I'm sore.  I wish it was because I had a great work-out this morning.  That's exactly the kind of sore I would welcome...ok it's not...but it's better than this kind of sore. 

 

Instead, it was a trip to the dentist that has caused these aches and pains.  When your entire body is tensed up for over 30 minutes, the result can be painful.  My stomach, back, neck and hand muscles are screaming at me...that either indicates my intense hatred of anything grinding against my teeth, or that I'm very out of shape.  Yeah, I know...you're right...it's both. 

 

I had my teeth "shaped" today.  They're starting to chip a little on the bottom and top.  Apparently, I'm not just a stress case during the day, but in my sleep as well.  I'm a grinder, and my teeth are starting to show it.  Even when they clean my teeth, I have a major inner-freak-out-but-on-the-outside-act-like-everything's-cool-but-every-muscle-is-tensed-to-the-breaking-point episode.  Let alone when they bring the tooth grinder thing out.  So, the scraping, digging, cleaning left me tired...and then I headed into round 2. 

 

Water is spraying everywhere, the grinder is grinding at WAY too high of a frequency, and I'm blasting Lifehouse on my ipod to try and cover up the sound.  Dr. Drahota had to scream at me to get my attention because my eyes were tightly shut, my back was arched...even my toes were spread and stretching.  Once he even tapped my chin to try and get my attention.  When I opened my eyes, of course I try to act cool and look in the mirror and answer his question of "what do you think of this? I'll start on the other one now if you don't mind"  No, I don't mind...I'm just begging Jesus to come back this very second, but I don't mind.

 

Speaking of my chin...here's some stress added to the whole scenario.  I don't sleep, and so as usual I was up until about 3.  Since my kids are gone for the week, I was sound asleep when the phone rang at 9:45.  It was the dentist, calling to ask me why I was 15 minutes late for my appointment (it's a small town...everyone checks up on ya when you don't show up)  I flew out of bed, brushed and flossed quick, changed my clothes and left...no time to check any stray...items.

 

 

 

I think I just discovered the easiest job on the planet.  Chances are, this person makes a lot of money, too. Here's how it happened:  Bart the wonder husband went to the store for me a couple of days ago.  I asked him to pick up some cereal and other things.  He came home with a box of cereal called......Crispy Hexagons. 

 

The cereal is crispy.  The individual pieces of cereal are shaped like hexagons. I thought I'd clear up any confusion you might be having.  There was no colorful pirate, or brown vampire.  There were no puzzles, prizes, contests, or celebrity sports figures on the box.  Just a fairly generic font stating the name: Crispy Hexagons, and a poorly snapped picture of what the cereal looks like.  They probably just set the bowl on the desk in the office, pulled out the polaroid and snapped the picture, titled it, and sent it off to the printer.

 

I want that job..the job where you work at the knock-off company and get to name the products.  Like my friend SueC said...I'd be like the grocery store version of Adam.  I dub this:  Crispy Hexagons....I dub that: Chocolate Sugar Circles.....I dub this: Artificial Cheese Product....I dub that: Paper to Wipe Your Lower Area After....oh nevermind you get the picture.

 

Somebody, somewhere is making boatloads of money by stating the obvious.  In some respects, you gotta admire that.  We as Americans need to be romanced into buying anything.  We need clouds and cherubs on our toilet paper wrappers.  We need steroid-enhanced scrubbing bubbles to entice us to clean our bathtubs.  We need Tony The Tiger to tell us which cereal to buy.  

 

Maybe some middle aged guy who's spent half his life buying overpriced brand name cereal said ENOUGH!  We're putting cheap cereal in a box, and calling it what it is.  Maybe the guy had nightmares about Tony The Tiger when he was young...or was overcome in a dream by the three little elves Snap, Crackle, and Pop on a roadside.  Who knows, but the result has become a great source of humor in this house.

 

Time to make a Cheese product and Ground up animal parts sandwich, accompanied by Artificially Flavored Potato Wedges and an apple.

 

 

The movie What About Bob cracks me up.  Bill Murray cracks me up.  We quote that movie constantly around this house, especially since summer has arrived.  We've been eating a lot of corn on the cob, so every time we're sitting at the table, munching on corn, we will morph into the Marvins eating dinner on the back porch with Bob.  Somebody ALWAYS starts in....

