the art of heart

Believe in Your Heart

2011-09-17T17:47:00.051-05:00

The Good News. The Gospel: Romans 10:9 (NIV). See also 1 Corinthians 15:1-4

Jesus' birth, death, resurrection and ascension could be depicted as the closing of a loop of thread through a bead: through, down and up. Jesus made the journey for us: through a royal bloodline (Romans 1:3); down from the cross, buried in death; resurrected and ascended to God the Father in heaven. Through, down, and up: the path to eternal salvation is believing it in your heart:

The Gospel of the Resurrection (also called The Gospel of Grace):

Romans 10:9 (NIV)
That if you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord,"
and believe in your heart
that God raised him from the dead,
you will be saved.

1 Corinthians 15:1-4 (KJV)
[...] I declare unto you the gospel [...];
By which also ye are saved,
if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you,
unless ye have believed in vain.
[...] that Christ died for our sins [...];
And that he was buried,
and that he rose again the third day [...]:

When we believe in our heart (1) who Jesus is -- the Son of God; Our Lord -- and (2) that he died upon the cross, shedding his blood as God required to pay the sin debt of all of creation, and (3) was resurrected -- defeated even death; we are undeservedly imputed righteousness in God's eyes and receive many gifts:

• Our sin debt is paid -- we are redeemed from this fallen world (Romans 3:23-26; Ephesians 1:7; Colossians 1:13-14).
• Our sins are cleansed in the eyes of God -- we are undeservedly made righteous (1 John 1:7; Rev. 1:5).
• We receive atonement -- God's incomprehensible grace and forgiveness (Romans 5:11; Leviticus 17:11).
• Our salvation is eternal -- it can never be undone (Hebrews 9:11-12; Romans 11:29).
• We become joint-heirs with Christ (Romans 8:17).
• The Holy Spirit indwells us; even Christ is in us (Colossians 1:27).
• Resurrection of our bodies. God cares for the whole person, not only our soul (the mind, will, and emotions) and spirit, but also our bodies. Resurrection of the dead in Christ in glorious form will occur (Philippians 3:21) -- and those who are alive at His Coming will be transformed "in the twinkling of an eye" (1 Corinthians 15:52).
• And so many unspeakable gifts:

1 Corinthians 2:9 (NLT)
That is what the Scriptures mean when they say,
“No eye has seen, no ear has heard,
and no mind has imagined
what God has prepared
for those who love him.”

We’re each like a bead. The Holy Spirit is the thread, claiming as God's through Christ each believer of The Gospel; securing us, dwelling in us as the guarantee of God’s promises (Ephesians 1:13-15), tying each of us right now to our heavenly citizenship (Philippians 3:20). Through, down and up again - we are secure.

Christ made the journey: through, down, up -- and soon back again for all who believe. All of those secured by The Gospel will be caught up with Christ before the time of tribulation unfolds on the earth (1 Thessalonians 4:16-18, NLT).

Rest securely in God's grace, The Gospel. The Work of the Cross. Believe it to receive all of God’s Promises. Once secure through a believing heart, then put your faith into action: study His Word with a joyous and thankful heart, share The Gospel, love God in return with worship, good works (James 2:17, 2:26), and your own unique contributions to the Body of Christ. Believers' works will be judged - we can't lose our salvation, but we can earn reward as well as suffer loss (see 1 Corinthians 3:11-15).

Securely in the wisdom of God's Great Love,

karen

Sweet Escape

2010-02-22T06:22:00.010-06:00

Sometimes, the insanity of my life is overwhelming and I need to escape, if only for a few minutes. You would think my bathroom would be a safe zone. But no. Here's a typical mini-vacation in pink tile haven:

I slip away without announcement, hoping my presence is not missed. Ahhh, I'm in. Shut the door. Tiptoe to the pink throne with lid down, to sit for only a moment. Perhaps, if I am lucky, there's a lemon drop martini involved. That never happens. My, isn't this the life, I think to myself. Pink tile haven. Mary Kay-Ash would have loved my bathroom.

Within seconds, the puppy is pawing at the door and whining. I crack open the door, but he won't come in. He just stands at the threshold, staring in, then sits so I can't shut the door. O.k., whiner, love ya, but out you go. The door is closing.

Tiptoe back to pink throne. Yes, the toilet is pink, too. I think of all the mamas through the years who possibly sat where I am now, fighting tears, staring at nothing but the toilet paper roll.

Within 30 seconds, Good Buddy comes to the door, "Hey Person, did you know the puppy wants in?" "Yes, honey, I do. Thanks." "Are you going to let him in?" "No, hon. He's o.k."

