Changing My Mind

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

Changing My Mind

My mind needs to change.

I have been of the mind that serious health problems belong to other people but not to me. I have always worked activity into my life effortlessly – I love to move. I have grandparents who lived into their 90’s and parents who are still living independently. I have weighed the same, within a few pounds more or less, all my grown up life. I don’t worry about what I eat, am seldom ill, am probably a type A multi-tasker, go years between doctors appointments. To all appearances I am a healthy person.

My human nature doesn’t spend a lot of time focusing on the diabetes, Parkinson’s disease and cancer in my family history.

Last week I decided to fill out a health survey. One of the questions was to compare blood triglyceride values from past years to the present. I didn’t like what I saw. I went on to look at cholesterol levels, HDL, and LDL. Again there was an alarming trend. I have also noticed a rise in my blood pressure from my usual quite low reading to a higher “normal”. I don’t know how much of this, if any, is normal for me as I age. I’d like to think these changes could go away.

I think I’ll start by admitting that the better eating habits we’ve been adopting aren’t just for the husband, they’re for me too. No more hiding stuff to eat after he’s gone (did I say that, really?) No more reminding him not to eat what I’m eating. And now I’ll not just be walking the husband, I’ll be walking the self for exercise.

The thing I’m really worried about is butter. I’m a little worried about Half and Half in my coffee but I’ve already decided that cutting down a bit on the caffeine would be better for me so that tablespoon of cream is not too bad. But butter, hmm… I love butter.

I read that overuse of NSAIDs can affect blood pressure and that’s another thing I’ve done in the last few years. Ibuprofen has been my friend and how I miss it when I lay off for a few days! But I’ve already decided to get used to hurting a little bit more and maybe taking things a little easy to avoid some of those hurts.

My goal is to see those numbers in my lipid panel improve.  And I’m pretty sure it starts in my head, with a change of mind.  If anyone out there has done something that really worked well, please share it with me.

Being Home, Being Restored

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

I love to travel. I love to be home.  Even though there is a lot here to be responsible for, and when I’m gone nature does it’s thing pretty much unchecked (the husband did mow the lawn) it is still a place that restores me. It begs me to take part, to pull a weed, pick up a few fallen branches, smell the mint and the rosemary, touch a mossy rock, marvel at a single strand of spider silk floating from somewhere to who knows where, hold my ears when the cicadas get all fired up. At some point there will come colder weather and it will change, but for now it is still the hot, humid, green glory of summer. Nature is more than amazing, it is God’s gift showing his thoughfulness, his love of beauty and drama, his attention to detail, his desire to nurture and uplift, his power to take down and start anew

If you need a spot of beauty in your day, come take a morning walk with me through the Oneacrewoods.

one of many paths
one of many paths

shapes, colors, texture, variety for our eyes to see
shapes, colors, texture, variety for our eyes to see

wpid-20140912_104506.jpgwpid-20140912_104543.jpgwpid-20140912_105145.jpgwpid-20140912_105216.jpgwpid-20140912_105412.jpgwpid-20140912_104738.jpgwpid-20140912_104702.jpgwpid-20140912_105231.jpgwpid-20140912_105513.jpgwpid-20140912_103922.jpgwpid-20140912_104111.jpgwpid-20140912_103947.jpg

Nature’s Twists and Turns (a freak storm)

Shirleyjdietz7 Comments

The last two times I have visited my hometown of Hayward have been connected with storms of note. Last fall I was there for the first blizzard of the year. This week I happened in on a freak storm that colored most of this visit.

The morning started like any other in northern Wisconsin in the late stages of summer, overcast and grey. Then it changed to something unusual. Everyone who witnessed it starts their story with “and then it got dark”, “it was as black as night”, “it got as dark as this black shirt I’m wearing”.

From her living room window my mom can see the top of the flagpole at the next door furniture store. The flag was flapping in a west wind. The rain began and the sound of it soon grew louder as hail began hitting the windows and siding of the house. There was a fury in this storm that sent those who had basements down for shelter. After about an hour, when the wind had subsided and the sky was lighter many people came out to look at the damage. There were piles of ice here and there. The fence around the development had been shot through with holes where it was still standing and completely twisted and blown down everywhere else.

this fence will not go up again
this fence will not go up again
holes from the wind driven hail
holes from the wind driven hail

As they stood in the street talking, my brother noticed a dark bank of clouds rapidly approaching from a different direction. It was as if the storm turned around and came back for a second round. More rain pelted the area and winds continued from what seemed like all points of the compass. There have often been tornado like events in this area without any sightings of funnel clouds or advance warning of any kind. This seemed to be one of those times. The area affected had no clear boundaries, the destruction had no apparent path.