 

"mmmm....chomp chomp....mmmmm.....Faye....mmmmm..chomp, slurp....MMMMMMMMM....MMMMMMMMM.....is this hand-shucked?"

 

And of course, we all start laughing and snorting in our corn.

 

I thought about Bob tonight, after my friend SueC left.  (see blog address to the left..she's a wonderful friend...and HILARIOUS)  I didn't think about Bob because Sue is like Bob, because if she were like Bob, she wouldn't have left...she would have stayed, and helped me put the dinner dishes away and the food in the fridge singing (to the tune of Singing In The Rain)......."I'm STANNNDing...in the KITchen...with a BOOOWLL full of chicken....and I'm putting it in Fay and Leo's..I mean Dr. Marvin's refrigerator...." and then she would have gone upstairs, put on my pj's, used my toothbrush, and slept in my daughter's room and laughed about Teret's syndrome.  But since she is NOT like Bob, she left, and I started thinking.  Bob loved the Marvins because he felt safe and accepted.  That's the way I felt today when I was writing with SueC, and last Tuesday night when I wrote with GinaB.

 

There is such beauty in being around people who are safe.  We can be ourselves, and know we won't be judged, or ridiculed, or gossiped about later.  Bob loved the Marvins because he felt safe and accepted by Faye, Siggy, and Anna.  As time went on, he began shedding his paralyzing fears and trying new things, like when he went sailing.  I'M SAILING....I SAIL....I'M SAILING...AHOY...DR. MARVIN...LOOK AT ME..I'M SAILING! (granted he was tied to the mast..but earlier in the show he couldn't even get on an elevator)

 

For a writer, that's a HUGE thing.  I have that safeness with my two local writer friends, SueC and GinaB.  When we get together, we know that our skill as a writer won't be questioned if we throw out weird hooks, or if we mess around with melodies, and our voice cracks and cuts out in the middle of trying to find a workable melody.  We know that if the other person has a furrowed brow when we use weird Shakespearean words that would never be uttered in conversation, that they're still going to value our opinions and listen to what we sayeth. 

 

I've watched the staff writers at WAJ have that comfort.  I remember sitting in the seminars feeling envious of that safety they had with each other.  When you are creating, it's such an emotionally sensitive thing.  How very cool is it when you have people to write with who honor your person...the emotional, creative, passionate person who only has the courage to make an appearance when things are safe.  When I've been to Nashville, SueS, Joel, Twila, Kevin, and Maurice have worked really hard to provide that kind of environment for me.  I've been amazed at how they respect me, even though I've only moved one inch from the Clueless starting gate. 

 

But the truth of it is.....time and history play a huge role in creating the right kind of environment for writing.  It takes a good relationship, and a pattern of showing mutual respect and trustworthiness.  There are times when the creative juices flow with a relative stranger...but my limited experience is starting to show me that it takes time and practice to build a safe environment for writing.  That knowledge has allowed me to give myself a break somewhat when I think about my past trips to Nashville.  It wasn't until this last trip that I really started feeling creative.  It's because I felt more comfortable with my co-writers.  I felt more safe.

 

Sue and I had a great day of writing.  She threw out an awesome hook, and the beginnings of a great melody, and we got down to business.  We've been writing together for almost 5 years now, and it's really been in the last year that we've seen real progress in our writing relationship.  We had a great time today, and I'm excited to see how this song finishes. 

 

Gina and I have known each other for 20 years, so when we started writing together 5 years ago...well..it was like breathing.   She's like a sister to me, and I would trust her with any idea..even those that come from a place of serious hurt or passion.  We just revived a song we wrote together several months ago ...and I cried when I listened to it again.  It came from a very deep place in my heart, and when I brought her the idea, she honored it and she honored me.  It was too raw when I showed it to her, and she was willing to shape it and hone it to be more appealing to a broad audience, and yet respect my feelings.  It's become one  of my favorite songs we've written.

 

Writing-wise this week, I was able to go sailing...AHOY...I SAIL....

