Sacramental Summer

Apologizing once again...but summer days are fleeting and I want to spend the time enjoying them. So blogging is being back-burnered a bit and I should think reading blogs should be back-burnered a bit for all of you! Go out and stand in the sunshine or the rain or the lake. Take a deep breath. Breathe out a praise to the Lord who knows we need seasons to come and go and kick us out of the ruts of routine that we tend to stick the plow of our lives in.

"Nature to a saint is sacramental. If we are children of God, we have a tremendous treasure in Nature. In every wind that blows, in every night and day of the year, in every sign of the sky, in every blossoming and in every withering of the earth, there is a real coming of God to us if we will simply use our starved imagination to realize it."
~Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

Go out and feed your imagination.

Summer Dreaming

In the shade of this old tree
in the summer of my dreams
By the tall grass by the wild rose
where the trees dance as the wind blows

As the days go oh so slowly
as the sun shines oh so holy
On the good and gracious green
in the summer of my dreams

By the banks of this old stream
in the summer of my dreams
By the deep pool where the fish wait
for the old fool with the wrong bait

There's a field of purple clover
there's a small cloud passing over
And the rain comes washing clean
on the summer of my dreams




See the raindrops on the grass now
just like diamonds lying there
By the old road where I pass now
there's a twilight in the air

And as the sun sets down before me
I see my true love waiting for me
Standing by the back porch screen
in the summer of my dreams

Summer of My Dreams by Kathy Mattea

Maybe it's just the vacation peace still lingering, but this song just seemed so summery, dreamily sweet that I had to share it. Forgive the shmaltz--I will get back to real, deep, and serious writing soon enough.

Just in case you wondered.....

Thanks to my friend Amy for this picture of the house (taken from the lake) in the process of painting. The swatch I posted just didn't do the new color justice. You can see the old color (or really, lack of color) on the back two story section. Thankfully, we are finished with the first coat now. Anyone want to come to a "paint the second coat" party? Pizza's on us!

Things I saw while riding on the back of the motorcycle

We took a ride on the bike up to Milford tonight, ending up having an ice cream from Stucchi's which we ate at the sidewalk seating. I've been commenting to people that one of the great things about riding on the back of the bike is that I can't do anything but ride, observe, and think. You really notice things that you don't see in a car.

Tonight I saw:

>English Oaks Montessori and School of Protocol. Seriously, that is the title. It's sadly too late to send my children here. Or my husband.

>Wizard of Wood. Great name for a woodworking shop.

>A beautiful...black....goat. I tried to find a picture online of one like I saw, but none of the images did it justice. It was at a cider mill barn. You'll just have to trust me on this one.

The Longest Day

Happy Summer Solstice!

What a beautiful day! I don't like to use this blog as a "journal", but I got to do so many great things today...

~Drank my Arabian Mocha Sanani blend coffee on the back deck looking out at the lake while reading the Friday paper, which had a great picture and blurp about a sewing camp for kids that had met at our church this past week. And a good review of "Get Smart".

~My hubby trimmed my hair. I know it doesn't seem that noteworthy, but it saved me from going back to the salon after only 2 weeks. And it looks good.

~Rode around the lake in a 1932 Ford Deuce Coupe. And then I got to drive it. After owning it since 1957 (yes, 51 years!), my father-in-law finally has his hobby car running and he and my mother-in-law drove it out today.

~Had a great lunch (BBQed chicken sandwiches) with my in-laws.

~Rode around the lake in the boat. In the sunshine. Hot enough for a bathing suit, but not sweat inducing. Strong sun, Michigan blue sky,and fluffy clouds. Enough said.

~Took a nap laying across the bed in the sunshine. Is it just me, or does that just make it more decadent than a couch nap? Purr...yawn!

~Went to see "Get Smart". Highly recommend it. I had never even seen the original series, but what a fun movie! James Bond action and stunts with Steve Carrell humor and his odd sweetness. The most I've laughed out loud in a movie in ages.