A day later, we drove around to check on nearby properties that my dad owns. I saw firsthand what hail can do. Cornfields with stalks still standing but no leaves on them. Lawns looking like they had been mowed. A green carpet of chopped leaves on roads, roofs, and the forest floor. Trees looking like fall had already stripped them. In addition, many trees were down, sometimes in clumps having come down together, but often randomly, here and there. Trees that had fallen on the road had by this time been cut allowing cars to pass, but clean up was going slowly.

What's left of the corn
What’s left of the corn
Trees nearly bared by hail
Trees nearly bared by hail
Chopped leaf salad covers many roads
Chopped leaf salad covers many roads
and roof tops
and roof tops
Many roads obstructed with fallen trees and utility poles.
Many roads obstructed with fallen trees and utility poles.

Gardens and flower pots that had been still in full bloom and production were decimated – an early demise. I worked at cleaning up my mom’s patio where she had several planters, one full of herbs and flowers. The plants had been chopped and spread about and my sweeping stirred up the aroma of basil and parsley. The garden that had received compliments the week before was empty of everything except a few cabbages. I pulled up the bare corn stalks and cucumber vines. The small creeks that flow through my brother’s property were overflowing and flooding the drive. The downed trees numbered 40 and as already mentioned, the fence was history. In the nearby town there was much flooding and standing water. One other noticeable post storm effect – the birds were gone.

The garden I helped plant last May. I got to help tear it down after the storm.
The garden I helped plant last May. I got to help tear it down after the storm.
A lot of loveliness shredded and beaten down...
A lot of loveliness shredded and beaten down…

People are helping each other clean up. Those without electricity are borrowing generators. Things are slowly getting back to normal. Much has been lost but the landscape will recover. We are all reminded that nature is still a powerful, untamed force.

After the hailstorm, Those are not bullet holes.
After the hailstorm, Those are not bullet holes.

Random Thoughts at 34,000 Feet (Up)

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

This is going to be a long flight and I’m bored already. Oh how I wish I had not forgotten the crochet hook. My plan for four hours of waiting was to crochet more of the bookmarks for my Cambodian kids. I have a big ball of thread and no implement.  Since I wasn’t going to read my book, it is in the suitcase in the bin over my head. I’m not getting up to dig it out – too much trouble.

No needlework, no book, that leaves eating and sleeping.  I know better than to think there will be much to eat on this domestic flight.  No one eats any more on domestic flights.  Well, I was wrong, here come the peanuts, all 21 of them (I counted). That shaved a minute and a half off the flight time. I know better than to think I’m going to fall asleep with the baby being loud behind me, and the person coughing all the time somewhere back there.  I must not breathe their air.   

It’s hard to sit straight in these seats for very long. I twist and look out the window until my neck hurts. All the scenery is pretty far away. Oh, but there is a big river, If I had to guess, I’d say Mississippi.  Maybe we’re getting close to Minnesota. 

Trying to make myself sit straight again. Suddenly aware of how many times and places I do sit crooked. Like in my car, always leaning to the right, away from the door. I think my bones and muscles have adapted to poor posture. Need to pay more attention to that.  They’ve done something to make these seats harder.  It’s punishment for going economy class.  For that we all get punished, and someone has already done the puzzle in the airplane magazine.  They are trying to make me go crazy. 

Clouds look like popcorn. Mmmm…. popcorn. Butter. I’m thirsty.

More male flight attendants than female on this flight, kind of interesting. And the guys are doing all the refreshment service in the cabin. The lady must have gotten the first class cabin. Wonder if I’ll ever ride first class?  In my dreams…  What have they done to make guys want to be flight attendants?  Maybe it’s because they let them be comedians and make you tube videos.  Guys love that.

It is so noisy in here. There were a bunch of announcements and I hope they weren’t important because the engines drowned out the words. I didn’t catch a one of them.  I want some noise cancelling headphones.

