Favorite Things

The newest and most interesting thing that has happened lately is that my daughter met her 1/2 sister this weekend! I am so happy for both of them...I thought about the birth mother often as Rachel was growing up and dreamed of meeting again someday and completing the circle. The mother died years ago, so that will never happen, but the meeting of the two sisters delights me more than I can say. They met in the town where we lived when Cal was in grad school and where Rachel was born and where the sister now lives. Madison, Wisconsin. History colliding all over the place. WOW.

Chuck, our builder extraordinaire, called our roof - chia roof. Moss was growing in the gutters and on the roof. I planted the moss in my shady Where-The-Wild-Things-Are garden, but the birds kicked it all up looking for worms. I thought to have an award winning exotic moss garden, but ain't going to happen. Meanwhile, my blue morning glories will soom be starting their climb around the front door. Can't wait!

I found a biking trail that suits me perfectly - about 12 level miles with food. I am enjoying biking again - in the city and exploring the trails. Another evidence of the childhood I seem to be recreating at Tiny Castle. An old favorite thing.

Cal made crepes Saturday night and filled them with hazelnut chocolate and warm strawberries...to die for. A new favorite thing.

This week I start Yoga. We'll see if that becomes a favorite thing, too.

Wishing you a day full of favorite things...
Love,
Mary

Sunrise at Tiny Castle

Good Morning!
It’s been a while since I have watched sunrise come to tiny castle.

The windows in the house now all have blinds or shades that I can open to let in the dawn. Such civilization!...and the small ritual of opening the house to bring in the day affords me much pleasure.

Today tiny castle gets a new roof. The back half of the house still sports the original cedar shakes from 1928. Don’t ask me why they only laid new shingles on the front half of the roof. I, too, am baffled by it, but I would guess only the front part of the roof was leaking.

I enjoy the backyard drama in my tiny garden. The birds, squirrels and rabbits seem to know each other very well and have developed a system of empting my bird feeder that keeps everybody happy. The squirrels climb the shepherd’s hook and hang upside down on the birdfeeder, tipping it so that the feed falls to the ground for the bottom feeders. Here comes everybody…the doves, the rabbits, all the scratchers and nibblers...The rabbits are skitterish when the squirrels are around and the squirrels are frightened of the rabbits so it’s great entertainment. Talk about a social network. Who needs facebook?

My daughter, Rachel and her husband will be going to Madison, Wisconsin to meet her ½ sister for the first time. They discovered each other sometime after Christmas and have been emailing and facebooking. I wish them both well. As Rachel says - “How do you prepare for a thing like that?”

Not working brings out a more domestic side of me. Today I am baking as I listen to my roof literally crumbling about my head.

And it’s a beautiful day here in Beaverdale.

And that’s the news from Tiny Castle.

Advent Wanderings and Letter to Rosa

Hi Everyone,

Welcome to my advent wanderings. Just bear with me and we'll get through this rather long blog just fine.

Our first house in Pella was about 6 blocks from the cemetery and made for a lonely walk when we first moved here. Although I recognized the names on the grave stones as Dutch names, they were different the Dutch names I grew up with in Michigan. I didn't know a soul among all those names and it emphasised that I was indeed a stranger in a strange land. The cemetery became a place to have a good cry and then get on with living.

Last Christmas, Rosa, my boss at the bookstore where I work, my daughter, Rachel, and I went to Judy's house to see her collection of Nativities. Judy bought a nativity from our store most years and we would always think about her when we were putting them out for display at Christmas, wondering if she would like any of them this year. Rosa was always happy if we had an especially unusual nativity to show her.

She lived in a Victorian mansion on one of the oldest streets in town and each room was filled with her nativity collection. Rosa and I told her every year that we wanted to see her collection and last year we made it. Judy had been given a second change at life that past year. She had experienced what they thought was a stroke and her recovery was a complete miracle...except for the pain in her shoulder. She died four months later of cancer.

The other day while our house was being shown by a realtor, I drove to the cemetery and took a walk among all the rows of names...But living 28 years in Pella, I can now find the place where my friend's stillborn baby lies, Cal's folks are buried here and some of the teachers of my children...Judy is here, too. Much to my surprise I know almost all the names now. The cemetery is full of friends and acquaintances. Somewhere along the way, I lost my stranger status.

In moving to Des Moines we aren't just leaving Pella, we are leaving our community.
That's what my walk in the cemetery told me.
And cemeteries remain a good place to have a cry.

Cal and I bought a house in Des Moines on 4043 Ashby Ave. I affectionately call it "Tiny Castle" as it is a modified Tudor style. Cal and I both liked the size of the rooms and the layout. I have a vision for the house, but it needs a lot of work and we are anxious to restore this house and make it our home.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cal and I have been trying to focus more on Advent this year. Christ has come. Christ is Coming Again. We are in the same place as Israel was the first time. The days appear dark at times and we are longing for his Kingdom to come.