 

 

Today is our 15th wedding anniversary.  15 years...wow.  That's over half my life.  I know...you're not supposed to get married when you're 10, but our parents gave Bart permission to marry a minor.  I was a very mature individual, and for the midwest...age 10 is the beginning stages of spinsterhood....oh wait..that's Butcher Holler, not the cornfields.

 

Ok, I wasn't 10.  I was 15.   *sniff*

 

Ok..I wasn't 15, I was 23, and amazed that I could be so blessed to be marrying the most wonderful man on the face of the earth.  Now, 15 years later...I feel even more blessed than I did on that Saturday morning in Lincoln.  I'm not sure how or why I was given such an amazing husband, but I sure am thankful.  I'm thankful he's been a constant source of unconditional love and encouragement.  I'm thankful he is smart, funny, caring, tender, hard working, humble, steady, and completely committed to following Christ.  He's an amazing friend, and he loves his daughters more than his own life.  They're lucky girls. 

 

But I'm the luckiest girl of all.

A great time was had by all in Chicago!  Thanks to Gina and the B fam, and my parents for taking care of the chillies while we were gone.  They had a blast bowling, playing with rabbits, swimming, going to the movies, and playing with friends.  We're all unpacked, cleaned up and ready for bed.  We're all going to sleep well tonight!

 

Friday night, we ate at a famous restaurant called Gibson's.  It was WONDERFUL.  Then, we caught a cab down to Millenium Park.  It's located right next to the Chicago Art Institute, and is a hub for activity on most nights.  There was a 192 million dollar ampitheater built a couple of years ago on 20 acres in the middle of downtown.  It's stunning, and we arrived just in time to catch the Grant Park Symphony play an hour set.  (do they call them sets in the symphony world?)  The weather was perfect, and the music was excellent.  The Joffray (sp?)  Ballet had performed the hour before and we had missed it.  The husbands in the group were REALLY disappointed about that.

 

About 30 minutes in, I glanced over at the husbands and caught BOTH of them nodding off!  HA!!!  I leaned over to Bart and said...."This is the Chick's version of the Cub's game."  The advantage the guys had over me though, was that the timpani (sp?) drums would startle them awake here and there, so they had it easier than I did.  They should start having timpani drums at ball games...maybe a crazed chicken could play them in the middle of each inning! 

 

After the symphony, we caught another cab out to a totally different part of downtown and had dessert at a trendy, hip place called Hot Chocolate.  On the way back to the hotel, we saw a sign for Karaoke.  I wish we would have had the guts to stop, but we were all talk, and no chalk.  Instead, we started talking about what song we WOULD sing if WE EVER would HAPPEN to do Karaoke.  Bart said he would sing Brick House.  Scott said he would sing In The Ghetto, by Elvis.  Then, he started singing that song in the cab, while Ruth and I did the 2 octaves above "In The Ghetto" descant.  We were laughing hysterically...even the cabbie was laughing.  He should have paid US for the excellent entertainment...*sniff*  It was a great way to end the night. 

 

Well, it's time to get back to life without Sak's Fifth Avenue, Skyscrapers, Symphonies, and Starbucks on every corner.  Back to a quiet life free of wading my way through a sea of Gucci sunglasses, man-made cleavage,  endless traffic, and panhandlers. 

 

Back to my wonderful, blessed life. 

Cubs lost.  The curse of the Billy Goat is still hanging on.  Bart told me yesterday what the curse of the Billy Goat was.....but I've already forgotten it! 

 

There were no funny mascots to divert my attention.  Ever since the San Diego Chicken whaled on a beloved children's icon who is on every parent's hit list.....Barney..... at a Kansas City game we went to, I've been thankful for funny mascots.  I was laughing so hard I was crying at that game, and it was then I knew  that I was not a baseball fan.  I spent the rest of the game waiting for the Chicken to make another appearance.   If Bart tried to explain some baseball facts to me, and the Chicken came out, I'd shush him and sit forward in my chair.   People like me are the reason for half time entertainment, mean-spirited chickens, and great food.  They have employed all those devices so even the most uninterested people will pay money to come and sit through a sporting event.  It works....San Diego Chicken...if you're reading this....I love you man!  