I can see the top six inches of head of nearly everyone in the plane, from the back. Head tops are curly, straight, bald, that one needs a color touch up, grey, white, baseball cap. I can tell which women have gotten professional cuts – they have actual styles.  I try to guess how old everyone is based on the back of their head.  

Woman across the aisle has an outfit that looks severely odd. I’m trying not to stare. Lime green ankle length dress with a straight skirt and what looks like a three foot long hood hanging down the back. Looks high fashion, matches her jewelry and haircut. She’s spent some money somewhere but I wonder if she’s comfortable.  That shiny white box is her purse?!  She is so “Project Runway”.  Thankful for my comfortable clothes.

Chocolate. Nice lady next to me gave me a Hershey kiss. She’s going to her grandson’s wedding. She asked me where I was going. We are aware of the opposite prevailing emotions behind a wedding and a memorial service, but acknowledge that we are both going to be seeing a lot of family.  She says that is going to be good.  So do I. 

What on earth am I going to do with my mind for the next two hours? Aaarrraaghh! (silently) Look through my purse for the tenth time for that stupid crochet hook. 

Wonder if the husband made it out of Tampa and back home safely.  Worry about him.  Worry about him driving my car.  Hope he doesn’t crash the car. 

Thinking about my car some more. Can hardly believe that we got 5 people and four sets of luggage in LC (little car). It’s a good thing the ride to the airport was only 50 minutes. I guess I’m getting more used to, and more appreciative of that car. It definitely has some good technology and gets good gas mileage. I’m getting used to putting my “stuff” in the back seat, getting used to the awkward drink holder that I can never get my cup out of, getting used to taking the husband’s phone out of the cubby he always tries to put it in so that I can move the gear shift, getting used to the way I have to climb up and out of my seat, getting used to waiting five minutes while the husband gets out of his seat.  

What time is it? Are we there yet? Oh gosh, 45 more minutes….

I can tell we are in the midwest. The land is all divided up into regular sized squares, none of those irregular lines around the geography of the south. Every once in a while, where the roads intersect, there is a conglomerate of buildings, a town. There’s that big river again, with a barge. Has to be the Mississippi. Every inch of land is some kind of field – so many different shades of green and brown and once in a while a yellow one. The cloud shadows are so obvious from up here.  The early settlers would turn over in their graves if they could see this land being so covered with farms and houses.  And they would never believe that I would be seeing it from the sky. I don’t believe I’m seeing it from the sky.  Hope the plane doesn’t crash.

Can hardly wait to get a crochet hook and make up for all this wasted time. Must go to Walmart as soon as I get to Hayward. Wonder if I’ll ever live in Hayward again. That would be kind of full circle, no it’s more like a double circle. I started there and left, came back to start our family and left again, and to return would be the second homecoming. Two circles. I never would have dreamed there would be a Walmart in Grandma’s back yard – never in a million years. Wish she could see it.  Wish the early settlers could see a Walmart.  They wouldn’t believe it. 

Engine speed is changing now and I can feel us moving to a lower altitude. Such a difference in noise level. We must be getting close to Minneapolis and I am so glad. My neck is really stiff now. Have to move and stretch soon or I’m going to self destruct. So glad this isn’t a 16 hour flight to South Korea. Hope the plane doesn’t crash. 

Ooops. Forgot my sunglasses. Oh well, Wisconsin in the fall – the sun might not shine the whole time I’m there. The lady in the lime green outfit just stood up. The dress has ruching up the sides and all kinds of chiffon draping and fluttery things in the front. Never seen anything like it. Can’t believe she wanted to wear that on the plane. What was she thinking? We are definitely pointing down now.  Hope the plane doesn’t crash. 

No Question Marks Allowed

Shirleyjdietz6 Comments

Was just looking over my last few post titles and seeing a run of question marks that I didn’t realize was happening.  There are going to be none in this post.  This is going to be difficult since there are no subjects that I don’t have questions about.  For such a decisive person, I am perfectly comfortable with many uncertainties. In addition I am very skeptical of people who think they’ve got it all figured out, not only for themselves but for everyone else too.  That is not to say that there aren’t things that I have proven to myself to be true and certain.  There are some. 

Today I went to visit Jack.  He is one of my “older than me” friends who has had several months of acute illness followed by surgery, followed by infections, setbacks, weight loss, more setbacks, and endless rehab.  I don’t know how he remains as positive as he does.  

