I went to the grocery store today. Normally, I don't get very excited about going. Truthfully, I usually dread the chore, at least the part of bringing the groceries into the house and putting everything away. Sometimes, if I'm in a good frame of mind, I can appreciate the abundance and variety that is available and can spend a couple of hours wandering up and down the aisles. I look at new products, read labels, compare prices, juggle coupons and fantasize about enjoying cooking. Today I was eager to enter those automatic doors and grab a cart. What brought about this change of attitude, you ask? The answer can only be appreciated after knowing the background story.
Two weeks ago I acted on information I received in a letter from Maytag that stated I must get my refrigerator/freezer repaired or risk a fire. So, of course, I called Maytag and within two days, the repairman came. In short order he had replaced some "thingy" and he was on his merry way. A few hours later I decided I needed some ice cream (yes, needed - but that's for another blog). I opened the freezer door and discovered, much to my horror and disappointment, that the ice cream I needed had melted and that other things in the freezer were thawing. Now, I may not be a genius, but I determined that the freezer failure probably had something to do with the "repair." At this point, the repair company office was closed for the day, so I did the only thing I could think of - adjust the settings to a colder temperature and obey the rule, "DO NOT OPEN THE FREEZER OR REFRIGERATOR!!" It was a long night.
Adding insult to injury, I had to get up EARLY - 8 AM - the next day so that I could call the repair shop. I was told, "We'll try to work you in today." and I was thinking, "You'd better!" The same repairman came that afternoon and gave me the glad tidings that the compressor was kaput! BUT he had a magic solution called a hard starter which he installed, along with giving me sage advice on how long the compressor might work - anywhere from 1 day to 5 years. That was comforting................. By this time, the appliance had not been working for a full 24 hours. Day 1 of a non-working refrigerator after being "repaired." I was full of hope the hard starter would last the maximum. It didn't even last the minimum!
I placed another call to the repair shop. By this time, they recognized my voice. The previous visit the repair shop and Maytag had decided they would replace the compressor. It sounded good but I didn't trust that I was being told the truth. I needed to call and hopefully push them to an urgent response. It was now the beginning of Day 3 with no refrigerator. I had tried to triage the contents. What would fit in the dorm fridge in the garage? What would survive in a cooler? You just don't realize how much stuff you can cram into a refrigerator until you try to find another place for it all. I concluded that I didn't really need 6 flavors ice cream toppings, 4 different kinds of mustard, 3 types of pickles, 8 kinds of salad dressings, and 10 cheese varieties - cottage cheese, cream cheese, sharp cheddar shredded cheese, mild cheddar shredded cheese, mozzarella shredded cheese, quesadilla cheese, Mexican shredded cheese, Colby Jack cheese, Swiss cheese, and Havarti. Yes, I like cheese but do I need that much all at the same time?
I learned that an ice chest will not keep ice forever. Being raised by a mother shaped by the Great Depression, I was in anguish having to throw food away. What overwhelming guilt! Why, there are starving children in India! Nonetheless, toss it I did. I was thankful when trash pick-up day rolled around. One week later with no refrigerator, I called the repair shop again to track the shipment of the compressor. No compressor. The next day I received the wonderful news that the compressor had arrived and the repairman would be out the day after to install it. Then, I was told the most amazing thing! The caller said, "We'll call before the repairman comes to make sure someone is at home." I said, "You've got to be kidding! I've been without a refrigerator/freezer for over a week. I'm SURE I'll be home. I wouldn't miss it for the world!"
The compressor has been replaced and that hum is a beautiful sound. That is the reason for my excitement in going to the grocery store. I have a more keen appreciation for that marvelous appliance. I think the interior of the refrigerator will seem more spacious without all the excess. The leftovers won't get lost now. The dreaded job of cleaning out the refrigerator has been done. Best of all, my refrigerator looks new and performs like new, provided by Jehovah Jireh by way of Maytag. I'm wondering if God has a contract with Jenn-Air and Kitchenaid because I sure could use a new stove and dishwasher, and if it takes two weeks to get a stove.............. It will be a sacrifice but I'm willing to endure not cooking.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
God's Purpose
I've heard so many times that God has a purpose and plan for each life. Every time I contemplate the depth of that and analyze my purpose, the questions come flying at me. Have I found my purpose; what is my purpose; have I missed it? I can't imagine facing God and him saying to me, "I had great plans for you, Martha. I created you for a purpose, but you never found it." So, several years ago, during the angst of searching my soul, I concluded that my purpose had been and is mothering. It is certainly what I have spent most of my life doing.