~Rode the motorcycle with Dale out to Fenton to The French Laundry for a late supper. Highly recommend it as well! They sell Zingermann's baked goods and use their bread in their sandwiches, and I had an awesome hazelnut cappuccino and chocolate croissant for dessert (the boss' favorite--would have brought him one if he'd been in town-next time!). Definitely going back for my birthday!


~Saw two wagons loaded with square bales of hay near Fenton. Some "country" things don't change!

~After a chilly ride home, there's still time to snuggle up with a new book while hubby watches HGTV. And it's only Friday night. Thank you, Lord for extra hours of daylight!


So what did you do with your
almost 15 hours of daylight today?

I'm Going to Kathmandu..

I stopped at the 7-11 for coffee last week. I know this must seem blasphemous to those of you who know that my son works at the Great Coffee Monopoly, but sometimes I just get in a hurry and don't want to make coffee at home. And my son never works in the morning, so I'm stuck only being able to get freebies that are decaf during his evening shifts, or an occasional latte made by Pedro (who as far as I know is neither Mexican or straight, but is totally adorable!) when I run by when I'm grocery shopping.

So, about once a week I stop in for amazingly good coffee that only costs $1.16 for a grande size. There is always a young man conscientiously cleaning and straightening up the coffee area, and in a friendly mood for not yet having had my morning fix I asked,
"Which one is your best coffee?"
With a slight accent he replied, "the regular roast."
"Really? Well, I'll try it." Always interested in people's accents, curiosity got the best of me. "Where are you from?"
"Nepal."
"Oh! I love Nepalese food!"
Ok, is that about the most lame thing you can say to someone from another country or what? I do love it though. We had the best Nepalese meal at a little restaurant in Frisco, CO of all places the day after we skied Arapahoe Basin.

(Kathmandu Cafe')


"Where do you get around here?" he asked (his English is a little broken).
"There used to be a great place in Royal Oak, Kathmandu Chulo, but it closed recently. There are probably other places around here though." Then I added, "I'd love to go to Nepal."
He said, "The mountains! Mt. Everest--you have to see. Everyone goes there."
"I would love to see it--the mountains there must be amazing!"
"Let's go!" he said with a smile.
I laughed. "Not today, I have work to do!"
I left, but couldn't help pondering throughout the day--what if I could just go to Nepal today?

People Who Make Me Happy!

"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy. They are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom" Marcel Proust

A short list of the charming gardeners in my life. (Forgive me if you're not on here. I love you too. It's not unabridged.)


My husband, who gets me and still likes hanging out with me after 25 years. Even if when I'm whiny. And just started playing electric guitar for fun. Quietly.

My funny, thinks-like-me daughter, who recently sent me this line in an email:

"you're super executive assistant woman! You can leap over tall stacks of bulletins in a single bound! You can generate multiple Google docs while counseling whiney parishoners! You can speak Pastor! The world of executive assistants to the pastor salutes you!"
(not that any of you are whiny....)

My son-in-law who uses words like "Ridiculous!" and "Amazing!" to describe anything he deems cool/fun/crazy and plays guitar beautifully and is just fun and at least does a good job of pretending he likes hanging out with us.

My dad, who still calls me 'a varmit'.

My mom, who calls me just to talk. A lot.

My sister who manages to be sweet and encouraging even while 8 hours away.

My sister-in-law who actually trusts me to give her child raising advice from time to time.

My mentally handicapped friend, Barb, who calls just to say she's excited about going bowling with a friend. And wears pants that say "I'm a keeper".

My boss (honest, I'm not sucking up...!), who can quote Seinfeld and The Office and Eugene Petersen and is willing to share enough hilarious stories about his daughters so we don't go nuts in the office.

My friend Amy, who laughs at my lame jokes and is willing to sing stupid songs with me. ("The greatest Sub of all...")