Good Buddy dashes to his bathroom as he often does when he knows that I'm in mine. We share a common wall on one side. He taps out, "Shave and a haircut" and patiently waits for me to reply by tapping back "two bits."

Shave and a haircut tap tap tah-TAH tap ... < silence >

Shave and a haircut ... < silence >

Shave and a haircut ... < long, awkward silence >

Ridden with guilt, I get up, step into my bathtub (yep), deciding to reply to the next one. I wait. Standing in tub. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting with knuckles poised over the tiled wall. He's given up. Rats!!! I sit back down. Once again. I get a frantic text, "person?" and hear wild snickering.

Just then, tap tap tah-TAH tap at the door. I rush to the door to respond, tap tap, and add *jazz hands* of insanity that he can't see on my side of the door. I wait. Silence. Ahhh. Ok, now, maybe a moment of peace. I sit down. Once again.

"Hey Person?" "Yes, dear?" "Did you know the puppy is still out here?" "Why yes, I do. I can hear him." "Are you going to let him in?" "No dear." "O.k. ... he pee-peed on the floor."

< insert mental implosion > I get up, look in the mirror at crazy woman, splash cold water on my face, dab on some lipstick (because I am a rock STAH, as evidenced by my deranged little stalkers) and open the door to my adoring fans. There's the little pooch, his velvety floppy rabbit ears drooped as low as they can go, and big brown eyes looking up repentantly. Good Buddy is running towards us with paper towel wings flying from each arm. I think to myself, "this is as good as it gets, baby."

Good Buddy hands me the paper towels (of course). I reach for the "puppy pee cleaner" under the sink, and start cleaning the puddle in the carpet ... and *poof* the small crowd at the door vanishes. Imagine that. No one wants to hang around for puddle duty. Just as I am about to relish a tiny moment alone without interruptions, I hear from Good Buddy's room,

"Hey, I didn't hear your toilet flush!!"

Be thankful, kid, because I would have jumped in ... ;)

scrub, scrub, scrub

Paparazzo

2010-02-01T19:09:00.003-06:00

Smallville

2010-01-22T11:50:00.013-06:00

At 5:30 this morning, I let the puppy out and to my surprise, there's my good buddy sitting on the sofa, fully dressed, with a big plate of lasagna leftover from dinner last night.

Already prepared for my first question of the day, "When did you last take a shower, sweetheart?" he exclaims proudly that the only thing that stinks (his word, not mine) today is his breath. He follows that revelation with the heartiest laugh, comically sniffing his armpits. I can't help but laugh, too.

He later takes off for the bike repair shop before I am ready for work, deciding it's better to walk rather than wait for me to drive him there. I know how he is when he has something important to do. I watch him through the front picture window, rolling the bike along beside him, vapors of his breath hitting the cold air trail behind like a smokestack in the wind. He disappears around the corner.

He calls later to say the repairs will cost $65. The bike is worth maybe $5-10 at a thrift store, but it's his bike and I understand. He traded up small items for weeks to finally trade up for that bike at a nearby pawn shop. See, it brakes with the pedals, not the handle bars, and this is key to "drifting" the bike in an empty parking lot as I have learned. Good Buddy hands the phone to the bike repair guy who asks me if I'm sure I want to do more repairs on this bike. I explain that it's a special bike and ask him to do whatever is necessary to maintain it.

Good Buddy patiently waits while the repairs are made and then waits for me to drive to Lee's to pay. He is so patient these days. As I pull into the parking lot, he waves and waves with the biggest grin on his face. He waited outside for me the entire time.

After paying, I can't bear to leave my little fellow to go to the office today, so I invite him for a bagel sandwich across the street. "Sure!" and off he goes, pedaling as fast as he can, beating me there. "Ladies first!" he says at the door of the bagel shop, waiting for me. "Why, thank you, good man."

I order coffee to go and he orders, after lengthy consideration, a plain bagel with cream cheese and a soda. He offers me a bite first - so I can be the first to try the new bagel shop. Then he holds the other half up to his face like a bagel smiley - and laughs.

He tells me all about the discussion with the bike repair guy and how he decided that red handle bar grips were the best color, even though he thought all this time that his bike was more purple-y in the sun, but now it seems red. I compliment his selection, and we talk about his ideas to strip all the paint and the best way to go about doing such a thing.

I can see in his face how hard life has been on him, the sorrows and loneliness that I cannot fill nor mend completely. Time is ticking and I have to go to the office, although today, I could sit with him for hours for some reason, trying to soak in how unique he is, how dear he is to me. He's 21 now.

As I leave, I lean over and kiss him on top of his head, enjoying this unusually simple and joyful morning in our small world. These are times of faith, when I leave him for more than a few hours, hoping the world is understanding and kind. He is a complex soul. I don't know where this journey will lead us, but it will be "us" for as long as he needs it to be. How I love him. He is a treasure.