Occasionally, God reminds me that I am doing just fine with the mothering thing. This week I received a message through Facebook from the daughter of a long time friend. She stated that I had always been another mother to her! This precious young woman is dealing with some issues resulting from father abandonment, so I called her tonight. Again she expressed appreciation that I am like a mother to her and know her history. God is so good to affirm me in my purpose.
Another way that I saw God's purpose for my life was realizing that most of my friends are young enough for me to be their mother. All young adults are not in need of another mother, but some are. They are the ones that God brings into my life. I pour into them encouragement, teaching, the wisdom of my experience (see my first blog) and, hopefully, an eternal perspective. In return I receive their youthful perspective, energy and humor. I like to think mothering is a win-win situation and I am blessed to be a part of their lives. I am so thankful to have been invited in!
I've lost count of how many children and grandchildren I have. Some were a part of my life for a season and others are forever. I became a mother for the first time at age 20 when my first child was born. Since then, I have had children of the heart and of the womb, a procession of different ages, needs and circumstances. However, one truth is constant: every child, no matter the age, needs and deserves love, respect, and wings.
Sometimes God's purpose and plan for your life can only be seen in retrospect. Keep looking for the patterns.
Occasionally, God reminds me that I am doing just fine with the mothering thing. This week I received a message through Facebook from the daughter of a long time friend. She stated that I had always been another mother to her! This precious young woman is dealing with some issues resulting from father abandonment, so I called her tonight. Again she expressed appreciation that I am like a mother to her and know her history. God is so good to affirm me in my purpose.
Another way that I saw God's purpose for my life was realizing that most of my friends are young enough for me to be their mother. All young adults are not in need of another mother, but some are. They are the ones that God brings into my life. I pour into them encouragement, teaching, the wisdom of my experience (see my first blog) and, hopefully, an eternal perspective. In return I receive their youthful perspective, energy and humor. I like to think mothering is a win-win situation and I am blessed to be a part of their lives. I am so thankful to have been invited in!
I've lost count of how many children and grandchildren I have. Some were a part of my life for a season and others are forever. I became a mother for the first time at age 20 when my first child was born. Since then, I have had children of the heart and of the womb, a procession of different ages, needs and circumstances. However, one truth is constant: every child, no matter the age, needs and deserves love, respect, and wings.
Sometimes God's purpose and plan for your life can only be seen in retrospect. Keep looking for the patterns.
Friday, October 2, 2009
A House without a Pet is Like a.........
Hello, my name is Martha and I have a love-hate relationship with my pets. I pray the Serenity Prayer daily to help me in this relationship. Sometimes, in irrational moments, I even ask myself, "Are these pets worth what they cost in time and money?" I hate those questions that make me be honest with myself. That's why I don't ask that question very often. I know the answer, but then I have to go on a philosophical binge to negate the answer.
There are three pets in my household, none of which I chose to have in a direct kind of way. The senior member is Hector Hootie, a cat of unknown pedigree but very similar to a Maine Coon cat. Don't laugh at his name - I didn't name him! I have no idea where the name "Hector" came from, but I do know that "Hootie" was from the rock group, Hootie and the Blowfish. Hector came by way of daughter #1. She just had to have a cat, so when a friend heard that she wanted one, he said, "I know where some kittens are!" So, there scampering around and in an abandoned car were kittens of different colors. Hector was the only kitten that allowed itself to be captured and it was his lucky day. Fast forward about six months and daughter #1 decided to move out into her own apartment. Yep, no kitties allowed. AND I never received cat support payments!
Pet 2 is Daisy the cat. Believe it or not, daughter #1 decided several years later that it was time for a kitten again. This time daughter #1 moved back home and brought Daisy. Somehow, Daisy was designated as an irritating kitty and banished to the dark reaches of the basement, outside of daughter's basement apartment. Eventually, feeling sorry for the lonely kitty, Daisy was invited into the main house. It was her lucky day. And no cat support payments for her either.
Pet #3 showed up at the back door of my mother's house on the day of my mother's death. I had just arrived back there from the hospital. The cute dog was being chased by other dogs. Of course I didn't want to be an accessory to murder, so I let the dog in the house. She never left, except to travel to my house. I named her Tuggles in honor of my mother, Tuggle being my maiden name.
Pets are expensive. Pets are time consuming. Pets are messy. Pets are annoying. I think about these characteristics as I pay the groomer, clean up a hair ball that's been thrown up on my oriental rug, brush white cat hair off my black slacks, pick up dog poop (again - on my oriental rug), clean out the litter box and sweep up litter, and try to soak up dog pee (sometimes on my oriental rug). Then there are the times I let the dog out the back door and she disappears and I'm in pajamas chasing her down in the neighborhood. OR Hector decides to sneak out as the dog is being let out at bedtime and I can't go to sleep until all my "children" are accounted for, so I'm out in the dark chanting, "Here kitty kitty! Come on Hector!" It's even worse when it's cold or raining. These are the times that I ask myself why I put up with this stuff.