I think of being in "advent" as being pregnant with expectation. It is a helpless feeling. We don't know when the baby will come, we don't know when the promise will be realized. And so we wait. Sometimes we wait with hope, sometimes with despair. We try to be attentive to the present moment, but that darn baby keeps moving around and distracting us. And so we give up and sit with our dreams in our lap and plan for the future. That's what advent has come to mean to me and the waiting for our house to sell and to move seems to feed my longing for Advent.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Rosa,

This year at the staff Christmas Party I was delighted to receive the picture frame with the words, "We have shared together the blessings of God." Rosa, I will always think of you when I hear those words.

You are my Sister in Christ. We HAVE share his blessing. We have wanted the best for each other. We have demanded little of each other. We have tried to be there for each other. We have accepted each other and enjoyed each other. We let each other fly. For me this has been a great joy.

I will never have a job that I have enjoyed and had so much fun doing as working for you at Gosselinks. I love your giggle and your sense of humor and your honesty. I've enjoying watching your fly by the seat of your pants. Your ability to welcome people and speak at the drop of a hat has awed me. Your generosity and creativity in giving us all unusual and interesting gifts (Like going to Wicked) is over the top.

I have appreciated your ability to share my dreams. I have appreciated your flexibility. And your curls.

I want to tell you how I have loved and respected you for all the things that you have done over the years for me and for the store and for your devotion to your family.

I hope I will be able to be of some service to you and help to make the next months a little easier.

Thank you for everything. And Merry Christmas.

Love,
Mary

My New Bike

Oh my goodness.

I have a new bicycle.

It's a girls' bike with fat tires. (The last time I had a girls' bike, I was ten. I bought my first 10 speed when I was in my teens and it had the boys' bar..I was no sissy.) And now, here I am, once again sitting upright on my cushy seat. I have baskets to carry things and mud flaps. I feel like a kid. I ride on sidewalks. I ride through grass. I need a bell. I don't wear my helmet all the time. I am so cool.

Bikes have always been a part of my life. One summer in Kalamazoo, it was my only transportation to work and college. I loved not having to find parking spots and trying different streets and going places no car had ever gone before. I don't remember sweat or rain or flat tires. I loved my bike.

Maybe the reason I married Cal - besides the fact that he liked to cook - was that he rode a bike too. Bikes have been part of our marriage. In fact, being able to ride a tandem with a happy spirit has become our test of a good marriage. I'm sure you've heard that wall papering can be hard on marriages. Well, so can tandems.

Thanks to Marty (our bike guy) and Cal, I ride the newest model of Treks 7000. I wanted the bike to look like a 1950's model, but I also wanted the 21 gears...and this works. It's black and silver. I wanted red - there's just something about a red bike, but tandem riding also teaches you compromise.

And my rack...WOW. I was thinking perhaps some wire baskets on the back, but nowadays you have these removable canvas bags that can hold gallons of milk. Amazing. I unhook my bags, load up at the grocery store and hook them back on the bike. I'm ready to go. No paper or plastic. Look, mom! I'm GREEN.

Br-r-r-r-ring.

An update on house hunting. I found my dream house in Des Moines. It's tiny and needs about 20,000 dollars of work. It's more of a cottage than a house...but I will hold it lightly. The timing is way off. We continue to make progress on getting our current house up to snuff. Last weekend it was the back yard and now we are ready for the new deck to be built. As much as I dread selling this house, it's nice to think of a dream house waiting for me. Patience, Mary, Patience.

Stay tuned for the very BEST time of year. Fall.

Love,
Mary

Gone Fishing

My, it's hard to write a blog when you are not biking across the United States. The days of my life so often are just more of the same. I hate to think that my life is boring, but most of it is not blog-worthy.

Almost everyday Cal and I talk about where we were at this time last year. Remembering the day before he had his accident was very strange....knowing what would be happening to Cal within 24 hours. I am glad that preknowing is not a part of my everyday life.

We just spent a week at a cabin in Minnesota with another family. We've been doing this for years and now our wee ones are adults or almost. AND bringing spouses along! It a great thing to have this measuring stick for the changes in our families. As much as I fight against traditions with my rebellious spirit, this tradition makes sense to me and seems to work. There is something for everyone at the lake. My favorite is the loons....their wild laugh and haunting calls relax my spirit and remind me that I am not in my usual place. The men do all the cooking...catching fish and smoking meat. The water is clean, clean, clean and I feel I have better swimming abilities here in Minnesota. (At least my fat cells are more productive here, I can float forever.) This year I got a fishing license, but obviously the fish have nothing to fear from me. But the minnows might. I use them for bait and can heartlessly thread one on a hook all by myself. I read gobs of books, try to stay out of the sun and visit Park Rapids like an old friend. I get to know my children in a different way...no longer tying to keep them safe and happy. That pressure is gone. Now they are fellow pilgrims, walking through their lives and discovering who God made them to be in their own ways. Not always easy to watch, but easier to simply love.