 

Even though we were without any kind of sideline entertainment, it was a wonderful afternoon.  The atmosphere at a ball park is SO cool.  Families with children, groups of friends, old couples, young people, fanatical fans wearing their team colors from head to toe,  and those just there to take in the experience (like myself) all come together to enjoy an afternoon at the ballpark.  Plus I got to spend a few hours talking to my friend Ruth, who thankfully is not a baseball fan either.  It was in the low 80's and we sat under the boxes, so we were in the shade.  It was perfect...perfect napping weather that is.

 

I started nodding off right after the 7th inning stretch.  We had been up since 3 am.  We had to be at the airport by 5:30, so it had been a long day.  Who knows how long I had been doing the nod-off-then-jerk-my-head-awake move before I noticed that all three of the others in my group were laughing at me.  It seems there was some kind of funny side-show going on, and I was it.

 

Last night, we finished the night with a wonderful dinner at an italian restaurant we love called Carmine's.  Dinner was a great time of talking and laughing and enjoying a wonderful meal.  We finished off with coffee, tirimisu and chocolate torte.  I was in heaven.

 

Today, Bart had his conference, so I slept in until 9, and then walked down to the local bakery for a cappucino and a cinnamon roll.  I've been reading and people watching, and doing a little bit of window shopping.  Bart will be back in a minute, and we're off to Michigan Avenue to do some major damage.  One of my first stops will be the American Girl store.  The girls are really good about not expecting gifts when we travel, which makes it all the more fun to get them gifts!

 

 

Two 40 year old oak trees and a spruce frame the view out our living room window.  Our street is quiet and pretty.  Sometimes, I sit at my piano and just take in the view.  Today, a very different picture fills this window.  Instead of having 2 neighbors looking back at me, there are, potentially, hundreds of people with a view into my tiny space on the 9th floor.  Trees, bushes and well manicured lawns have been replaced with high rises, businesses, and sidewalks filled with people in a hurry to get somewhere and do something important, so it seems.

 

Bart and I are spending the weekend in Chicago!  He has a work seminar tomorrow, and so we took a couple extra days, and a couple of our good friends and are making a little vacation out of it.  We're checked into our downtown hotel, and now getting ready to catch the subway to the Cubs game.  (ahem...the game starts in 2 hours, but we need to get there and take in the sites....apparently that's part of the experience, according to my baseball fan of a husband.  When he and his dad went to New York and caught a game, they were at the stadium at 3:30.  The game didn't start until 7:00!!!)  I guess I should be thankful that we will only have to "take in the sights" for an hour and a half or so.

 

We seem to make it to Chicago at least once a year.  Sometimes it's just a cheap flight on Southwest that gets us here, and sometimes it's a work trip.  Whatever the reason, I'm thankful.  It's a great city, and I'm looking forward to enjoying a busier, more sophisticated, energetic corner of the world for a few days.

 

Bart's beckoning me to get my baseball cap on.  He's standing by the door and using his best Harry Carey voice he's saying...Cubs win!  Cubs win!

 

It's time to go try and reverse the curse of the billy goat.  (no clue what that means....I'm just looking forward to a hotdog, a big pretzel, and hopefully a funny mascot.)

 

Tomorrow.....Michigan Avenue here I come!!!! KA CHING!!!!!

John Piper quotes C.S. Lewis in an AWESOME book I'm reading called:  God's Passion For His Glory.  I've always loved this quote:

 

 

 

I just erased an entire paragraph of my pathetic attempt to explain what Lewis meant.  There's no need.  That quote stands by itself.

It's a gorgeous Saturday morning here in the cornfields.  Yesterday we passed 100, but today it's a cool 70, and I'm sitting here in my favorite coffee shop feeling very blessed and strangely at peace.

 

It's time to get back at the writing.  I haven't written in weeks and weeks.  Other parts of my life have demanded everything I have to give.  This ride I've been on has been  intense,and scary, and incredible, and joyful, and filled with moments of great need....followed by waves of feeling unbelievably satisfied in God.  He's worked some really cool miracles in my patch of the world lately.  But in order to see His work, I had to be put in a place of hurting.  It astounds me, though, how pain can help you see the good things in life more clearly. I just feel a giant WOW welling up in me this morning.

