmother's home. I was warned to be on my best behavior as my socks were matched and tossed into the bag. While a dress or two was neatly folded, I was lectured on chewing with my mouth closed and remembering my manners.

Knowing that none of this was ever required of me at home, I inwardly chortled at what were probably the normal requests of a child visiting relatives. I never ate a meal with my parents unless we were eating out with friends or relatives. My meals were either take-out eaten in the car or alone in my room. I learned to chew with my mouth closed while eating dinner at a neighborhood friend's home. Her father had had enough of my chomping and slopping and told his daughter to remind me to keep my lips together or leave the table. I was horrified, but I never smacked again.

Lack of Green Thumb

So, K and her family have gone.

My heart has boarded a plane with her. I didn't think I would cry, but alas, the tears came like a sudden rain. It was cathartic and depressing at the same time.

For one week, I wasn't actually in Utah. I was home, in a different house, but as long as I didn't look outside, it was the midwest and I was with someone who knows me, who I know, and the laughter was healing.

We were driving up the mountain and chatting away, and I looked over at her once when she laughed. I had forgotten how pretty she was; how her humor is so physical and hysterical; how her eyes light up when she talks.

I am not blooming too well. I think this transplant has damaged my roots.

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Rae at 03:02 PM | Comments (8) | A Fine Memory

Food, Fun, Family, Friends, and Freedom

Just popping in real quick to say that we have company this week and so the posting will be light to nil this week. I hope that everyone has had fun and reflective Independence Day celebrations. Fireworks and sparklers always remind me of being a kid in the dark and humid Oklahoma nights of July at Lake McAlester. Those were the early days of grooming this patriette and I hope to pass that pride in culture and nationality on to my daughters, too.

I found this mythic story from the Revolutionary War of a brave young woman quite inspiring. I hope you will, too.

Big-thankful-for-living-in-the-Land-of-the-Free-and-the-Home-of-the-Brave smile for you :)

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Rae at 11:16 AM | Comments (0) | A Fine Memory

It has been a busy

It has been a busy week. One of R's buddies from his active duty days in the USMC arrived last Friday evening. On Saturday, they went to Zion National Park. On Sunday, with three of our girls in tow, they hit the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Monday, they were guided to an off the map gorgeous trail in Kolob Canyon. Tuesday, taking the older girls, they hit Zion again and did several trails along with one that E had previously done, Hidden Canyon. Wednesday Pete took himself to Bryce Canyon and R took himself in for one day of work. Today, we began the swimming competition of Utah Summer Games. Our girls all won medals in backstroke. For some reason, they excel at this stroke. A brought home a gold; E a silver; C has a bronze and a personal best time in dropping 15 seconds. For those of you who don't swim, let me assure you, that is huge. I timed lane one- easy as giving a baby candy. In four hours, I only had five swimmers. I like cheering on the swimmers as they are coming in the home stretch. It is such a demanding sport that a kid can feel that kicking in the last 10 meters won't matter-so I give a big grin and encouraging words. The meet continues for the next two days.

Let the Good Times Roll (a la Ray Charles)

The girls and I went to a watercolor show at Blue Sage Frame Shop and then headed over to Groovefest with a couple of quilts. E and her friend took off to check out a few of the booths by themselves and A and I went over to look at some of the artist's kiosks. We found a handcrafted alabaster horse and a red coral bracelet. I also ran into a very gifted and hyperactive artist. He fashioned beautiful waterfalls in various sizes out of copper and copper patina. Two Slim and the Taildragons (a SRV wanna be group but actually pretty decent) played and the girls made fun of the lead singer/guitarist making faces and felt sorry for the bassist who got no notice (we determined it was his lack of face making). It was a fun evening together.

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Rae at 11:53 PM | Comments (0) | A Fine Memory

Once upon a time

Reading to my children has always been a delight. I have a certain repertoire that I use with all of them. When each reaches three, I begin to aclimate them to listening to short pieces of chapter books, beginning with the Pooh series by A.A. Milne. We then move on to other greats: Just So Stories and Rikki Tikki Tavi; the Raggedy Ann setThe Wind in the Willows;The Secret Garden; A Little Princess; The Little House series; E.B. White's Charlotte's Web; The Trumpet of the Swan, and Stuart Little. So, that by the time they are 6, they are re-reading them for themselves. I enjoy bringing the characters to life: creating an accent appropriate for the personality cultivated by the writer; talking about them and referring to them in conversations.