This post is for me. I want to remember this morning. It was a good morning in Smallville.

Vigil for Haiti

2010-01-14T06:23:00.008-06:00

The last photo is so disturbing, but it is obvious to me that the photo is real. It was supposedly taken in Haiti in 2008. Please do not look away. This is our world. If this child's life stands for anything, let it stand for change. I feel certain this precious boy succumbed to his suffering and dire circumstance, and is no longer with us. For so long, corruption has robbed Haiti of her rightful place in the world. What can each of us do to change this?

If you need it, this is a quiet place to express your prayers, love, thoughts, sorrows, frustrations, and hopes for Haiti and her beautiful, enduring people.

Anonymous comments welcomed. Visit/comment as often as you want.

Love,

karen

---
Photo sources:
Candles, click here. From a vigil for victims of the 12/26/2004 9.2+ quake followed by the Indian Ocean tsunami.
La Romana Sugar Complex, click here.
Last photo, searching for credits.

Just Because

2009-10-13T22:19:00.007-05:00

Wildflowers on Trellis

UPDATE 10/18/09: Thank you everyone for your wonderful comments! Liz, this card is coming your way! Send me a mailing address when you have time. Have a great week everyone! xo ---

The last beaded card. It's been huddled in the desk drawer for months, waiting patiently for a purpose. I'd like to give it away. Just because. Maybe it will serve as a cheerful reminder of spring during the upcoming cold winter months?

So how about sharing a comment about anything you've said recently (or want to say) to God -- a thought, a prayer, a whisper, a heart note, a revelation of his character. It doesn't have to be fancy or clever. Leave as many comments as you want. I'll randomly choose one around noon this Saturday, and mail that person this card. (Make sure I can link back to find your email address or leave it in your comment.)

Me? I often ask God for wisdom -- not even knowing exactly what I may need. Or I may whisper "I love you" while in traffic or shuffling through unpaid bills on my desk. A humble "thank you" standing at the open door of a fully-stocked refrigerator, asking God to bless every person who made that possible. I seek guidance in 'otherhood ... oh so many prayers in this area of my life. Also I ask to age with strength and grace, on a productive path in life. I ask that messages be delivered to my earthly father, who is now in heaven. So much wisdom he shared about God that I only now understand. I rejected it in my youth only to now realize it was the greatest gift I could ever receive.

Love is simple,

karen

Road Closed

2009-10-03T22:02:00.011-05:00

Road ahead is temporarily closed ... taking time away from the blog. Relying on the cooler fall weather, preparing garden beds with my hands in the dirt, and nature's wonders to give me a lift. I become lost in my days between 'otherhood, work, running our small household, and so many other things. I often turn to solitude although the foreground of my life goes on. An inner solitude, a time to acknowledge God, reminding myself of his love for us all.

All is well. Sending you much love!

karen

---

Although this road is temporarily closed, consider a detour to Kopila Valley Children's Home. Exit here. A beautiful place for amazing little ones. Pour yourself a cup of coffee, visit the site, wander the path ... and be amazed.

Tweet it, blog it, contribute. xo

The Mothership Has Landed

2009-09-08T06:02:00.006-05:00

Greetings Earthlings, We Come in Peace

On my way to the coffeemaker this morning, I am greeted by this spiffy card-mobile. Visitors from outer space? Or only Spongebob & Squidward delivering krabby patties en route to Tulsa's new Hard Rock Hotel & Casino? Judging by the crop circles found in the fridge, I surmise someone couldn't sleep last night, was hungry ... and a little bored.

Happy Tuesday!

Let Them Eat Cake

2009-08-28T18:02:00.003-05:00

I did not just make a chocolate cake. This, yes, looks like a big chocolate cake (and boy does it smell good). I HAD to make this because I bought buttermilk for homemade ranch dressing for good buddy. You can't throw perfectly good buttermilk away - what was I supposed to do with the leftovers? We do not waste food around here. No sir.

So, if there's buttermilk in the fridge, three things will be on the menu in the very near future: chocolate cake (eh hmmm, pictured above), ranch dressing, and my somewhat famous quiche.

We eat fruit! And vegetables! Salads galore! I swear there's a cantaloupe on the counter right now! Fresh spinach in the fridge. Chocolate cake is healthy ... there are all those claims about the wonders of dark chocolate!

I can't share the recipe for the cake because someone who shall go nameless believes this very recipe is the reason her husband married her. Now, that's ridiculous, don't you think? However, just in case, do keep in mind that I can make the cake ... that causes men to fall at one's feet. I make. the cake. O.k.? O.k. Looking at feet. Not seeing swooning men.