My wise, philosophical self comes to the fore then to answer my question. Pets teach us so many lessons. Okay, they are expensive lessons. They are dependent on our compassion and care. Pets love us unconditionally. Even though Daisy was very upset that I tried to put her in a carrier to transport her to the groomer, she forgave me quickly and was on my bed nudging me with her head to indicate her desire to be petted in exchange for licking my hand. Since Daisy wouldn't co-operate, Hector was her substitute with the groomer and the experience was no less traumatic for him. But upon return, there he was, laying on my desk just to be close to me. No matter how much I have fussed at Tuggles for an "accident" she still follows me to the bedroom to sleep on the floor next to the bed. Pets are entertaining. Recently I was startled to hear an unfamiliar ringing sound. I determined what it was not - telephone, cell phone, or alarm. I had to laugh when I discovered where the sound originated. The second time I got up to investigate, Hector was sitting near a toddler activity table, looking innocent. That curious cat had been pushing one of the buttons on the toy! I laugh at Tuggles pretending to be a herding breed of dog and try to corral one of the cats. I have days when the only laughs I get are because of the pets. So, I conclude pets contribute to good mental health (when they aren't driving you crazy).
Yes, the love-hate relationship remains. But, I can't imagine my house pet-free either. Maybe I should hang a copy of the Serenity Prayer above the litter box.
There are three pets in my household, none of which I chose to have in a direct kind of way. The senior member is Hector Hootie, a cat of unknown pedigree but very similar to a Maine Coon cat. Don't laugh at his name - I didn't name him! I have no idea where the name "Hector" came from, but I do know that "Hootie" was from the rock group, Hootie and the Blowfish. Hector came by way of daughter #1. She just had to have a cat, so when a friend heard that she wanted one, he said, "I know where some kittens are!" So, there scampering around and in an abandoned car were kittens of different colors. Hector was the only kitten that allowed itself to be captured and it was his lucky day. Fast forward about six months and daughter #1 decided to move out into her own apartment. Yep, no kitties allowed. AND I never received cat support payments!
Pet 2 is Daisy the cat. Believe it or not, daughter #1 decided several years later that it was time for a kitten again. This time daughter #1 moved back home and brought Daisy. Somehow, Daisy was designated as an irritating kitty and banished to the dark reaches of the basement, outside of daughter's basement apartment. Eventually, feeling sorry for the lonely kitty, Daisy was invited into the main house. It was her lucky day. And no cat support payments for her either.
Pet #3 showed up at the back door of my mother's house on the day of my mother's death. I had just arrived back there from the hospital. The cute dog was being chased by other dogs. Of course I didn't want to be an accessory to murder, so I let the dog in the house. She never left, except to travel to my house. I named her Tuggles in honor of my mother, Tuggle being my maiden name.
Pets are expensive. Pets are time consuming. Pets are messy. Pets are annoying. I think about these characteristics as I pay the groomer, clean up a hair ball that's been thrown up on my oriental rug, brush white cat hair off my black slacks, pick up dog poop (again - on my oriental rug), clean out the litter box and sweep up litter, and try to soak up dog pee (sometimes on my oriental rug). Then there are the times I let the dog out the back door and she disappears and I'm in pajamas chasing her down in the neighborhood. OR Hector decides to sneak out as the dog is being let out at bedtime and I can't go to sleep until all my "children" are accounted for, so I'm out in the dark chanting, "Here kitty kitty! Come on Hector!" It's even worse when it's cold or raining. These are the times that I ask myself why I put up with this stuff.
My wise, philosophical self comes to the fore then to answer my question. Pets teach us so many lessons. Okay, they are expensive lessons. They are dependent on our compassion and care. Pets love us unconditionally. Even though Daisy was very upset that I tried to put her in a carrier to transport her to the groomer, she forgave me quickly and was on my bed nudging me with her head to indicate her desire to be petted in exchange for licking my hand. Since Daisy wouldn't co-operate, Hector was her substitute with the groomer and the experience was no less traumatic for him. But upon return, there he was, laying on my desk just to be close to me. No matter how much I have fussed at Tuggles for an "accident" she still follows me to the bedroom to sleep on the floor next to the bed. Pets are entertaining. Recently I was startled to hear an unfamiliar ringing sound. I determined what it was not - telephone, cell phone, or alarm. I had to laugh when I discovered where the sound originated. The second time I got up to investigate, Hector was sitting near a toddler activity table, looking innocent. That curious cat had been pushing one of the buttons on the toy! I laugh at Tuggles pretending to be a herding breed of dog and try to corral one of the cats. I have days when the only laughs I get are because of the pets. So, I conclude pets contribute to good mental health (when they aren't driving you crazy).