Farewell

Ronald Reagan inspired me to public speaking. As an eleven year old, I would listen intently to his speeches. I felt inspired and encouraged and awed. I even recall wishing he could have served another term, just so I could personally vote for him when I came of age. I haven't felt that way while listening to a president for a long time. I am thankful that he served and grateful to have experienced first hand his presidency and his presence.

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I too wanted to see a third term come about, but it never did. I am sad that he is gone. He was one of the greatest people I have ever met.

All the news clips and retrospectives keep misting me up!

Good, good man.

--David

by David R. Darrow on June 6, 2004 10:18 AM

I remember all of the Reagan Administration (He's even why I'm such a staunch Republican.)

I also remember that last scene of him and Nancy, as he left office, and their dog running up the stairs.

His entire 2 terms as President were such great memories, even through we were in such turmoil.

by Jeremy on June 6, 2004 04:07 PM

Im sure he was a decent man, and no doubt a charming public speaker....but i cant respect his administration for his cold warrior politics and his destruction of the regulation to the economy FDR created 50 years earlier.

by GuerrillaRadio on June 6, 2004 05:09 PM

"but i cant respect his administration for his cold warrior politics and his destruction of the regulation to the economy FDR created 50 years earlier."

Uh...um...uh...um...I'm nearly speechless. However, not totally speechless.

His "cold warrior politics" brought an end to the Cold War and his economic policies brought prosperity. I'm only 32, but I know enough to realize how crappy things were when he took office.

by Patrick on June 6, 2004 10:41 PM

And they WERE CRAPPY.
Iran had us by the neck, and the hostage situation there was an awful sight to see.
Gas prices were soaring, and there were lines at the pumps (you thought it was bad now?)

People were afraid to travel, international commerce was on a downspin that we thought was the end of civilization and thoughts of recovery were insane. Inflation was skyrockeing and the dollar was becoming useless in the world market.

FRENCH was being considered to be the international language, because the English language belonged to England and the United States, and who were they?

Oh, and don't forget the kind of guys like Andropov in the Soviet Union. We were a scared country, with no where to run.

If what Reagan did was destruction; I'll take some more of that. And the 16 million jobs he created too.

by Jeremy on June 7, 2004 12:26 AM

Gentleman, may I present GuerrillaRadio. GR, these are a few of the knights. I do thank you for your civility here, GR. You come back frequently so you either enjoy what you read, or like debate ;)I did have something all typed out in reply to our little discussion going on over at Kris' blog, but as she received a frightening and rather rude e-mail from someone (we decided it wasn't you), she deleted the whole post. All I ask is that you fight fair and with honor.

Have at it boys. This fair lady will be watching from the stands.

by Rae on June 7, 2004 12:57 AM

Im sorry to hear that, but no i sent no such email....i was actually enjoying the discussion. I do indeed love what i read, its cool to see the opinions of someone so different from myself!

In my opinion Reagan re ignited the cold war, after a period of good terms with the Soviet Union under Ford and Carter. Reagan certainly did nothing to stop it, infact he escalated a new arms race. Patrick, saying he ended it is nothing short of a joke. The USSR was suffering from massive internal problems. Heres a quote from the great communicator himself...

"Let us be aware, that they are the focus of evil in the modern world."

McCarthyism all over again? If thats not a cold warrior Patrick, i dont know what is.

Jeremy you say Iran 'had us by the neck.' Maybe they did. And the only way they got off America's neck was thanks to Reagan giving them missles in exchange for hostages. So much for not bargaining with terrorists...Reagan then proceded to lie, and deny giving Iran anything. His diary later proved he personally authorised it. It had to own up. You've probably heard of this.

16 million jobs? Never heard that one where are the figures from? not saying it isnt true, im just curious.

by GuerrillaRadio on June 7, 2004 09:01 AM

His inauguration day the hostages were released after 444 days of captivity.

THEY knew he would be one to be reckoned with and would not sit still as Carter had.