Tsk tsk. It's like putting salt on the bird's tail. If you can do that, the bird is already yours. If he sauntered to the table to eat the cake, D., then I think he was already in over his head. Although I do recall that you baked that cake for him before you ever dated. Crafty. Very crafty.

Don't you think, if this cake were indeed the key to one's heart, that nameless already-married-person would want to share it so others could cast their spell? I may share it and suffer the consequences ... I'll let you know, dear single friends. Because I do believe that this cake could tip the scales (wink, wink), and I don't mean the bathroom scales. I know that's what you were thinking.

Living on a Shoestring

2009-08-28T17:12:00.003-05:00

Earlier this week, 1:15 in the morning, I hear from the hallway, "Person? Person?"

I answer without getting out of bed, having grown accustomed to late night awakenings through the years. It's so still and quiet, you could hear a pin drop. "Yeah?"

"Will you remind me Friday to switch my shoelaces? I want the black laces in my white shoes and my white laces in my black shoes, o.k.?"

He must be anxious about something totally unrelated to shoelaces. No need to ask a question. He's probably overwhelmed. "O.k. honey."

"O.k."

Off he goes down the hall. I ponder what could be going on. He sees others his age dating, driving, working, living on their own, going to college. Life sparkles, dreams captivate, passions bloom, the world is magical.

Don't over think it, I tell myself, feeling small and inadequate. I imagine all I would like to do tomorrow if we could. The list wears me out as I doze off.

I reminded him about his shoelaces this morning as promised.

The image above just made me smile.

Finding Our Way

2009-08-24T23:00:00.014-05:00

May 2009 at Good Buddy's New Apartment

Independent living is a slippery slope. I may share more of what happened during Good Buddy's short 10-week stint living on his own, but it is a somewhat painful and sad chapter. We had such hope but I braced for the worst, knowing him and the world's ways. Yet, it was time to let go and give it a try. We are still recovering, now only ankle deep in the emotional and financial aftermath.

The snapshot above is nothing more than that - a moment spanning the click of the shutter, captured within the confines of a frame too small for the underlying story to roam freely. I discovered it today in some archives, and it stands in stark contrast to the events of that time.

I am holding the camera as far out as possible with one hand, pointing it towards us for a fleeting keepsake. It's a bittersweet souvenir, for all too soon, independence became once again in-dependence.

Lately, I stay close to the kitchen, quietly going through the motions of the day as life tumbles around me. Pondering all of it and where we go from here. Preparing meals, speaking to God silently in my heart. Posting the recipes you've seen that are nothing more than that - a moment spanning the click of the shutter, captured within the confines of a frame too small for the underlying story to roam freely.

My heart goes out to all who struggle to find their way. I guess that's all of us, isn't it?

Love roams freely,

karen

Hey Person

2009-08-23T19:02:00.003-05:00

Through it all, I'm his person. He's my good buddy.

Shredded Pork BBQ & Coleslaw

2009-08-22T23:40:00.023-05:00

Warning: Vegans, look away!

UPDATE: Please manually arrow through slide show. Auto feature stopped. Trying to fix. Darn you, Picasa *shaking fist in air*

Another recipe post ... surprise! This is another favorite dish around here because it is super easy to make, easy clean up, low cost, delicious, nutritious (pork shoulder is lean), makes several meals ... it's just good all the way around.

Slow Cooker Pork:

Pork shoulder roast (about 4 lbs), salt & peppered
2 c water
1 t olive oil

Optional spices to add to slow cooker:

1 t powdered onion
1 t dry mustard
1 t celery seed
1/2 t black pepper
1/2 t salt
3 garlic cloves, crushed
2 bay leaves

BBQ sauce, about 18 oz.

Remove netting from boneless pork shoulder roast, rinse well with cool water, pat dry. Salt and pepper. Braise well on all sides in large non-stick pan, heated to medium high with about 1 T olive oil in pan.

Pour 2 cups water in slow cooker. Add spices (optional - it's delicious with only salt & pepper, too) and 1 t olive oil. Next, add meat. Make sure slow cooker is the appropriate size -- pork roast featured above is 4 lbs. Turn on high for 1 hour, then to low for another 5-6. When done, remove from cooker and shred with forks - it's so tender it falls apart. Add 3/4 of BBQ sauce and reserve remaining sauce to add to sandwiches later. I use Head Country (Original) brand. Mix with forks and place in bowl.

Save broth from the slow cooker - it's really savory. Place in container, cool in fridge overnight. Remove fat that solidifies on top, then freeze.

