Get Out!

Shirleyjdietz1 Comment

I’ve been out in the oneacrewoods, which is what I call my yard because… well, you know why.  It’s the time of year in Florida when outdoors is like a very, very big room with perfect air conditioning and perfect lighting and pretty much perfect everything else.  On days like this I just want to live out there.

I was out weeding the strawberry beds before the husband left for work this morning.  I got it all done. And in preparation for possible colder weather in December and January, I re-positioned my greenhouse supports to better fit my square foot garden boxes. I took down all the shade cloth since we now have the opposite problem of not enough sun.  I raked, hoed, got dirt under my fingernails. I smelled the arugula and the citronella. I watched the squirrels (population explosion there).  I tried to figure out where all the bees were coming from (still don’t know…) I counted how many different sounds I could hear – 10, counting the far away traffic.  It was a sensual workout.

As lovely as it can be inside our houses, I think we were meant to be outside a good deal of the time.  In practically every part of our world, life of some kind thrives outside where there’s sunlight and water and nutrients. Quite remarkable really, that everything we need is here. After a couple hours of fresh air and sunshine I feel like I’ve had an attitude adjustment as well – there’s something freeing about all that’s going on out there without my having to be in control of it, or even give it a thought.  I’m just sayin’, I wish everyone could be here this morning (although it would possibly get a little crowded).  I think I’ll quit writing and get out.

square foot garden beds
square foot garden beds
strawberry pineapple patch
strawberry pineapple patch
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salad patch
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flower frenzy
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texture and color

Where Did I Put that List?

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Somewhere I have a list of things I wanted to write about but since I don’t remember where it is, maybe I’ll write about forgetfulness.

You know, I really don’t think it’s early dementia or Alzheimer’s. I think I’m just too lazy to commit every little detail to memory. I put high value on being free to act upon inspiration as soon as it hits.  This means that whatever thought preceded the new idea gets … forgotten, I guess.  I don’t quite understand what happens to it. Most of the time I don’t care either.  If it’s truly important it will come around again. I remember lots of stuff, just not when I’d most like to remember it.

Names? Where did I put my keys? Where is that missing credit card? Why didn’t I remember to record the last six checks I wrote? Is that baby shower tomorrow or next week? Did I close the garage door?  Did I turn off my cell phone ringer?  Did I turn on my cell phone ringer? What was that password? Did I take those clothes out of the washer? (no, they dried in there and that’s why they smell so funny).

The really good thing is that I’m an equal opportunity forgetter.  I forget the bad things as easily as the good things. I can’t remember much childhood angst, any really. I don’t remember details about bad grades in school, losing boyfriends, my several car accidents.  When I’m asked about my most embarrassing moment (and don’t we all get asked about that occasionally?) I’ve memorized one, just one, and only for that purpose. There have been many but I can’t remember them. I think that’s a good thing.

So, do I have a remedy for my forgetfulness? Yes, indeed I do. I don’t tell anyone unless I get caught.

I can have a decent conversation with someone without saying their name. I can look it up after.

Most of the time, if I’m patient, the lost gets found. Like the uncashed check I found in my pants pocket after two months – it was still good.

I still go kind of crazy over the missing credit cards, but hey, if that didn’t happen my purse would never get cleaned.

Memory is not all it’s cracked up to be.  I might be losing my mind but if I keep my mouth shut, probably no one will know.  I’m just sayin’…

Heading East Again.

Shirleyjdietz3 Comments
Group photo op Prek Eng 5 family
Group photo op
Prek Eng 5 family

But to be precise, I don’t really know which way you would say Cambodia is from where I am. I could get there in almost any direction because it’s pretty much on the other side of the world. I think the plane flies north over the pole.

After hours and hours of seeing nothing because it’s dark, I usually look out on what I am guessing are the mountains of Siberia. I remember thinking how cold, rugged and barren that area looks from up in the sky (and probably from down on the ground too – I’ve heard things about Siberia).  We land in Seoul, stand in several lines, change planes and fly for another six hours to Phnom Penh.