THAT speaks volumes.

by GrumpyBunny on June 7, 2004 11:09 AM

I remember it well.

In the '70s there was massive inflation and by '78 it was all anyone talked about. Prices of everything from gasoline, milk, bread, utilities, everything, were going up at rates of 8%, 10%, 12% per year!

The idealism of the '60s / early '70s had given way to an unfocused, bland society trying to dance to disco all night while just hoping that, if we ignore them, the Soviet Union would just go away.

Detente was a sham. In late '79 the USSR invaded Afghanistan and President Carter realised that he had to make foreign policy a focus. He threatened military force - while reinstituting registration for Selective Service (the draft) - in an effort to keep the Soviets from moving into Pakistan and to the Arabian Sea.

The gas lines, the Three Mile Island near-disaster and the failure and destruction of SkyLab all happened within a very short time in the spring of '79.

The Shah of Iran was overthrown by Islasist fundamentalists, and by the fall, 52 Americans were being held hostage.

Everything was a mess and the state of the Union was perfectly described (by Hamilton Jordan, I believe) as a "national malaise".

Then, in the spring of '80, there was a rescue attempt and several servive man and two helicopters were lost in the desert of Iran.

We just smacked our collective palm into our forehead shouting "Can't we do anything right anymore?!"
The doubt was palpable, stifling, alomost paralyzing when it came to looking for an optimistic outlook on the near future.

You looked to President Carter and all you could see was trouble. He seemed to have aged 15 years in 4. We must be in deep trouble; just look at this man's face.

Then Reagan showed up. Maybe we didn't hear a lot of specifics; just a bunch of talk about getting government off our backs, standing up to tyrants, getting the economy moving again. But, he exuded confidence, courage and optimism about the near future.
All we had to do was reduce the size and scope of government's influence on the economy; then just restore our belief in ourselves and our values and, by golly, everything will turn up roses.
As if saying it would make it so.

We'd seen what a Carter presidency looked like and weren't too thrilled at the idea of more of the same. So, we took a chance on Reagan.

The crackdown on the Solidarity labor union movement in Poland, in December '81, showed us again just what the Soviet Union represented. Government control over the people and their productivity.

To believe that offering a man only what he needs will inspire him to produce according to his ability is a fantasy that everyone living under such a system can attest to. Reagan didn't need to live under Communism to understand it because he instinctively knew that freedom is the natural state of man, and government's function is to serve the People.

"That, to secure these Rights, governments are instituted among men deriving their just Powers from the consent of the Governed."
--the Declaration of Independence

It was after the institution of martial law in Poland that Reagan said that the Soviet Union was "the focus of evil in the modern world" and he. was. right.

Reagan said that "we will not defeat Communism, we will transend it." By that he meant that, by persistently shining light into the dark nooks and crannies of just what Communism was and what it did to people, it will lose it's mask and even the Soviet leaders will have to come to grips with what they've done to the spirit of their people.

He called the USSR "evil" -- several times -- and never backed down from that. He explain what he meant to clearly that, eventually, the leaders of the Kremlin began to understand it themselves.

After making the case for years that economic opportunity and the competition of free markets is the way to prosperity, the rhetorical killer blow came in June, 1987 at Brandenburg Gate.

"There is one sign the Soviets can make that would be unmistakable, that would advance dramatically the cause of freedom and peace. General Secretary Gorbachev, if you seek peace, if you seek prosperity for the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, if you seek liberalization: Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, OPEN this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!"

And it was done, and seemingly sooner than anyone thought it would happen. Except for maybe Ronald Reagan.

"The wall cannot withstand the Truth; it cannot withstand Freedom" he said that day. That's why he said those words over and over.
The Soviet could not withstand an arms race. That's why he invited one.

Now millions in Eastern Europe are free because detente, appeasement, appologism, all took a back seat to visionary ideas, bold words and decisive action in the 1980s.

Even when his own advisors and cabinet members try to tone him down, he knew better. It was often their judgement that acting more cautiously, reticently, and speaking more diplomaticly could do more for the cause peace and freedom than to challenge openly the very justification of Communism.