Slaw is best if made day before:

1 small (or 1/2 large) head green cabbage, finely shredded
1 med red onion (or 1/2 large), thinly sliced

Slaw Dressing:

1 c white sugar
1 c white vinegar
1/4 c olive oil
1/2 t celery seed
1/2 t black pepper
1 t salt
1 t dry mustard

Boil dressing on stove top (keep lid on it - it is quite 'aromatic' - whew!). When at a rolling boil, pour over cabbage and onion in bowl. Toss, cover and set in fridge for several hours, overnight if possible. Tip: to avoid vinegar fumes throughout house, this can be microwaved! Tip: to break down slaw faster, crush with hands before adding hot dressing.

To serve:

Toast buns in skillet, oven, or grill with butter and lots o' garlic. Toast well for maximum crunch. Add shredded meat and extra sauce if desired. Serve with slaw on the side. Many enjoy the slaw on the sandwich. I skip the bread entirely - BBQ with slaw on top in a small bowl is awesome!

I'm always looking for the perfect slaw - do you have a great recipe? This one is good but I'm always on the hunt for knock-your-socks-off coleslaw ... UPDATE: we've decided this is pretty dang good slaw - the requests keep coming in ;)

Split Pea Soup

2009-08-21T17:57:00.010-05:00

Southern comfort in a soup bowl

This is not turning into a food blog, but I do love to share what's going on in the kitchen, you know, since that's where I spend a. lot. of. time. Good buddy can eat like nobody's business, so I'm always thrilled to find any dish that's delicious, nutritious, filling, inexpensive, easy to make, and on the low calorie side. Presenting ... split pea soup, a southern comfort soul food. Everything was simmering in the slow cooker just after lunch today, and on the table in time for dinner.

I found this recipe at About.com, and I agree with all the smashing reviews. Click here to read more.

Re-posting the recipe from About.com:
-----
Slow Cooker Split Pea Soup

1 (16 oz.) pkg. dried green split peas, rinsed
1 meaty ham bone, 2 ham hocks, or 2 cups diced ham
3 carrots, peeled and sliced
1/2 cup chopped onion
2 ribs of celery plus leaves, chopped
1 or 2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 bay leaf
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped, or 2 teaspoons dried parsley flakes
1 tbsp. seasoned salt (or to taste)
1/2 tsp. fresh pepper
1 1/2 qts. hot water

Layer ingredients in slow cooker in the order given; pour in water. Do not stir ingredients. Cover and cook on HIGH 4 to 5 hours or on low 8 to 10 hours until peas are very soft and ham falls off bone. Remove bones and bay leaf. Mash peas to thicken more, if desired. Serve garnished with croutons. Freezes well.
Serves 8.
-----

I replaced 1 tbsp of seasoned salt with 1 tsp of sea salt. I didn't have a ham bone in the freezer, so I bought ham hocks for the first time. An inexpensive substitute, but watch out for small bones in the soup. Set cooker to high for 1 hour, then turned to low for 3+ hours. After removing ham hocks and bay leaf, blended with the mixer right in the cooker. Served with a dollop of sour cream and herbs from our tiny herb garden ... just showin' off for the camera ;)

GREAT TIP: Instead of meaty ham bone, 2 ham hocks, or 2 cups diced ham -- use savory broth left in slow cooker after making Shredded Pork BBQ. After broth is cooled and fat removed, measure it then add enough water to equal 1 1/2 quarts liquid.

Good buddy gives this soup his highest rating, "It's waayyy better than Whataburger and the best soup I've ever had. Ever!" Believe me, that's a 5-star rating. I think he's eaten at Whataburger twice in, uhm ... ever.

What's your favorite soup recipe? Add a link in the comments if you have a post you want to share!

Love,

karen

Fettuccine Alfredo

2009-08-16T23:38:00.025-05:00

For enlarged view at your own pace, click anywhere on picture (except arrow in middle)

Fettuccine Alfredo

Alfredo Sauce:
4 c (32 oz.) heavy cream
2 T butter
1 T olive oil
10 oz. grated Parmesan (freshly grated works best)
5+ large cloves garlic, crushed & minced
1 tsp salt
1 tsp black or white pepper

I skip the freshly ground nutmeg and there's much less butter than most variations of Alfredo sauce. You won't miss it, promise.

Fettuccine Pasta (Doubled):
4 c flour (can use 2 c 00/farina pasta flour + 2 c regular flour)
6 large eggs
1-2 tsp salt (I use 2 tsp)
2 T olive oil

We made homemade fettuccine Alfredo for dinner tonight. Thought I would take some photos and put together ... a post! Homemade pasta is the key to melt-in-your-mouth fettuccine Alfredo. There's no comparison!