 

I don't feel dry creatively.  I feel brimming with new insight.  I feel very emotional and tender towards God as well and I want to express all of it.   But I don't know if I know how to get it out.  Sometimes I fear that process....like I'm not going to give these ideas justice....like I'm going to make what seems to be so deep and soul moving into something trite and overdone.

 

Fear fear fear...fear when I'm dry creatively, fear when I'm feeling creative, fear when my creation is born and I wonder how others will receive it.  I just need to start writing and get over myself.

 

So that's what I'm going to do.  Giddyup.

When summer started 2 weeks ago, I wasn't ready.  Summer doesn't seem to care if you're ready though.  It doesn't wait for you to get your softball---golf--icecream bars every afternoon-----afternoons at the pool--kids saying they're bored when they've had more fun in one day than you had your entire life growing up---mountains of laundry from the pool and softball and golf and icecream-----face on.  It rolls in demanding to be acknowledged and for fun to be had. 

 

My 6 year old had her first ever t-ball game tonight.  It was kindergarten and first grade players, and the cutest thing ever.  They had only had two practices before their game, so the kids didn't know what they were doing.  One little boy kept trying to field every ball that was hit.  It didn't matter if it was hit to third or first or anywhere in between, he was chasing after the ball.  Then, he would pick the ball up, and chase the runners with it.  There wasn't much throwing (thank goodness because half of the kids weren't paying attention enough to catch anything airborne) but a lot of running after people with the ball held out at arms length in front of him.  Of course there were lots of parents "cheering" him on to throw the ball to first.  At one point another little boy was playing second base with Sarah's friend Caroline (at one point there were 3-4 second base players) and he kept kicking dirt on her shoes and dancing around while the game was going on.  Caroline didn't know what to make of him.  It all stopped when his parents "cheered" him on to pay attention to the game.

 

Sarah hit the ball off of the T when it was her turn to bat and started running (with the bat in hand).  It wasn't a very big hit, but enough to get her to first safely.  She ran to first, and kept on going.  It didn't matter that there were runners on second and third...she just kept on running until the coach could flag her down to return to first base. The next kid up to bat hit the ball off the T and ran to first, second, and then stopped half way between second and third because he saw one of his friends playing on the opposing team.  They stood and had a nice chat in the middle of the field while parents "cheered"  wildly from the stands to RUN!RUN!COLTON!RUN!

 

We had one meltdown when a boy took Sarah's batting helmet.  (We've had a scare of lice in the batting helmets so we bought our girls a helmet to use.)  The poor little boy was so little that the parks and rec helmet was turning around so he was practically looking through the ear hole when he swung.  I told his dad that he could use our helmet as long as he didn't have lice of course.  Well, the problem was that he batted right before Sarah, so when it was Sarah's turn to bat, she didn't have a helmet.  She was screaming hysterically "I DON'T WANT TO USE THE HELMETS WITH LICE IN THEM!  I WANT TO USE MY HELMET!  I DON'T WANT LICE I DON'T WANT LICE"  We had to run out to first base and take our helmet back from the little boy, once again relegating him to peeping through the ear hole as he ran, all so Sarah could have a lice-free night.   I wouldn't be surprised if the rest of the kids show up with their own helmets next week, after Sarah's public proclamation of the lice infestation.

 

Softball, friends, family, competition, ice cream...yep summer's here.  Even if I'm not ready for it, it was still a really fun night.   There's something pretty sweet about seeing your kids have fun, even if it does mean double the laundry.

Today was a first for me.  For the first time, I shopped at a Sam's Club.  My friend Keeli needed to go and buy snacks for 120 people for a week of Camp Invention, a science camp her husband runs.  We loaded up two industrial sized carts with boxes of popsicles (120 x 5days=600 popsicles!!!!), oreos, doritos, fruit rollups, licorice, on and on.  On our way to the snacks aisle, we passed a row of computers, (no Mac's), washers and dryers, furniture, gardening supplies, patio furniture, books, clothing, on and on.  I was stunned.  There was an entire aisle devoted to huge quantities of macaroni and cheese. Everyone was walking around with giant carts, loading up on ridiculous quantities of gatorade, kitchen towels, lollipops, you name it.