Ronald Reagan's judgement was better.

by Tuning Spork on June 7, 2004 07:08 PM

Rae, I hope y'don't mind that I "double posted" this and put it up as an entry on my own blog. I was wondering why I hadn't been inspired to write a Reagan tribute yet. Yer thread inspired the above comment and I figured that might be as good I'm gonna get on this topic. :)

by Tuning Spork on June 7, 2004 07:13 PM

TS, that was just beautifully written. Well done, good sir, well done. I don't mind at all.

by Rae on June 7, 2004 10:47 PM

Hello Rae, thank you for your compliment back on Miss Barber's blog.

I was reminded of something said to me by a good friend when I was younger. He was an older God-fearing man giving me some life instruction. He told me, people may not always remember what you do or say, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

I think this speaks volumes about Mr. Reagan's character and integrity. I don't really remember all of his speaches and not too many details about his policies, but I've always remembered how he made me feel whenever I saw him on T.V. I grew up during the Reagan years in a household of serious democrats, my parents and siblings always demonized Republicans, especially Mr. Reagan. For some reason though, inspite of all of their naysaying, I would still get an overwhelming feeling of security, comfort, and awe when I heard and saw him speak. This is one aspect of my childhood that I remember and find very difficult to forget, not that I am trying to. It wasn't until later in my adult life that I began to really research His career as president and was able to put some facts and figures behind the emotion. I thank God that I was able to really learn about him as a man and as a President before his passing, that I may be able to truly miss him and mourn him.

by Jerry McClellan on June 8, 2004 08:56 AM

I believe that Mr. Reagan was the first president to call a spade a spade in that he referred to the Soviet Union as "the evil empire." In doing so, he truly distinguished that democracy and freedom are what inspires mankind to greatness.

Very true, Jerry, we do often remember more how someone made us feel, rather than their exacts words.

by Rae on June 8, 2004 10:46 AM

Communism is not evil. Communism has represented freedom in the countries of Vietnam and Cuba. The U.S backed dictatorships in both these countries previous to revolutions, but they were not 'evil' as they were pro U.S. 'Evil Empire' is a total sham....The USSR was not an empire anymore than the U.S is and it certainly wasnt evil. Its individuals who were evil. Just trying tip the scale here, i think the whole Evil Empire thing is a joke...

by GuerrillaRadio on June 8, 2004 11:35 AM

I'm sorry GuerillaRadio, but Communism is evil. Let me tell you why.

Any political system or ideology that subjugates man to the state, that claims that man was made for the state rather than the state for man, is evil. Communism asserts that the collective is what is most important not the individual. In communists states the individual is not permitted to strive to be the person God intended him to be. Instead he is made to conform and serve the body rather than pursuing his dreams with the talents and gifts with which the Creator has endowed him. Communism asserts that there is one best way and what's worse is it claims that the state knows that one best way.

"Communism has represented freedom in the countries of Vietnam and Cuba."

With all due respect, you are either high or being intentionally contrarian for the sake of argument. Cuba and Vietnam are free? That's news to me. Maybe you should have a chat with the journalists who are imprisoned in Cuba and the people who are forbidden to leave. Perhaps you should inform the woman of China who are forced to abort their babies or undergo sterilization that they are free. Maybe you should call a North Korean on his cell phone and let him know that he in fact is free. Oh wait, the Korean government doesn't allow him to own a cell phone anymore.

"The USSR was not an empire anymore than the U.S is and it certainly wasn’t evil."

Again, you are either intentionally misrepresenting the facts or you are high. The USSR epitomized and empire. They aggressively sought to conquer and subjugate nations and assert their authoritarian communist rule over them. They set them to work serving the state and commanded that the manner in which they live be compatible with the Soviet Union’s totalitarian vision. This is an empire. It was an evil empire because it did this with malevolence and with no concern for the fabled workers paradise that unsurprisingly never emerged. It is further evil because it restricted the movement of its people. It had to hold on to them because it knew that a taste of freedom would destroy the illusion that the Communist state must maintain; that life sucks everywhere else and the workers’ paradise is glorious.