Yes, the love-hate relationship remains. But, I can't imagine my house pet-free either. Maybe I should hang a copy of the Serenity Prayer above the litter box.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
So, You Wanted to Blog?
I've always wanted to blog, well, as long as I've known that blogs exist. However, I found out that, in order to blog, you have to actually write about something! I knew that could be a problem. Then I realized I had to make lots of decisions - like what to title my blog, which layout to use, determine my purpose, what to write about. I'm smart enough to know that those issues are important, too important to rush into blogging. So, here I am several years later and it's obvious I didn't rush!
I hope you like the layout I chose. I hope you like the name of the blog. But, purpose? I just want to express myself, explore my sense of humor,hopefully inspire, maybe provoke discussion, but not necessarily all in the same blog. I hope reading my blog will be worth your time. Thank you for allowing me to share a little of who I am.
Aging. It's been on my mind lately. My birthday is approaching quickly, so I am thinking about what it means to get "older" and about our culture's perspective of the "older" person. Okay, I admit it. What do you think about ME as an "older" person? I look in the mirror and I see someone that looks, at least, twenty years younger than my chronological age. Then, I go to the grocery store on Senior Citizens discount day and I get the discount without having to ask for it. Obviously, the mirror lied. How can this be? I've concluded that the mirror reflects accurately the age I FEEL. Now, that's the ultimate magic mirror! So, if I like what I see in the mirror, I'm energized and others are drawn to my zest for life.
Another benefit of beoming an "older" person is feeling wise and superior in that wisdom. (See those wise statements in the preceding paragraph?) I probably have some room to grow in humility too. I just can't help it - that wisdom just creeps into conversations. Why can't I have "young" conversations, be frivolous, without injecting the wisdom of my years? I wouldn't have much to say. I don't keep up with fashion or new television shows, don't gossip, don't have an interesting job, so experience and wisdom is left. And then I don't sound like an "older" person, I sound like an "old" person, one who only has the past!
Yikes! Who knew aging would be so complicated? My earth suit is only temporary, so why be concerned how others in our youth obsessed culture view me? I'm looking forward to escaping the bonds of earth when this earth suit will dissolve and my eternal beauty will emerge! No more make-up, moisturizers, exfoliating creams, volumizing shampoo. Freedom!
Whew! Blogging is exhausting. So until something inspirational, funny, infuriating or a whim to write comes to me...............
I hope you like the layout I chose. I hope you like the name of the blog. But, purpose? I just want to express myself, explore my sense of humor,hopefully inspire, maybe provoke discussion, but not necessarily all in the same blog. I hope reading my blog will be worth your time. Thank you for allowing me to share a little of who I am.
Aging. It's been on my mind lately. My birthday is approaching quickly, so I am thinking about what it means to get "older" and about our culture's perspective of the "older" person. Okay, I admit it. What do you think about ME as an "older" person? I look in the mirror and I see someone that looks, at least, twenty years younger than my chronological age. Then, I go to the grocery store on Senior Citizens discount day and I get the discount without having to ask for it. Obviously, the mirror lied. How can this be? I've concluded that the mirror reflects accurately the age I FEEL. Now, that's the ultimate magic mirror! So, if I like what I see in the mirror, I'm energized and others are drawn to my zest for life.
Another benefit of beoming an "older" person is feeling wise and superior in that wisdom. (See those wise statements in the preceding paragraph?) I probably have some room to grow in humility too. I just can't help it - that wisdom just creeps into conversations. Why can't I have "young" conversations, be frivolous, without injecting the wisdom of my years? I wouldn't have much to say. I don't keep up with fashion or new television shows, don't gossip, don't have an interesting job, so experience and wisdom is left. And then I don't sound like an "older" person, I sound like an "old" person, one who only has the past!
Yikes! Who knew aging would be so complicated? My earth suit is only temporary, so why be concerned how others in our youth obsessed culture view me? I'm looking forward to escaping the bonds of earth when this earth suit will dissolve and my eternal beauty will emerge! No more make-up, moisturizers, exfoliating creams, volumizing shampoo. Freedom!
Whew! Blogging is exhausting. So until something inspirational, funny, infuriating or a whim to write comes to me...............
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