Things really warm up there.  Suddenly I’m back in a climate much like the one I left in Florida and surrounded by excited children. The hugs and smiles just don’t stop and their helping hands take all our bags and they lead us to the transport vehicles. All 40 plus children and house parents come to get us and come again to see us off ten days later. Kindness, gentleness, patience and love, love, love… from them to us.

This December I will be taking my third trip to Cambodia.  Things change so fast over there.  This year instead of being scattered all over the city of Phnom Penh in rented housing, the children have five new homes in progress on a central campus. There was not even one building on the property last year.  The church and education center was the first to be built.  The jungle has been cleared away, gardens have been planted. Thanks to Facebook I see pictures of foundations being poured, tile being laid, landscaping taking form. And yes, they take lots of pictures of their food too.  I am eagerly anticipating this visit.

And of course, the children are growing up, The older ones are making plans for educating themselves in university and the trades.  Last year a men’s dorm for university students was started and was amazingly successful.  This year the women are also getting a dorm and some of the Asia Hope girls will be living there as they go to school. I will probably get a chance to talk with them several mornings before they head out and I’m looking forward to encouraging them and telling them how special they are.

They are truly Asia’s hope for the future. I am so blessed to have a window on the changes taking place there – and an opportunity to meet needs as they are expressed.  Last year donations from many friends helped provide needed prophylactic medications for all 15 orphan homes for two years, plus some equipment for medical examinations.  That was one FUN shopping trip! I am asking for donations again this year, if any readers are so inclined. I can guarantee that the funds are put to good use. God provides, but you are his vehicle.

Being there always inspires me, and I think it will inspire you as well. I’m just sayin’, stay in touch if you want to watch this year’s trip unfold in December.

Dear John,

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Dear John Deere,

I don’t know how it started, but I have an awful lot of your stuff.  I have pictures of your tractor.  I also have a small replica of your tractor that children play with when they visit me.  Actually, I know you have more than one tractor too – I have a book with pictures and stories about ALL your tractors from the first to the last.

I have one of your tablecloths, a miniature gas pump of yours, a toothpick holder with your logo, a set of dishes, some giant soup mugs, numerous metal boxes, a clock, an outdoor thermometer, a rug, a shirt and a couple hats – all in various shades of green and yellow, and with your name on them.  I honestly can’t remember everything in this collection.  It appears that there aren’t many things that you won’t put your name on.

John, you are my link to the past and all that was good about life on the farm.  I remember those days whenever I pour my morning coffee into the John Deere mug and toast the new day.  That’s why I’m sad to tell you that it’s over.

Today there was a crash and an exclamation of anguish from the kitchen where the husband was cleaning up his breakfast.  John, he dropped your mug and it shattered.  It’s gone.  I threw it in the trash.  Please don’t hate me.

Wishing it could have ended differently…  (but after all, it’s just “stuff” and I can find another one in about 30 seconds on the internet)

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A Bit Worried

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my not smiling great grandparents
my not smiling great grandparents

I’ve been looking at multi-generational family photos recently and there’s something about them that has me a bit worried.  It stands out so clearly that I couldn’t help but notice – the older generation is not smiling.  I am already aware that getting older has its down side but could it be that old age is even worse than I had imagined?

There could be other explanations, and I’m considering them all.  Perhaps, even though they appear to be looking at the camera and are surrounded by family members who are posing, they don’t know their picture is being taken? No one said “Say cheese”?  Or perhaps they think they look scary when they smile, or maybe those muscles are tired and just don’t function anymore? They are all smiled out?  Could it be that just being there for the photo requires so much of them that they don’t have energy left to pretend that it’s fun?

When I go back to the very, very old pictures I can totally understand the grim expressions.  After all, they had to stand outside, in a lot of dark, heavy clothing, probably for a very long time to get that picture.  Notice that no one has thousands of those pictures in their family albums. But we are in the digital age and have thousands of pics on our phones! We can delete them with a touch of the finger.  If there’s a somber, semi-glaring face in there it must mean something.