by Patrick on June 9, 2004 11:00 PM

GR, my friend's husband is from Russia. I asked his thoughts on Reagan's influence in the tearing down of the Iron Curtain and the breakup of the Soviet Union. While he disagreed with a few things, one thing he definitely agreed with was Reagan's defining communisim as an "evil empire." I told him your comment that "communism has represented freedom in Vietnam and Cuba." His repsonse, recall as someone who has lived under a communist government and therefore a direct source..."Well, he should go and live there if he thinks it is so wonderful."

by Rae on June 10, 2004 12:18 AM

P.S. Well said Sir Patrick :)

by Rae on June 10, 2004 12:19 AM

No i am assure you im not high, and Communism is no more evil than global capitalism or transnational corporations exploitation of third world labour. With all due respect, you clearly know little about Communism as a system of government, and are letting your religious ideals and blind patriotism run free in your writing. Communism, as it was intended has never existed in its true form. Men like Stalin have twisted it...warped it to their own specification. Truely, the regimes under Stalin and the regime in North Korea now would make Marx, Engels and Lenin turn in their graves.

Who are you tell me what system of government i should believe in, after so self righteously pointing out that Communists believe their way is best? You clearly believe your way is best, and so does America. I said Communism represented freedom in Vietnam and Cuba, because factually it did. I never suggested North Korea was free. Before Fidel seized power Cuba was ran by the dictator Baptista....who supported US business interests and was therefore US backed. He didnt give a damn about the Cuban people. Vietnam? Ironic, as i am seriously considering working there for a year to teach kids English. Same case as Cuba....US backed dictator holds power......and the great democracy of the US is to scared to hold a democratic election in the country, knowing full well that Ho Chi Minh will no doubt come to power.

You say all those things about the USSR being an empire when the US did exactly the same thing? They promoted the use of 'dollar diplomacy' to effectively bring virtually the entire of Latin America under their rule. The USA was JUST as aggressive in spreading its capitalist ideals as the USSR was in spreading its communist ideals. As far as im concerned, the US is no better than the USSR. It supported fascists because they were U.S puppets, and THAT is evil. They let people in Chile, in Vietnam, in Cuba and tens of other countries suffer because their right wing rulers supported U.S interests. THAT is evil. U.S foreign policy is revolved around its own interests and no one elses. Past and present.

There have been evil Communist leaders, (Stalin...the entire North Korean dynasty...) But i know Communism as a system is not evil, when the system of global capitalism has people working for less than a $ a day all over the third world. At least under Communism, your rights as a worker are guaranteed, and to be honest Patrick, like it or not a lot of people have chosen Communism over American Capitalism. America just cannot accept it (Note Vietnam war?) Anyway....Im no 'Commie.' I live in the UK, where as it happens there is a class system that after hundreds of years, is still set in stone. I guess you could call me a Marxism socialist.

Many leaders have spoke up and given their last respects to Reagan....past leaders who were his allies. I suppose it a shame that we wont be hearing from one of Reagans biggest allies....Saddam Hussein. How ironic.

by GuerrillaRadio on June 10, 2004 10:05 AM

GR- wait, I like it that you keep coming back even though it is obvious that your politics differ. So, don't be offended. Politics and mother-in-laws raise the ire of any human.

You have to understand, we only know democracy. And, through thick and thin, it has consistently worked, so how else are we to view a system that allows no freedom of expression, speech, or choice? While we, as a country, have made mistakes, we certainly have done a lot of good...can you not see that in any way?

Do you mind if I ask you how long you have lived in GB? I mean, have you ever experienced democracy or communism? It doesn't dismiss your opinions if you have or haven't; I am just curious where from where all your thoughts on Americans and our government come?

I need to show my neighbors how to work the comments so he can "speak" directly to this discussion. He is Russian and lived under the Communist Republic. He has also experienced democracy and he says that it wins, hands down.

And if no country has yet to truly implement communism properly so that it "flourished", then isn't that an indicator of it's doom to failure?

by Rae on June 10, 2004 11:51 PM

True, the US has done a lot of good i didnt dispute that. But i truly believe that in some circumstances, Communism has benefitted the people. For example, when the Soviets swept to power in 1917 the majority of everyday Russians really supported him. Ask your Russian friend about this maybe...Lenin also destroyed serfdom, so that for the first time Russian peasants actually owned the land they worked on, and didnt exist in a system that was incredibly similiar to slavery. Of course, everything changed when Stalin came into power.