A home assessment visit was supposed to take place today and I was invited along since I may be helping him when he finally gets released.  It was cancelled.  He has a fever and didn’t feel well enough. Today I could feel the gloom and he had very little to say.  I think he is living in the kind of decline that most of us fear is going to happen to us someday, if we live long enough without a quick accident of some kind.  And for Jack it is even more of a dilemma since for the last few years he has been watching his wife Carol, go through an even slower, more agonizing decline with Alzheimers.  He is concerned for her and for himself. They are in the same rehab hospital so he at least can see her frequently.  

At home today, while I was thinking about Jack’s situation, the TV was non-stop talking about the latest journalist beheading.  It was another instance of imminent death which I’m sure the victim saw coming.  I wonder what it was like to anticipate that – and then immediately I don’t want to think about it anymore, don’t want to visualize it or feel the details.  It seems like the world is unusually full of death, be it quick or slow.  Maybe it has always been this way to those who were aware of the suffering, but it is pretty hard not to be aware of it in this present age.

All troubling thoughts about death and suffering eventually connect me to what I believe about myself and about God.  To all people I would not be hesitant to say I am certain we all will die. To some people I would say I am certain God exists, knows and loves us and wants to bring us through this life to a better one in the future.. I am certain he can be known and loved by us once we really understand him.  But to others I would not say this because of the questions they need answered, and which I cannot answer.  I think I understand these people because of all my own uncertainties.

Here’s the good thing.  As I wrestle with my thoughts on death, meaning of life, what I’m certain of and what I’m not, I feel no condemnation from God for having questions.  Unlike this post where no questions are allowed, they seem to be allowed and welcomed, certainly in the past but now as well.  I think it’s very possible that God uses questions, uses uncertainty, and is able to demonstrate his answers better because of them.  

I’m not going to anticipate decline in my old age and I’m going to encourage Jack not to be afraid.  I’m not going to fear terrorism and imagine all kinds of atrocities happening to me (well, maybe a little, well yes, I’m afraid of some of it).  What I do feel is a great curiosity and a hopeful anticipation of having my questions answered,  And it will be good when that happens. Of that, I am certain. 

 

Could This Be You?

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

wpid-20140831_174115.jpgDear WritingSelf,

Do not get discouraged when you can’t think of anything you feel like writing. Feelings are a sneaky enemy of getting things done. They make you think you have nothing to say that anyone wants to hear, nothing to write that anyone wants to read, and this is not true. Your feelings tell you all kinds of things that aren’t true but we won’t go into that right now.

You know your mother always wants to read what you write and haven’t you been surprised at comments from others as well? If only one person gets something of value from your letters and posts, isn’t that significant? Even if it were just Mom, she matters! People matter! I know you try to tell yourself you are just writing for your own satisfaction – it doesn’t matter if anyone else ever reads you – but that’s only partly true. We’ve been over this before. People read because 1) they’ve been through the same things and like to know someone else has as well 2) they haven’t been through the same things and are curious and like new ideas. You care about people and want to contribute to that process so you write. You write for people. You write for yourself. Both are true.

And didn’t you start writing, even with the first letter when you were young, because you had a unique way of looking at ordinary things? Didn’t you want everyone to know that their way of seeing the world was also unique and possibly inspiring. There really is nothing new under the sun but there might be a new way of thinking about that experience, that act, that situation. Your way of thinking might expand someone else’s world a little even if you’re not on some “best seller” list.

Pleeeease, don’t think about all the other amazing (more amazing than you) writers you’ve found online and let that discourage you. The majority of people on this planet never write anything. The fact that you want to write makes you part of a small number of people willing to write the history of all people as they write about their own lives.

You’re having a dry spell, so what?. Are you going to pretend that you’ve never heard another writer mention something like that before? It will pass. Go make a list, write a letter to a friend, jot down a silly poem, describe what you see out the window or what you had for lunch. In five or ten years, that might be a precious reminder of this time in your life.

And last but not least, God put it in your heart to be a writing person for a reason. Keep writing and find out what it is.

The First Alphabet Challenge?