So, put on a big stock pot of water to boil the pasta, add 2 T olive oil, no salt (I don't use lemon juice in the water when making fettuccine Alfredo). Then in a large, non-stick saute pan, bring 4 c cream, 1 T olive oil, garlic and salt to a boil over med high heat, then simmer on low, stirring occasionally. This is to reduce the cream and make it thicker. While this is simmering, make the pasta.

Refer to the slide show for making the pasta from scratch. Go through the settings 1 through 6 without skipping any. I use bread flour if you are wondering.

When the pasta is ready to boil, the water is at a rolling boil, and the sauce reducing -- put butter in the Alfredo sauce and turn it up to med heat. The olive oil will start to blend in with the cream when you stir - there will be a nice froth. Then start boiling the pasta in small batches for 3 minutes each. It doesn't take long with fresh pasta. Have a large utensil ready to scoop/strain the pasta and place it in the colander in the sink.

Boil the pasta, stirring the Alfredo sauce now and then, turning the heat down a bit. After all the pasta is boiled and rinsed, sprinkle Parmesan on top of sauce. Leave it be a few minutes until it melts. Place pasta in serving dish (rinse again first if it needs loosened). Gently stir sauce until Parmesan blended in - should be quite thick. Pour sauce over pasta in serving dish, toss gently with utensil just enough to coat. Guests will be hovering at this point - it smells scrumptious! Very simple, but oh so good.

Best when served immediately. You can refrigerate leftovers and it reheats well. Just don't overheat. I think the key is to never overheat Alfredo -- or the oil in the Parmesan and cream will separate - then it's ruined. (Have you ever nuked cheese in the microwave and the whey is in a pool of oil? That's what will ruin Alfredo sauce.)

If you have questions, would love to hear from you! Fettuccine Alfredo brings a lot of smiles around here. Smiles & good wine zero out any calories ... pasta is a happy dish, for sharing with family and friends.

In honor of my late godmother, Rosaria "Sarah" Lupo-Panfilo of Palermo, Sicily. A vibrant Italian woman of endless energy, love and warmth (and a kitchen that never closed).

I've missed everyone! Thank you for the many words of encouragement.

Love is richer than Alfredo sauce ;)

karen

'Otherhood Survival Kit

2009-07-18T22:06:00.008-05:00

Nothing profound to say. 'Otherhood is hard. I don't share much about our day-to-day lives. It's complicated. If you are a caregiver, you are in my prayers.

Thank you, thank you to the most generous couple (love you!) for delivering a well packed survival kit tonight. Thank you for realizing that I had drifted into deep waters. Thank you for the life line. A round of martinis. Wine & Godiva chocolate for later. Dinner and a river walk. Hugs. Compassion. Appreciation. Smiling faces.

I don't know when I'll return to blogging. I miss everyone.

'Other down. 'Other down.

Ps. Now, uhm, of course, not sayin' martinis are the answer to hard times. The chocolate, however, is gone. ;)

For A Good Time Call: 867-5309

2009-07-03T15:46:00.003-05:00

Remember Tommy Tutone? He's got Jenny's number. Eight six seven five, three 'o niEE-ine. I wonder if Tommy and Jenny ever connected?

Mr. Nice Man, who called me June 17th, whose name begins with an "E," I don't have your number. If you happen to Google my name and find this post, you'll know why I never called back.

We met by chance. You bought my ticket because I didn't have cash (what ticket office is cash only?). You paid my way ... just because. I repaid you with a check with my cell number printed on it. You called me 2 weeks later and said all the right things. Then you said you wouldn't pester me and would never call again, but asked me to jot down your number from caller ID and please call you if I would like to get together. You let me know you weren't going to cash my check.

But, E., my life is a total zoo. I was at the office, phones ringing, people hovering about the door, not to mention being in the midst of the most bizarre 'otherhood crisis yet. So by the time I checked my received calls the next morning to jot down your number, it had rolled off the list, and incoming calls aren't listed on the bill.

So, E., break your promise to yourself and call me again. Or find this post. Coffee sounds great.

Editor's Note: This artful espresso pour by Shades of Brown, T-town.

Father's Day

2009-06-21T13:44:00.014-05:00

Even in death, you gave freely to complete strangers because they were in need. (Click Photo to Read Print)

Every letter you wrote to me after I was grown & on my own. A father's love is infinite.

Thanks for the good times, Dad. For standing firm as a father even when it brought you much heartache and hardship. I hold the wisdom you shared and the love for our Lord. I miss your incredible laugh, your tender hazel eyes, strong arms and, of course, our fishing trips.

If only you were here. I need you so much lately, but you gave me eternal gifts of the heart and spirit that will carry me through. The expression of my gratitude will unfold throughout my life just as your gifts to me will require a lifetime to receive. You selflessly served God, your country as a young Navy man, your family and anyone in need. I will see you again and I will embrace you with tears flowing and a joy that I cannot even imagine.