What else? I am trying to lose weight, and only having minor success. I am to be more structured and only having minor success. I am trying to be more honest with myself and only having minor success.

Cal and I are planning to move to Des Moines at some point in the next year and that seems to keep me on my toes and excited about the future. I will miss Pella more than I can imagine, but something drives us on...not for "more," but for different opportunities. But we have been happy in Pella.

So there you are...all caught up.
I celebrated another birthday and I'm 53 years old.
Hope all of you are thriving in God's plan to give you a hope and a future.

Love,
Mary

The Fireplace Room

Today I am cleaning the tiny fireplace room. It is my favorite place in the house. (When you live in a house long enough, the rooms evolve into what they want to be. I can’t tell you how many of my rooms have fought me from becoming what I first intended and once they settled themselves, didn't want to be anything else.)

My friend, Linda, told me that the decorating choices you make usually have a reason…and I am leaning how to track down the memory that is stirred and enjoy it double, then and now.

The fireplace room is a tiny piece of my grandparent’s house in McBain, Michigan. A 1920’s to 40’s feel. It has a generous arts and crafts rocking chair similar to the chair that my grandmother rocked three times to push her over-plump body to her swollen feet. It has tall dark plant stand like the one by the seldom used front entry door. I remember wormy squiggly catus plants and other succulents with leathery leaves and snake plants and African violets in the entry way. (Up in the attic was a dried money plant and a vase of scary looking peacock feathers whose eyes terrified me as a little girl...I think I’ll go buy some…)

There was an old waterfall floor radio that made static or high pitched whiney noises when we tried to push the buttons or turn the knobs. I have a small 1920 retro radio that makes the same wonderful click when you turn it on.

My grandparents had a scratchy platform rocker in pinkish beige. I too have an old platform rocker in unfortunate green and gold stripes of a slightly more modern pattern but the right colors for my room. There was a small old book case with a glass door behind the rocking chair with wonderful saintly old books that my sisters would read on every visit. My fireplace room has a small bookcase with nothing published too recently.

I don’t have the cabbage roses on my carpet…and they didn’t have a fireplace. But they had a TV with rabbit ears. And I have my computer. The fireplace comes from other happy memories…

I don’t think I knew my grandparents as people very well, but I experienced a gentle contentment in their house that was a buffer from my real world that was heading toward the 1960’s and my personal world in which I would soon be a teenager. In my fireplace room, I created for myself a little of the magic that lived at my grandma’s house, a place caught between the marvels of electricity and homemade bread with jam every morning.

What is your favorite room?

Love,
Mary

Summoning God

Greetings!

Spring has come. Birds are singing outside our bedroom window in ways that make it very hard to get up. I just want to snuggle back down and listen. They make rotten alarm clocks.

I think about things...usually at 3:00 in the morning... fun things that I bat back and forth in my head until I arrive at the comforting conclusion that I don't have to understand everything about God and the universe and go gracefully back into that good night.

What! You don't have these early morning conversations with yourself! I forget that I am a 5 on the Enneagram scale. If you don't like nocturnal musings of a paradoxical nature you may want to leave this posting now...don't say I didn't warn you.

Here it is.

On the wall in the chapel where I receive spiritual direction is a sign. "Bidden, or not bidden, God is present." Jung popularized the saying, but it was discovered among the Latin writings of Erasmus. "Vocatus atque non vocatus, Deus aderit."

I find great solace in that sign for many reasons. It reminds me that God is sovereign, "above all praise", whose omniscience and omnipotence reach to the farthest imaginable recesses of this world. Those are good Calvinist words.

In response, all I can do is "come as I am," for it is I who need to be summoned. I need the grace to prepare and open my heart for the God who is already present because of the work of Jesus' death and resurrection. I am the one who needs to come close to celebrate his presence and to receive all he has for me, and ask for the grace to bring down barriers that block his presence from my life.

And yet, so often in church I sense we are waiting for God to "show up." How can that be? When we call on God, what happens? When we wait on God, what is it we do? I can feel so forlorn in those situations when we are singing, clapping, waiting for some movement from God. I look around me. Everyone seems to be trying so hard to bring God. Ernest, sincere people, hungry for God. Every week is the same. Desperate for God to come. And every week, I wonder who is summoning whom. (or is it "who.")

What if He is already there waiting for us...even before we begin to sing? What if all we needed to do is open our hearts to the loving Presence that is already waiting for us? Ready to bless, instruct, convict, heal...

Whom exactly are we calling to worship?

“Lord I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.”

Obviously, I need to think about this some more - realizing that it might just be semantics that I have become sensitized to or perhaps one of those paradoxes that I will have to accept - probably at 3:00 some morning.

Love you,

Mary