And that is what worries me.  Someday there might be a lot of pictures of old aunt/grandma/relative/friend Shirley out there and I would like to either be smiling or making a funny face in all of them.  I want to know that it’s possible, no matter how tired I am, how much I hurt or how old I feel, to hide it from the  “youngers”.  They’ll find out soon enough how much fun it is.  I’m actually practicing my smile variations, hoping that one of them will become so habitual that it will be there on my face anytime there is a camera around.  It’s taking conscious effort but I’m just sayin’, I think it’s worth doing.

Death and Taxes

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Two things that are said to be certain, and I add, equally unwelcome.  By taxes, I mean filing a tax return and then finding out that an enormous sum of money is owed.

I don’t even do the filing for our little family of two.  The husband does it with the help of a computer program.  It asks the questions and he fills in the blanks with our information as best he can.  Once in a while it does get confusing however, and whether it was human error or a computer glitch we can’t be sure.  A mistake was made and went unnoticed for a couple years and since it was a mistake in our favor, we wanted to correct it this year before filing. Back in April when it was due, we weren’t ready so the husband filed for an extension. The deadline was last Tuesday.

We all put off things we don’t like to do, so I am totally not mad at the husband. I actually thought he had done it because he did talk about it several times.  Monday before THE Tuesday, I came home from an evening meeting, ready to get to bed and he said the words that make my blood run cold every time I hear them.  “I’m going to prepare the tax return tonight. I need you to pull some files.”

We have two filing systems between us.  He keeps everything, in it’s original envelope, no matter how stuffed the file gets.  I throw everything away that I don’t think we need based on very little actual knowledge of what is needed.  Neither one of us can find anything.  Nevertheless, I always get asked where things are.  That’s when I pretend to riffle through the file cabinet for a minute and then run away when he’s not looking.  Really, I had to get to bed so I could go to work the next day.

I thought it would be all done by the time I got home the next day, D-day, but it was still going on.  There were questions, dates to be reckoned, receipts to be found, decisions to be made and folders and piles of relevant paper everywhere.  In the midst of it all, and at the height of the dread, I came to a realization that we could do better than this.  Maybe if I started now 2013 could be a different kind of year. I could have all the records ready, in one place.  Maybe we could be done in one night. How awesome would that be? (Very awesome.)

from the BRR
from the BRR

So I did start.  I went through the box of random receipts, the BRR, where three years worth of contents of purses and pockets were stored.  Did you know that they make those things with disappearing ink?  I have promised myself that I will not save another receipt without writing the category of the purchase, the price and the date on the top. I am on the learning curve and liking it.

The husband did finish the job – at 11:58 pm, because he didn’t want to wait until the last minute.  We owed money and it’s going to be a painful month.  I’m just sayin’… death and taxes.

The Salad Is the Meal

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At least that’s what it says on the new magnet we have on the front of the fridge. 20131003_130417

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been finding jars of unidentifiable, thick brown liquid in my refrigerator.  It’s the husband’s soup that he makes in our Vita Mix (the machine that pulverizes wooden blocks for demo).  I haven’t tasted any of it because I’m pretty sure the man has no idea of complementing flavors.  I’ve heard what he puts in there. He is on a roll.

Today we jumped in the truck and went to the Red Barn Flea Market to buy vegetables for the week.  He isn’t normally motivated to shop with me but there is a new angle to it now that makes him eager to choose what he’s going to eat.  He also helps prepare it for the fridge, and fixes a lot of his own meals. We spent $37 and filled two large bags with “stuff” to eat.  Ready for this? We bought beets, radishes and cilantro, yellow summer squash, acorn squash, spaghetti squash, avocados, celery, tomatoes, cabbage, green and red peppers, broccoli, cantaloupe and grapes.  The lady threw in two pears as a bonus.

We owe this new surge of enthusiasm to a doctor who lectured on public radio and inspired him (to put it mildly) to order a whole set of DVDs and educational material.  I have not wanted to ask what it cost – after all, it’s in the name of good health and I’m sure it will be worth it, whatever the price.