Shirleyjdietz2 Comments

Click Picture to CLOSE

One of my summer projects has been to read the book of Psalms as if it were a blog, which is why one of my pages is called David’s blog.  Looking at it in this different way has made me notice some things I hadn’t thought about before.  Last week, reading Psalm 119 I was reminded of how it is divided into 21 parts, each part starting with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet – aleph to tav.  It was David’s A to Z Challenge!  This, of course, means a whole lot more to me this year after doing my own A to Z Challenge for the first time.  Writers are writers, and apparently it is nothing new to stimulate ideas and creativity with challenges.

I’ve also noticed how many different writers are collected in the Psalms.  Lots of them are labeled “of David” but others have interesting introductions like “a maskil of Ethan the Ezrahite” and “for the director of music. According to gittith. Of the sons of Korah.”  One of my favorite writers was Asaph.  I wish there had been more written about who he was and what he did to inspire some of his writings. Some of the introductions sound like things I read today, but in much nicer language.  For instance this one “a prayer of an afflicted man, when he is faint and pours out his lament before the Lord” (Psalm 102). I’ve been in that place more than a few times and tried to express it in my writing.  I have a bond with that guy.  

 

Beep, beep, boop?

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

What?  Who did this? To those of you reading who are not also bloggers, I will explain.  One of the latest updates to WordPress, my blog host, includes a cute little “beep, beep, boop” message wiggling around in the center of a blank screen for a few seconds after certain commands are instituted.  It’s a thing to look at while you’re waiting.  Evidently someone thought that us bloggers would lose interest and wander off if we didn’t have something new to look at for three seconds while our post is being published.  I’d like to meet the originator of this idea and try to figure them out. I’m always amazed at the things people will think to do.  Actually, sometimes I’m also amazed at the things people don’t think to do – the old rule, never say never,  applies equally to never say always. Both good things to remember.

This last week, every time I sat down at the computer I lost interest and wandered off.  One day I didn’t even turn the thing on.  But that’s ok.  A week of inactivity online doesn’t bother me much and gives me the opportunity to write about what I have been into while I haven’t been writing.

– Equate extra strength Headache Relief,  for the headache that doesn’t seem to want to quit.  Although I’m probably not doing my stomach any favors, I’m grateful for the four or five hours of relief and super wakefulness that I get from swallowing a couple pills.

Hello headache, my old friend...
Hello headache, my old friend…

– Intraocular injections (shot in the eyeball), for the eye problem that was dramatically improved, in the doctor’s own words.  I’m grateful that it’s working and that I don’t have to get another one for five weeks, although I am getting used to everything about them (except the cost…)

the back of my eye
the back of my eye

– Childcare, for several of my yòoung friends who I realize I’ve been missing.  How come you guys can grow up in what seems like no time at all? Gracie, Lydia, Josh, Zeke, Shiloh – grateful for time spent with you that makes me feel younger even while I marvel at you getting older.  I’m troubled by the fact that I’ve never played X-box.  Is that weird?

Childcare for her, adult care for me...
Childcare for her, adult care for me…

– Old letters and old files, for the urge to purge and to organize. Lots of stuff has been burned or shredded, but lots else has been rediscovered and readied for the next project, memoir writing.  I’ve always been alarmed by my lack of memory for details of the past.  Not only did I forget all those details, but I forgot that I’d written them down in letters to others.  This morning, reading letters written to my mother ten years ago, all I could think was “Really, I did that?” and “Did some other person’s life sneak into my letters?”  Grateful for the written record of the past.

I'm more prolific than I remembered.
I’m more prolific than I remembered.

– Appliance shopping, because the washer and dryer that have wanted to leave my house for years, finally broke free.  Grateful that within hours of starting to shop for replacements I came across a used set that is probableyten years younger.  After only one session with the furniture dolly, the truck, the hoses, wrenches and plumbing tape, they are installed in my laundry room and functioning almost correctly.  The printed message under the temp dial that says “all rinses are cold only” really means they are scalding hot only.  I think I know how we can fix that.

the Laundry twins, Hi and Dri
the Laundry twins, Hi and Dri

– Air travel websites, for the supposed improvement of doing it yourself.  Instead of calling a knowledgeable person and telling them when and where I want to travel I can now spend hours online hunting for the best connection at the best price.  And American Express Delta Frequent Flyer card, how dare you revoke the companion ticket feature without telling me.  Planning my revenge…

Did. Not. Happen.
Did. Not. Happen.

– the garden that was, the heat that is, that yard that will be.  Grateful for the healing work that takes place in me when I’m outdoors.  Grateful for green things, if they’re plants – not, if they’re worms.