I love you.

your super tink

Love Builds Houses

2009-06-17T07:45:00.003-05:00

Esteria's Home in Rwanda, photo courtesy of Jen Lemen

Remember this beautiful soul? Here's an update from the amazing Jen Lemen. I've missed her, haven't you? Read about all the crazy incredible things she's doing, lives she is elevating through collaboration with others.

There are so many ways to give, to share our love with others. Hope you are inspired to join in: blog it, tweet, contribute, find your own way to support these great women and projects.

Love elevates lives,

karen

More on Patina

2009-06-14T21:17:00.010-05:00

Since I seem to be on a jewelry theme, thought I would share another example of "oxidizing" silver, or creating a patina using liver of sulfur (that conjures up delightful images, no?). The process really doesn't have anything to do with oxidizing the metal, but I still use that term like most do. While I had the sulfur ready, I dipped this sterling silver necklace that I made several years ago. See the depth the patina adds after the piece is polished?

I refinished the lapis earrings, too, but I didn't make these. These were gifted to me years ago, when it was stylish to wear earrings bigger than my head ;) I don't think I've worn these since I was 26 years old. They're so beautiful.

Here are the links again to great videos on how to patina metal jewelry:

Part I and Part II.

Hope 'Otherhood brings happier times this week. Good Buddy endured very hard times recently. Life can deal low blows at the most unexpected times. I am proud to see him bounce back and keep going. That's what I love about him. Seems funny to post about jewelry in the midst of all we went through, mostly him.

Love,

karen

Love Gives

2009-06-14T14:35:00.010-05:00

Click Photo to Enlarge Image

Here are the necklaces for the Blink [Click] giveaway winners -- pick 2 or 3 that you like and I'll try to send one from your selections. I created a patina to give depth to the silver since these are more delicate pieces. Yowza, that was a lot of polishing! The chains are 24" long so you don't have to use the clasp. The colorful beads remind me of Juntara's vibrant spirit. The hearts, that we're all connected.

These are only a token of what I really wanted to send you, if I had no limitations. I drooled over heavier silver chains, semi-precious stones, and even a little silver bath tub charm that reminded me of Juntara's tato pokari (the hot lake) song.

I hope these always remind you of Kopila Valley Children's Home. Blog it. Tweet. Give. Contribute. Sponsor. There are many ways to help this wonderful organization.

Love gives,

karen

Ps. I am not associated with KVCH. Just an inspired blogger who sponsors a child at KVCH and hopes others will, too.
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Sterling Silver Pieces Before Patina

Want to learn how to create a patina on metal jewelry? These are the best videos I have found using liver of sulfur gel: Part I and Part II.

Blink [Click] Giveaway Winners

2009-06-08T14:41:00.002-05:00

I'll update this announcement later. For now, everyone who entered the giveaway by commenting wins a sterling silver chain & pendant. There weren't enough comments to hold the big giveaway, so I thought - I'll give everyone something! Cindy, your lovely email counts, too.

I purchased the silver chains and pendants at a bead show Sunday, but I want to oxidize them, etc. I think you'll like it -- the pendant is a reminder that everyone is connected -- it's a surprise.

Please send me a mailing address at theartofheart (at) cox (dot) net, and consider posting about Kopila Valley Children's Home. That's what the giveaway was all about -- spreading the word. So so thrilled that Maggie won the $100,000!

We've had an event here at home and this will be my only post this week. I'll do my best to contact everyone who entered by email, too. Will try to mail out the necklaces next weekend.

Thank you so much for entering & spreading the word about KVCH.

Love endures,

karen

Blink [Click], Love Changes Everything

2009-05-30T22:42:00.013-05:00

This is a special giveaway to encourage you & everyone you know to take a few seconds to vote online for a finalist, Maggie Doyne, in DoSomething.org's contest.

Don't want to read all of this? Go to DIRECT LINK at the end of this post to vote.

Why is this so important? First, it is an incredible accomplishment to make it to the finals -- read about these extraordinary young people. Also, the finalist receiving the most online votes will be awarded $100,000 for his or her organization. $100,000. Can you imagine how this could help the children of the Kopila Valley Children's Home? We sponsor a wonderful young boy at this amazing place.

So vote everyday. From now until 12:00 pm PST, June 4th. Every time you vote, come back here to enter the giveaway: just leave a comment stating what you would give to KVCH if you had $100,000. Like a library, art supplies, new clothes, bikes, more room for more children, furniture, computers, medical care, a spa retreat for mother Maggie!

