Hair

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Hair adorns the top of our heads, most of us. And even if it doesn’t, it probably has played a pretty dominant role in our lives as one of those things we spend a lot of time on, but still take for granted.  We get it cut, curled, pulled, washed, and we put products on it.  We care about how our hats look on it, and have preferences as to whether it should hang in our eyes or not.  We have stories we tell about Rapunzel (“let down your hair!”), Samson and Delilah, and Absalom who had such ridiculously out of control hair that it got caught in a tree he rode under and literally was the death of him. We have people who support themselves entirely taking care of our hair for us.  

We make statements with our hair as, for instance, when our dreads hang out the back under our football helmets, or when our hair turns pink, purple, green or blue. We all refer to common sayings and know what we mean by “bad hair day” or “hair raising experience”, “get out of my hair”, “a hairy situation” or “turn it down just a hair”.

Our hair keeps us warm.

We cry when we get sick and our hair falls out.

Personally, hair has figured largely in my past.  In addition to not smiling in most of my grade school pictures, I can look at them and tell whether I was in my pin curl stage, my sleeping in rollers stage or my dry the hair over the furnace duct stage. I have longish, white/gray hair now and I can find a barrette, or an elastic hair band in nearly any purse or pocket of mine. I confess, almost any time I look in a mirror, it has something to do with my hair.

I lived with two daughters who have always had nice hair, although one of them was scarred emotionally by a perm I once gave her.  Okay, so maybe I gave a couple bad haircuts to the other one too.  And my husband has had the same barber for the last forty years – me.

I’m thinking about hair this week more than usual because we have had a three generational hair week up here in Wisconsin.  Not mentioning any names, but some of us just don’t have time during our normal lives to take care of hair. A vacation turns out to be a good time for some fixes. 

On one of the first days here, sitting around with my daughter and mother, I offered to take them both out for the procedure – if we could find someone trustworthy to handle our locks.  Mom told me about a relative in town at Salon Soleil who had done a good job for someone so I looked the person up.  I felt confident she was skilled when I found out she had no openings. My daughter and I went on her waiting list in case there was a cancellation, and thanks to the blizzard this week there were two of them.  (Do you wonder how some committed professionals make it 25 miles to their job in a snowstorm and count it as “just another day” at work? I do.) We caught up on family news in addition to having a pleasant time getting a head massage and being made lovelier.   

My mom had a regular stylist and today we spent a couple hours in her home salon getting her permed and styled. She had chosen a good name for her business, A New Creation.  I like the way all three of us look with our recent changes. It kind of does something for your confidence when you look taken care of and current. I think it was a good move and money well spent. And I’m just sayin’ it was a fun thing to do with my mom and my daughter. 

Serious Snow

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20131205_154355I hate to go on and on about weather events but this time spent in Wisconsin has been such a wonderful reminder of winter that it is worthy of remarks, lots of them.

First, I have to say how noticeable it is that it’s dark at 4:30 pm. And it’s still quite dark at 7:30 in the morning – the automatic yard lights are still on.

It snowed for two days. Travel advisories were issued. We decided not to have my daughter drive the three and a half hours to the airport on slippery, wet roads. We had to make other flight arrangements. There is a great deal of anxiety in trying to figure out what the weather is going to be like and how it will affect the plans you’ve made. It is much easier just to give up and enjoy being snowed in.

At one point during the second day it began to rain.  Ice formed on the roads and sidewalks that had been cleared. Tree branches that had been heavy with snow got even heavier with ice. Toward the end of the snowfall the temperature began to drop and the wind began to blow. Snow drifted over the icy surfaces, and more of it fell.  The snowplows were out as well as the salt trucks. After dinner, my brother plowed the roads and driveways in our subdivision. The children went out to shovel the walks. The snowmobile was brought out of storage and they all took turns packing trails for skiing on the neighborhood green-space (white-space?). It was dark and cold, but strangely exciting as well.20131204_22495320131204_225002

There was the strangest light in the sky – not from the moon, but from every light in town that was reflected back and forth between the cloud cover and the white landscape. The appearance was kind of “other worldly”.

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This morning it was about 8 degrees F. and the snow had stopped falling. However, the wind was still blowing it off the roofs and drifting it on the roads so it seemed as harsh as before.  Common sights around town – icicles hanging off the eaves, cars and trucks with white snow caps and  ice covered windows, slush and salt on the roads. And cold, cold, cold…  Away from town, all was white. Snow is whiter than you can imagine when it’s clean and fresh.

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Do you know how carefully you have to walk when outside in this kind of weather? Seriously, every step has to be tested because a fall can be more than just awkward. It can be dangerous. To go out, you have to consider what kind of boots to wear,and how many layers of coats/jackets to put on. You have to keep track of your gloves, a scarf and a hat or you will freeze.  And every time you go back in a building all these things have to be taken off and stored. Wet things have to dry. It is time consuming and tends to inhibit going outside. You watch a lot of TV, particularly the weather channel.

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All this amounts to a culture of sorts.  People who get used to this are proud of their ability to last through the winter, and they would probably admit that there is something about winter that they like. I like it too (but I only have to like it for two weeks. It lasts for… oh, six months? Yeah.)  I’m just sayin… glad to be here. Brrr…

Winter comes.