Forever grateful to you all.

"Laugh with your happy friends when they're happy; share tears when they're down. Get along with each other; don't be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don't be the great somebody. (The Message, Romans 12:14-16)

Live the Mission Here

From a great article in this month's Relevant Magazine titled "Fake Plastic World" comes this quote from a group of people who spent 3 months in communist China. They were challenged not only in their misconception of China, but also their thoughts about "mission work" in general:

"Some redefined thought patterns have been the incarnational realization that love without mission is fake; mission without love is injustice; and if we are not reaching out right now wherever we are with love, mission and excellence of work, why would we sincerely do that in another country?"

Caribbean Dreams

"The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page." ~St. Augustine

Ok, maybe that quote is a little highbrow for a trip to the Mayan Riviera, but it conveys the spirit that hubby and I like to take on any vacation. And so tomorrow we dive into the adventure of exploring a part of the Yucatan Penninsula. We plan to lay on the beach, snorkel with the sea turtles, swim in cenotes, and eat too much great food.

I get to use my passport for the first time!

"A passport, as I'm sure you know, is a document that one shows to government officials whenever one reaches a border between countries, so the officials can learn who you are, where you were born, and how you look when photographed unflatteringly." ~Lemony Snicket

Mine definitely fits this description.

I'll do my best to bring back some sunshine and heat for all the Michiganders. See you all next week!

Acceptance is a Bathingsuit Thing

"But part of being over 40 is accepting the fact that certain doors are closing--and growing up enough to notice that other doors are open." (Kelly Corrigan, 40, author of "The Middle Place" in an interview in More magazine)

I went bathing suit shopping this weekend. This was not as completely torturous as a friend pointed out it usually is due to two things. One, I'm buying it in anticipation of a week long trip to Cancun with my husband coming up in mere weeks, and secondly, I have lost over 15 pounds since the last time I bought one. But, alas, as I told my shopping buddy, even at a smaller size there are still difficulties. No matter what the size on the tag, they each fit differently, and as you wrestle one after another over your head or up your hips, the large store security tag pokes you under the armpit and you end up doing this weird hopping dance to get your feet through the holes! There also seems to be no rhyme or reason to the size match ups for tops and bottoms, neccesitating several trips back out to the racks for a "slightly larger or smaller" bottom to go with the "just a little bigger or smaller" top. And as you know, this means re-dressing and undressing yet again. The whole thing is just exhausting! I needed a nap when I got home, and hubby was only mildly enthused about my selection. "Why didn't you get a bikini?", he asked totally straight faced.

He doesn't get that I am willing to accept that certain doors--bikinis being one--are closed to me. But I am growing up enough to know that others doors are open. And that's why I bought the new jeans. On clearance. 2 sizes smaller than last year.

Another Day, Another Pie

As I was driving home from work on Friday, I heard an slightly annoying TV/radio personality saying something to the effect: "In honor of the leap day, more people should take advantage of February 29, as it provides an extra 24 hours in the calendar to catch up on miscellaneous errands." An extra 24 hours! Having been sick with a stomach bug for about 36 hours during the week (thus the lack of blog entries!), the thought struck me as a good one.

Except...the day had already passed. I had hurried off to work, completed my regular end of the week tasks, had several nice exchanges with visitors to the office (Friday seems to be 'drop by and say hello day' at our church), and then left a little early to make it to a physical therapy appointment for my current malady--tennis elbow (another reason for the lack of recent entries). It didn't feel "extra". It didn't feel special. As a matter of fact, due to a lingering "punky" feeling physically, and feeling emotionally let down by a couple of people, it felt pretty lousy. Even the good things seemed to backfire. Physical therapy felt great, but seemed to trigger every sore nerve in my arm making sleep nearly impossible. So as a far as "Leap day" goes, I am in agreement with my hubby who says "why don't they add the day to June?"