Im 19 coming 20 and i was born in England....but when i was 2 my family moved to Seattle WA, as the majority of my British family emigrated there years ago. I lived in Seattle untill i was 11, then lived in Japan for a little under a year (My father is Japanese) then moved back to England where i have lived since. Ive finished college, where i majored in history (American,British,Russian) and im currently thinking about living in Vietnam for a year. I will be going to University in another year, for History,Politics and American studies. I'll have to live in the US again for 7 months.
Ive told all this, to maybe dispel the myth you may hold that i dont like America. Truth is, i love your country. I love the people, and its sheer vastness and diversity. I may even decide to live there again, one day.
Im just not a fan of right wingism, trickle down economics, and global capitalism. These things i believe benefit the middle and upper class, and drive the working class in a an even lower state.
As i said before im not a Communist, but i hold some Marxist and Leninist ideals that a classless and equal society CAN exist but has not yet been achieved. I do NOT believe in the Communism under which your Russian friend lived under. Marx himself wrote ''Democracy is the road to Socialism.'' This clearly is not what has happened in many communist countries. I am by no means anti-democracy, but i just have an intense dislike of Reaganism as a set of political ideals. To me, making fun of people with nothing to eat and spending money on defence instead of them is no way for a government to run.

by GuerrillaRadio on June 11, 2004 07:02 AM

Thanks for letting me know a bit more about you. I always like to hear the history of my commentors or blog writers.

So, you bascially think that it isn't "right" for a man or woman to be financially successful if their neighbor isn't also?

It's interesting, we have never forced our children to share anything. We have encouraged it, but ultimately left the decision up to them. When asked by a friend one time why we didn't force sharing, my reply rather shocked her, I think. I told her that we wanted for our children to desire to do what was right because forced sharing doesn't make someone generous, it only makes them resentful. I also told her that forced sharing reminded me of communism and likened it to this: a neighbor has no table. You have two. So, the police/government comes and takes one of the tables and gives it to the neighbor. Now, the neighbor has a table on which to eat. However, you have one less and it was decided for you that would give it. Does that make you a good citizen? Does that make you a good person?

Now, in parenting, there are situations that require me to decide for the child, simply because they lack the maturity to do so for themselves. But, in good parenting, you parent yourself out of a job and in the end, you have a person ready to give because it is the right thing to do, not because he is obligated.

by Rae on June 11, 2004 08:34 AM

What i dont think is right is men profiting off the hard work of other men, while this other men (or women) that do that work live in poverty and lack rights. Reagan and Thatchers work to destroy industrial unions, to me is a blatant attack on the workers. Sharing? Sure thats a matter a choice. What a socialist system would do is provide a level playing field for everyone, instead of keeping the rich rich and the poor poor. Socialism in essence gives everyone a job, and everyone an equal opportunity. It doesnt involve giving to keep others happy. I think its the job of a central government to make sure there is work for the people, and to not let the workers be exploited by big companies. The way of keeping things fair in business is obviously unions....how are workers supposed to bring change, when they cant even bargain collectively?

by GuerrillaRadio on June 11, 2004 10:18 AM

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Rae at 11:56 PM | Comments (22) | A Fine Memory
» BLATHER REVIEW links with: Some thoughts on the Old Man (A day late but hopefully not a dollar short)

The Fruit of My Mind

I think it is the seasons that I miss most.

Strawberry season was first, the end of April/first of May. I would take the girls and grab a few wooden crates. They would remove their shoes and slide their feet in the loose dirt around the vines. Pledging to touch nary a berry, they would place a few in my flat and proceed to fill their bellies to overflowing. When I stopped by a friend's home to drop off one of the many flats, she told me before she saw the berries that I smelled "wonderfully sweet."

Next the blueberries popped out in splendor on their small bushes. I didn't particularly enjoy the cheap tasting ice-cream that came in five gallon buckets, but they were fun for the children to use in their picking. My favorite place to pick was off of a precarious dirt road in Barton County. There the grower would pleasantly greet us and point us in the direction of the kind of berries we preferred. All I remember was the row of the extra sweet, my personal favorites. We moved along the rows plucking the small blue beads. Once again, there were more berries on hands and faces than in the buckets. I would take them home, rinse them, and freeze them on baking sheets. We could eat them as snacks or I could measure them out for muffins for a Saturday morning breakfast.