Good green
Good green
Bad green
Bad green

 

– Face time, with friends and family who care.  I am realizing that the purpose and value of life is all in the relationships I find and nurture.  Realizing also that God is that friend and that family member who makes it all possible.  Having less work away from home has given me more time to nurture the relationship with him and I am so grateful for that.  Gives me some precious times of discovery, comfort, peace and excitement. Arlette and I took a lovely walk yesterday and talked of all these things.

Nature walk with my friends Arlette and God.
Nature walk with my friends Arlette and God.

 

My friend Arlette (and maybe God too, on her left)
My friend Arlette (and maybe God too, on her left)

She Loved

Shirleyjdietz6 Comments

I’ve had a bent toward independence most of my life and kind of wrestled with the question of whether I had ever had a mentor. I had my mom – she was always my first “go to” person, but being mom was her job, a position all its own.  There were a lot of other people I knew and I spent a lot of time thinking about their experiences. I did that in order to avoid their pitfalls. It seemed like a good idea not to learn firsthand what I could learn vicariously. But a mentor?

So I was a bit surprised when I did think of someone.  I thought of Elaine and immediately knew why she came to mind.

It wasn’t because she had any kind of corrective role in my life.  I don’t think she ever pointed out specifics about my child rearing or my work habits.  She didn’t tell me to keep house better or spend more time with the kids.  What she did do was make time for evenings playing cards with the husbands, and invite us to watch fireworks over the golf course from her nearby yard.  She had tea parties with my young girls and met me for breakfast after my night shifts at the hospital.  We went to a crazy restaurant where they had beaver on the menu and laughed while she tried it (she tried it).  She loved people and was always telling me about the interesting ones she met.  She wanted to be better at helping them and studied to be part of the Stephen ministry at her church. And the thing that fed my soul the most, she always acted like she enjoyed our times together.

Part of the attraction for me was the difference in our ages and stages of life.  Elaine was already married to my cousin and living in her first home when I was a young teen. She hosted me and several of my same age cousins at a family wedding, putting up with our late night antics and endless harmonizing to “Moon River”.  She was beautiful, but not arrogant.  Years later when I was married, working, mothering and struggling to keep it all together, she was still beautiful and gracious in a way that  time and experience had only magnified. She was honest about the parts of life that weren’t perfect, but didn’t dwell on them.  She gave me the message that those imperfections didn’t have to define one’s life, that they offered opportunities for growth and satisfaction.

We moved away.  For a couple of years I only saw Elaine when we came back to the hometown on vacation.  I worried when she was diagnosed with leukemia, but she went through chemo, bought herself a wig and carried on as she always had.  It was a shock when her disease took a turn for the worse.  Within days she was gone.  I did not get to say goodbye.

I did not fully realize how much I loved her until she was gone. Knowing her was a singular experience.  I can’t think of anyone else who gave of herself and spent time with me in quite the same way, noticing the highs and lows of my life and responding with encouragement and love. And that, simply, was it. She loved.

Community

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

That is a word to wrestle with (or, with which to wrestle, just so 6th grade English teacher doesn’t fight to get out of her coffin…).  Monday nights my email inbox fills with weekly digests of all the bloggers I have followed.  I recognize most of the names and think of something I’ve read from them that really intrigued me and gave me a reason to push the follow button.  I try to always have a reason. 

Yesterday, which was a Tuesday, I settled down to read and interact.  I know this is essential to being part of the community and I want to do it.  I got as far as the first site and ended up reading several long, thoughtful posts.  And then it was time to quit reading and interact with some housework and a doctor’s appointment.

This happens so much of the time.

One blog out of so many.

Anybody else have this problem?

I despair of keeping up after having started a reading relationship.  And from what I understand, it is reaching out to new writers and encouraging them that really builds community, following more and more blogs, more and more to read, comment on, keep up with.  The problem is not that I am a slow reader.  The problem seems to be that I am really interested in what I’m learning about someone.  And I do seem to need a lot of time to think about what I’m reading.

This community of bloggers is a big, fascinating marketplace.  I’m not upset (eh, maybe a little) because I’ve already accepted that I have limitations.  I can’t be best friends with the whole world, but I can get better acquainted with some of it.  So, today Lord help me decide where to read, where to comment, what to write.  I will rest in that, for today.