Now fortunately, there were bright spots to the evening. My hubby, sensing my mood (maybe it was the long litany of complaints on the phone?) brought me flowers. And a pie! Ok, the pie was more for him, but since I have a sweet tooth I inherited from my grandfather, it didn't hurt. We went out to a nice dinner at Pizza Coco. We also watched our DVR'ed episode of Lost, where I actually caught a reference by the character "C. (Charlotte) S. Lewis" that time moves slower on the island than in the real world--a blatant reference to Narnia, I think (for way deeper connections check here).

Yet despite the nice evening, as I weigh my feelings about the whole day, if given the choice I'd probably be willing to give the day back. In reality, it was an extra day. It was really added to the calendar and consisted of an extra 24 hours. But I had treated it like any other day. I didn't see it as a gift. I didn't even use the time to"catch up on miscellaneous errands" as pitifully insignificant as that would have been.

At around 1 am, the start of a new day technically, I tried to chase sleep by catching up on the daily scripture readings from last week's sermon. They included this verse:

"Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord's will is. " (Eph. 5:15-17)

The Message puts the first part of verse 17, "Don't live carelessly, unthinkingly."

What if I had remembered that morning that it was an "extra" day? If I had treated it not like a "Hallmark holiday", but like a special day that really mattered? Shouldn't I live every day that way? Each 24 hours here on earth may only be a moment in eternity, but it's up to me "make the most of every opportunity" .... to show love, to give encouragement, and to give thanks for each day. I don't need to wait another 4 years to start doing that.

The Skinny on My Mocha

According to a recent article in More Magazine (subtitle: "smart talk for smart women"), coffee may help women stay sharp. Researchers in France, who I'm sure were drinking those tiny little espressos, smoking and eating cheese, studied the effect of caffeine on 7,000 men and women. Running tests over the course of 4 years, they found that the women who drank the most caffeine (the equivalent to 3 cups or 300 milligrams a day), were better at remembering words and "less likely to lose their nonverbal memory than those who drank less caffeine." They think it has something to do with how the caffeine interacts with "estrogen receptors in the brain". To which I thought, "aaahh, I have estrogen receptors in my brain interacting with a stimulating substance! Great!" Researchers also found that it didn't have any effect on men's cognitive abilities. Bummer for them, although I'm encouraged that it doesn't stimulate testosterone receptors in their brains. Although that would explain the popularity of Starbucks.

My son started working at Starbucks a few months ago, so all this is great news for me. An avowed tea drinker for years (which is NOT the same as being a "teetotaler"), I started drinking coffee only a few years ago when I started working full time. It started with Mochas, which we all know are a gateway drug, and has progressed to Sulawesi Bold (still with non-fat cream & sugar, please). I think it was just a coincidence that my growing fondness for coffee and my new everyday-going-to-work-outside-the-home schedule coincided, but it was a great convergence. And now that we get a free pound of coffee every week, which is more than we drink in...I don't know--I haven't really figured out the timeline yet--but several weeks, I can indulge for significantly less moola. So, bring on the cognitive skills tests! Quiz me on what states Obama won! Ask me the name of that person I met last week! Just don't expect me to drink it black-I don't want to overstimulate my estrogen receptors, you know.

Stoke the Fire

February. Michigan. Snow. Sub-zero windchills. "I hate this state. I hate the snow. I hate my commute." said my husband after a particularly bad drive home. Me, in my eternal optimist guise, remarked, "You're being quite the pessimist." "If you can't be pessimistic in Michigan in February, when can you be?" He got me on that one. I could have shared that I'd been fighting a funk of my own for several days.

And it had been one of those days. You know, the ones where it feels like everyone needs a little piece of you? I'm finding the problem is I like the idea of being a mentor, helping those that are a little newer in their faith-walk move forward and grow. I like the idea of coming alongside those I minister with and listening and encouraging them. I like the idea of it. The problem is sometimes I just don't like the work of it. And it does involve work.