Cherries from a neighbor's hard picking were pitted and pied and pulled out for quick snacks at summer swim meets.

In the midst of a humid Missouri summer came the blackberries. We once had a home that was literally surrounded by bushes that were at minimum 20 feet deep. Needless to say, the rabbits abounded in the protection of the briars. The nicks were a small sacrifice for the plump berries that would burst in your mouth, or on fingers if not delicately picked. The insects could be intense at times, competing for the juicy sweet prize.

Apples from Kuhn's Orchard were the best I ever had. In that old barn, I was introduced to crisp Pink Ladies (now a family favorite); tart Granny Smiths with green skins; gorgeous Galas elegantly flecked with gold. The cider was frozen in a milk style gallon jug. Warmed up on a fall evening, it made our hands almost as warm as our hearts.

I always identified well with Scarlett's love of the land; Missouri is my Tara and I cannot wait to return to her. I love her strong oak arms; her moody temperament; how she draws the sweat from my body as a sacrament unto her; how her girdth and height spans cultures and ethnicities. Through her and supporting her are the rivers of life and hold so much history of this continent. Yes, she is my Tara; I will return home, someday.

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Rae at 11:41 PM | Comments (1) | A Fine Memory

So Sad

but completely understandable.

Goodbye and farewell to a terrfic blog couple. All the best to you. This says it perfectly for me:

"The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you. The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace."

Numbers 6:24-26

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Rae at 12:12 AM | Comments (0) | A Fine Memory

Garden of Verses

Kelley's post (she has some lovely shots up of her garden) prompted my thoughts this morning (which I shared with her via e-mail).

We used to live in the Midwest and I knew just about every wildflower on the side of the road, definitely every tree (thanks to my very knowledgable R) and bird, and every "domesticated" plant around.

Read more Garden of Verses »

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Rae at 11:04 AM | Comments (0) | A Fine Memory

November 2005
Sun	Mon	Tue	Wed	Thu	Fri	Sat
		1	2	3	4	5
6	7	8	9	10	11	12
13	14	15	16	17	18	19
20	21	22	23	24	25	26
27	28	29	30

October 06, 2005

Head on Straight

October 04, 2005

At Close of Day

September 18, 2005

September 17, 2005

Night

August 26, 2005

Playground

August 12, 2005

July 28, 2005

First and Fourteen

July 05, 2005

Cherubim

July 03, 2005

Glorious

June 30, 2005

Bugged

June 28, 2005

Dwell

June 15, 2005

Sad Goodbye

May 17, 2005

Water into Wine

April 18, 2005

Now I lay me down to sleep

April 11, 2005

I met Maxine during an

April 03, 2005

A Little Moonlight

March 29, 2005

Ready or Not

March 28, 2005

The Scent of a Woman

March 27, 2005

My favorite account of the

March 25, 2005

Chopin's Ballade in G minor,

March 18, 2005

A Few More Than You

March 17, 2005

Rain, Rain Come Today

March 15, 2005

The Golden Days

March 01, 2005

Pink Moon

February 26, 2005

El viaje

Tap your slippers together three times while saying

February 11, 2005

Don't Blink

January 24, 2005

Life Means So Much

January 12, 2005

Gracias

January 11, 2005

Comment Fun(draising)

January 04, 2005

Pattern Recognition

December 30, 2004

For The Magnanimous Heart

December 28, 2004

Say Goodnight Rae

December 26, 2004

Offically Sappy Post- Negative Commentors need not reply

December 24, 2004

The Soul Felt It's Worth

December 19, 2004

Superheroic World Wide Entertainment

December 15, 2004

Just Perfect

November 30, 2004

Top Ten Reasons for Driving Across Country Instead of Flying

November 25, 2004

Thanks and Thanksgiving

November 23, 2004

To the Place I Belong

November 16, 2004

Two Jerks and a Baby; One Man and a Lady

October 29, 2004