 

I've never been one to shop in big quantities.  I know it's economical.  It's smart, which is probably why I've never done it.  hee hee!  Actually, I'm just not one to like having lots of extra stuff around.  Where do you put it?  What if you get sick of something, like doritos, when you're only 18 bags into a 36 bag pack? Can you return the other 18?  I know buying ginormous amounts of antibacterial wipes (which I go through like buttah) is smart because you save money, but where would I store them?  I'd have to spend the "savings" of buying in bulk for more cabinet space...or a bigger house even.

 

I remember when I was 19 and dating Bart.  He took me up to meet his roommates, who were all graduated and working.   One of them, his best friend Scott, was like a 50 year old 23 year old.  He was very...how to put this...."careful" with his money.  (I mock him, but his "carefulness" has lead him to be set for life)  One of the first things Scott showed me was his stellar buy that day at Sam's club.  He opened his linen closet and showed me one hundred rolls of toilet paper.  He was so proud of the good deal he had gotten.  There I am, a sophomore in college, and at that moment all I really care about is the new Russ Taff album that's out and how to pass my Calc 107 class, and he's beaming about toilet paper.  I had a moment of wondering if that was what was waiting for me when I graduated...being excited about cheap toilet paper.

 

Well, today, I understood the rush of the "deal".  There's something intoxicating about bargains.  I saw this gorgeous industrial kitchen work island in one of the aisles.  It was a STEAL...a steel STEAL.    I started seriously contemplating where I could put that thing in my house.   Also, It's a sense that you're sticking it to "the man."  (whoever the man is)  It's a feeling that you're getting ahead in the world by getting your hamburger at half the cost...even though you have to buy an entire cow's worth in order to get it. 

 

I just kept shaking my head and laughing in amazement.  At one point, I saw a version of the mattress we had just bought at our local furniture store.  At Sam's Club it was a fraction of the price.  Yeah, that stuck in my craw for a minute.  I won't lose any sleep over it though.

 

Time for a bag of Dorito's....my daily snack for the next 36 days......

We bought a new bed.  It is wonderful.  It's king-sized, with a pillow top, and I got the best night's sleep I've had in years last night.  Bart even called from work to say he was amazed at how well he slept.  My daughter has to start her running approach all the way down the hallway in order to be able to jump up on the bed, it's so tall and fluffy.

 

When it arrived, I thought..ok...I can't sit in bed and watch tv and eat and drink anymore.  It's too nice.  It's like when you get a new car and swear to yourself that never again, will you conduct any nasal exploration.  Never again will you engage in the PRD cycle...Pick...Roll...Dump...(I've probably crossed the line here, haven't I?)  Well that resolution lasts...what...a day?  a week?  I made it 24 hours, and so now here I sit, watching one of my beloved shows, Backyard Farmer on PBS, drinking my soda, and surfing around on my ANCIENT, OUTDATED EVEN THOUGH ITS ONLY 3 MONTHS OLD PC...AHEM....WE PC USERS ARE PEOPLE TOO...SHEESH....NEXT THING YOU KNOW THERE WILL BE SEGREGATED SEATING AT STARBUCKS...MAC USERS AT THE NICE QUIET TABLES IN THE BACK....PC USERS AT THE NOISY TABLES BY THE COUNTER AND THE ONES IN THE DIRECT SUNLIGHT WHERE YOU CAN'T DRINK HOT BEVERAGES BECAUSE YOU'RE SWEATING FROM THE SUN....oh..I digress...I'm not jealous...I'm not bitter...I don't define myself by what kind of computer sits on my lap...where was I?

 

Oh yeah, the bed...anyway...we were at the pool all day, and I'm tired, and a little sunburnt (no, SueC, I didn't wear my swimsuit....I'm sporting a loverly farmer's tan) so this bed feels wonderful.  My kids are probably out playing in traffic, but I can't seem to get myself off this bed.   Maybe if I had a Mac, I would have more energy.  Maybe if I had a Mac, I could monitor my children on my computer from my bed while they play outside.  Macs seem to have magical powers that transform lives and cause unprecedented creativity. 

 

I think I found two scapegoats for all of the problems in my life.  From now on, when Bart comes home and wonders why the house is a mess and nothing's gotten done that day, I'll just say it's because I don't have a Mac, and that I can't seem to get myself out of this unbelievably comfortable bed.

 

Works for me.