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments
the cold season
the cold season

Hayward, Wisconsin is a place where it snows. The flakes were flying as we drove into town last Thursday for Thanksgiving.  The white blanket covered the ground and the fallen logs where we walked through the woods the next day.  Every gust of wind through the branches of the pines sent snow raining down all around us. At first, the cold was frightening but as I stayed out in it and worked up a sweat, I got used to it.  Now, four days past Thanksgiving, it is snowing again and this time it’s a storm big enough to deserve a name. Cleon.

Our trip into town proved the roads were icy with wet slush.  The sky is one solid, gray cloud that descends down to meet the horizon, cutting the visibility to about a quarter mile. Variations on muted gray, black and white with a little brown thrown in are the only colors nature has today. Things would seem dull if it weren’t for the colored lights and Christmas decorations up and down the streets. Hayward is a small town, a very small town, but it is the only real town in quite a large area of forests and lakes. And it is large enough to have a Walmart, which was a very busy place today.

I grew up here, in the country outside of Hayward.  I left and came back after I was married.  My children were born while I lived here and although I’ve been away again for more than twenty years it is still very homelike to me. My parents and my brother and his family still live in a development on the edge of town, on land that once belonged to my grandfather. We visited Hayward last June when it was all shades of green, brilliant blue skies, fields full of flowers, flowing rivers, and more than it’s share of the world’s mosquitoes. Now it is different.  It is white, very quiet, dark a good deal of the time, and there are no mosquitoes at all.

It is really quite magical to be able to stay in one place and have it change all around you. You would think you had been transported. I’m just sayin’ I am glad to be here for this first big snow of the year.

white on the road
white on the road
white in the woods
white in the woods

Here we go again…

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???????????????Here we go again…

I am excited.  It is only hours before a season of travel begins, and instead of getting ready I’m sitting here writing about how I’m not ready.  Thoughts about traveling are fighting to get out of my head.

I am going to my first, original home to be with family and friends, celebrating Thanksgiving.  I love everyone I am going to be with. Even before that, I love talking to strangers in the airport and on the plane.  I love being free to watch what is going on around me and observe people.  There is such freedom in not having a job to do other than keeping bombs from being planted in my luggage. Almost every routine of my daily life is changed to something new.

Flight attendants bring me the beverage of my choice – this happens never at home.

I get to sit in/drive a nearly new car.

I can eat fast food without feeling guilty because it’s about the only choice.

And at my destination I have that unique position of half guest, half helper.  It allows me to work alongside others and see what is going on in their lives.  It means I can stay up late visiting if there’s an opportunity, or get up early and have that first cup of coffee with someone special.  It means I can probably take a nap if I’m tired, or take a couple hours off to write or read.  There’s time to think about living while I’m doing it.

And even while the excitement builds, there’s a conflict. I feel it every time.  I am a split personality when it comes to travel.  There is so much to like about being away, and yet I am as much a home body as anyone could be.  I love my home, the husband, the cats, the yard, the old car, the commitments, the friends, even the job (sort of) (don’t spread that around).  To be happy and involved in one place, you have to lose touch with where you’re not.  And even when I know I’m coming back, there is a bit of sadness in stepping away from the familiar.

Will the husband be able to find food in the refrigerator?

Will my strawberry plants die if we get a freeze?

Will my cat forgive me for being gone?

Will I come back to a mountainous pile of junk mail? Laundry?

Will I be the same person that I was?  Probably not.

I’m just sayin’, here we go again…

Grandma in her Garden

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My Mom loves to garden.  I call her Grandma sometimes because I have talked to my children about her for years and years. She is their grandma, my mom, Gwendolyn Boone Smith.  Gwendolyn who never had a middle name and didn’t need one because her first name was long enough for two. Grandma keeps saying […]

Unusually Long Silences

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sunny gift from a guest
Unusually long silences in which readers get bored and lose interest are a dreaded reality for me in my blogging life.  I think I speak for many people when I say that sometimes the things we generally like to be doing (writing) isn’t what we want to be doing most (entertaining out of town guests) or have to be doing (work).  But it is crucial that we avoid guilt over things not done if we are being true to our priorities.

What I’ve been doing:

– a pre Thanksgiving event for the husband and other friends and relatives that I won’t get to see on the actual Thanksgiving Day.  This took me days of prep, planning, cooking and cleaning. Twenty two of us had a great time and a good meal.

thanksgiving thoughts from guests
thanksgiving thoughts from guests

– reconnecting with a long time friend and her family, visiting from afar. We kayaked, walked the beach, swam in the ocean, braved the mall, and ate several meals together. Oh, and Mexican Train up to number 7.

dining out with Cheryl
dining out with Cheryl

– worked for my employer, who is having trouble with staffing right now.  I am a so called resigned, retired nurse who works about as much as I did before I resigned. Go figure.

– spent  much enjoyed time doing music for my church (for my God).  Volunteered a little more than usual since others were out.

-spent hours and dollars on my computer, resurrecting it from death (or near death). Now if I can just figure out where all the missing files are, we’ll be fine and functioning.

– put out my fundraising letter for medical supplies for the Cambodian orphans.  I don’t want to go empty handed. God will supply what is needed, but I have to ask.

– overseeing major house washing.  Who knew it could take a week to pressure wash a house? It looks great again, except in the places where the paint needs to be replaced – but we knew that would happen.  All the accessory trees got trimmed too.

In the big picture, I think I made good choices,

putting God first,

people second

and things last.

I have to say, being a consistent writer is not easy when you have another life of any kind …

Get Out!

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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.

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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.