It can be hard to set aside what you're focused on and really listen to someone who is lonely. It takes patience to offer counsel to someone who is struggling with the same issue today as yesterday, and often the day before. It can be soul-wearying to encourage a co-worker when the same critics are continuing to drain the life and joy out of their ministry week after week. Doing these things is more than work. It's sacrifice. It's laying aside your own agenda, your own to-do list, your own life. It's choosing to lay your time on the altar as a sacrifice. Choosing to lay your stuff on the altar as a sacrifice. Choosing to lay your self on the altar as a sacrifice. It's never easy. It's usually very, very hard. Sacrifice always involves giving up something we hold dearly. What I always seem to forget though, is that God gives it back to you in a myriad of ways. He provides. He strengthens. And in the giving up, He gives joy.

Even in February. In Michigan. In snow. In sub-zero temperatures. So, burn something on the altar this week. See if it doesn't warm you up a little bit.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that.."

There is a new FREE! online service called Jott. With upbeat promises like "Never forget anything again!" and "Get more done every day!" and the endorsement of my boss (who is always finding the latest techie time savers) I signed up. With Jott, you simply call the Jott number programmed into your phone and wait for a friendly female voice to say "Who do you want to Jott?". You then say "me" or the name of any number of people you have set up online to receive your Jotts. The line then beeps and you leave a message of up to 30 seconds long. Jott then sends your message as an email or text message (you choose) to the destination you have programmed. There is also a feature for sending messages to individual folders, thus maximizing the efficiency.


Cool! If there was ever something an over 40 brain could use it's something to help it remember things. Like when you're driving to the store and go, "I forgot to call Jethro back today!" or "Remember to buy sticky notes!". When you get to work the next day, your email reminder is there waiting. You can leave other people Jotts, a feature my boss is already using for those times he remembers something as he's driving away that he meant to ask me to do. Very handy! I have just one problem. Jott and, as I've recently discovered, other electronic voice readers, don't always understand me. When the voice says "Who do you want to Jott?" I often have to say "me" several times, each time with a slightly higher, more nasally pitch. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that?" says the voice. "If you need help, say 'help'," she helpfully suggests. "Of course I need help I think. That's why I'm using this darn service! Rats! Now I don't even remember what I needed to remember!


I had the same experience trying to retrieve our errant oversized luggage after our ski trip. Due to a flight delay in Denver, we jumped on an earlier flight, assured our bags would make it (yes, we are gullible). Four did, but our skis and snowboard had to be sent later to a nearby airport. There were some major storms and they were delayed several days. In the meantime, I had to keep calling the airline to check on their whereabouts, so we could pick them up when they arrived. The friendly female voice and I communicated beautifully through airport destinations and arrival dates. After locating the correct files, she asked for my last name.

"Mallard", I said slowly and clearly.
"I believe you said 'N-a-v-o-r-y'," said the voice. "Is this correct?"
"No"
"My apologies, please say your name again."
"Mallard", I said, trying to speak crisply, without a hint of my still somewhat evident Hoosier accent.
"I believe you said 'Z-a-m-o-r-o-f-f'," said the voice. "Is this correct?"
"No!" I said forcefully. "I can't believe this thing!" I said to my husband sitting nearby.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that." said the voice calmly.
"I wasn't talking to you! I'd like to speak to an agent."
"I'll transfer you to an agent, but first I need some more information. What is your last name?"
"Arrgh!!"
"Transferring you to an agent."

This happened every time I called to varying degrees. Eventually we spoke to an actual person and then drove to the airport and got all of our stray luggage.


For the most part, my Jotts have come through clearly and I'm finding it is a useful tool. But there was the one that I sent to a friend encouraging them after they had had some difficult but neccessary interactions with people. I told them they did a good job speaking truth into their lives. But I'm not sure what I meant by "Be Skate. Live this week." Seems like good advice though.