My husband is of a scientific bent and is quite impressed and interested in any research done on health topics.  The doctor who talks on the DVDs gives all kinds of evidence of the miraculous things found in vegetables.  He talks about body chemistry in great detail and his findings are that we have been wreaking havoc on our bodies with food that is bad for us.   One of the DVDs was of case studies of people whom the medical community had pretty much given up on, but who were helped back to great sounding health by eating a different way. There were lots of before and after pictures.  With good nutrition their bodies were able to reverse the course of diabetes, high blood pressure, heart  damage, fibromyalgia, ovarian cancer,  multiple sclerosis, numerous allergies, and psoriasis. And of course, they all lost weight as a side effect.

Truth is, he will get no argument from me about this.  I am totally in favor of anything that means less cooking for me, and this is a very simple way to eat.  He carved up the cantaloupe, I cooked the beets for a cold salad we had tonight, and with the nutritious beet tops I made a soup for tomorrow.  With all that other stuff we are set for the week.  I made a list so we won’t forget to eat anything.

We have been moving toward this type of diet for a while now but this will be the fine tuning that keeps his interest up.  He even wants to get other people interested in a group effort so he has someone with whom to share recipes and stories.  And there is also the online community which his paid subscription includes.

As for now, I am his group.  And I’m just sayin’ I can’t wait to feel better.

Hold On, I’m Thinking…

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Green to you?

I am, without a doubt, a work in progress.  You would think that after six decades of thinking on different things I would have settled, but it’s not that easy.  The challenges come on a daily basis. I can’t even think the grass is green without wondering what green is and whether it’s the same to everyone who sees it.

I read.

I listen.

I consider.

Sometimes I read to affirm what I already think. When I recognize my own thoughts in someone else’s words I feel a kinship. I am not alone.  Great comfort, that is.  And the more eloquently it is expressed the more I love it and “like” it, follow it and repost it.  It’s not aimed at anyone. It’s about me and who I am.

Other times I read what I do not think, in order to know someone else – someone to whom I attribute great value and respect, or maybe someone who has taken a curiously different path.  I am glad to be reading them.

The funny thing I find is that their path has some of the same landmarks that mine does.  The landmarks, the questions, the struggles are much alike but they are certainly viewed from a different angle.  Seeing things from a different angle is helpful and healthy for me.  The challenges I face make me who I am as I read, listen and consider.  I’m just sayin’ I think it has to be this way and I’m ok with it.

Why Does This Seem So Familiar…?

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The world is big and full of people with computers. The internet is a busy, complex place full of new concepts, new words, new ventures.  And  only by having moved my journal from pen and paper to keyboard and cyberspace, I have entered this foreign land. So why do some things seem so familiar?

Today I am going to respond to a welcome confrontation.  I was asked “what do you want?” It was an invitation to express my reasons for not joining a business of sorts that I don’t know much about.  Who jumps into something right away because it sounds too good to be true? Well, me, in the past.  I’m ex-Amway, and although I’m not ex-MaryKay yet, what it has taught me is that I’m not sales oriented.

So after innocently moving my blog to WordPress I have begun to get a few new followers.  I look at their profiles.  I watch their compelling videos.  I wonder why they are following and supposedly reading me?  Does it seem odd that young, energetic men would spend time reading about a 60-ish woman cleaning her house? My “you are being marketed” antennae are quivering…

Affiliate marketing is a new thing on my plate that I have to learn about before I chew, and swallow.  Maybe a good thing, who knows.  Some people are obviously making money through it and I do know that goods and services have to be advertised.  Maybe even I will be using affiliate marketing to earn part of my income in the near future.

But what I want, really, is

to produce content that makes people think about their every day life,

to describe those moments that are common to us all,

to suggest they have purpose and value.

And after I have done some of that and know I’m succeeding in what’s really important to me, maybe then I will also earn a following and an income. Maybe. It’s my way of putting the horse first, then the cart.  I’m just sayin’ I want to do it right.