The double-stranded, turquoise & vintage bead necklace is valued at $225. I'll post more pictures soon. It's a piece I made from mostly sterling silver beads, beautifully webbed turquoise, and these one-of-a-kind, handmade black beads adorned with detailed bouquets of flowers. The outer strand is 28" long, and the authentic 1950s vintage beads of the two strands line up when worn together. The strands can be worn many ways.

The catch? The giveaway will only be held if there are at least 300 comments (the same person can vote/comment everyday) by the deadline. So, copy the link to this post and send it to everyone you know! Vote, vote, vote! If you have a blog, talk it up or host a giveaway of your own if you want. Oh I want Maggie to win this! Wouldn't that be wonderful?

If you have questions about this giveaway, just email me at theartofheart (at) cox (dot) net, ok? This isn't a ploy to generate ad revenue -- this is an ad-free blog. This is all about KVCH winning the much needed and deserved $100,000. Disclaimer: KVCH is not associated with nor sponsoring this giveaway. I'm just an inspired blogger. ;)

I will pay to ship to the winner up to US$25. So, I will ship international if there is some method by which you can receive mail at a reasonable cost.

Please BLOG IT-TWITTER-VOTE today!

"I believe that in the blink of an eye, we can all make a difference." -- Maggie Doyne, founder of BlinkNow.

LINKS:

1. DIRECT LINK to vote. WARNING: This can be confusing. After you are at the DoSomething.Org website: Click on "Vote Now" yellow arrow. Click Next Video until Maggie's appears. Click thumbs up icon - it will turn green. Close screen (don't use the back arrow to exit). There's no voting confirmation, so we hope that little man behind the curtain isn't sleeping. Seriously, it's like using a public restroom and realizing too late that there's no TP. Couldn't they spare a square? ;)

2. If you want to learn more about Maggie Doyne: Maggie Doyne's blog post about this contest. Get involved with KVCH: give, talk it up, sponsor a child, or just VOTE!

3. If you want a link to this post, use permalink or copy & paste this in an email, then send to everyone you know: http://karenmaehr.blogspot.com/2009/05/blink-click-love-changes-everything.html

Blink [Click], love changes everything,

karen

In Honor of Deepak

2009-05-26T04:57:00.011-05:00

See that beautiful bracelet? It arrived in the mail not too long ago - on a day when I really needed a sign of hope, a thankful gesture. ('Otherhood, my friends, is not for the weak ...) And here arrives something special made by someone who owes no such gesture of kindness to me. I am undeserving of any recognition or thanks for the very minor role I fulfill as a sponsor from a faraway land. I PayPal $25 a month to help feed and clothe this wonderful young boy, Deepak, who shoots arrows at the moon and loves his family. He lives in Nepal at the Kopila Valley Children's Home. The bracelet is actually a necklace, but I wear it around my wrist as a constant reminder to myself of Deepak, his journey in life, and the amazing KVCH.

In honor of Deepak, I biked to the grocery store last Sunday instead of driving. I have begun biking as much as possible, mapping ways around my neighborhood to avoid traffic. Running small errands. Reminding me that life can be lived simply ... beautifully. That the greatest achievements in life are nurtured from within and through others, with little need for excess in our surroundings.

Thank you, Deepak! You inspire us!

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VOTE! for Maggie Doyne & the Kopila Valley Children's Home project. $100,000 funding for KVCH is at stake! You can vote everyday from now until 12:00 pm PST on June 4th.

Please vote today & Pass this on!

DIRECT LINK to vote. Click on "Vote Now" yellow arrow. Click Next Video until Maggie's appears. Click thumbs up icon - it will turn green. That's it! Ask everyone you know to VOTE. Thanks!

Has Anyone Seen this Girl?

2009-05-18T06:59:00.044-05:00

1976 was a very good year. My best friends were Dad, a fishing pole, and any furry, feathered or scaled critter crossing my path. Dad would always bring earthworms on our fishing trips, waiting to see how I would do without them -- my young heart would have no part in the doomed fate of those poor wigglers. I'm sure he delighted to see the Toasted Oats cereal box under my arm, my latest fishin' invention. At the relief of a few spared worms, I would survey the water's surface around the boat and fancy a certain area. Reel ready, pole within reach, fishin' hat adjusted, I'd scatter the toasted flakes hoping the wind would take 'em further than I could throw. No snickering allowed from the other side of the boat as I waited impatiently for the fish to surface, wanting to reel in the first catch. I listened to the rhythm of my father's reel, the line arching beautifully over the water, dragonflies zipping about as the sun danced upon the lure before it sank perfectly into the water with barely a sound. Oh my father was a good man. He belonged to nature, it belonged to him.

Undeterred and careful not to wobble the small bass boat, I leaned to peer over the edge, my beady blue eyes staring back at me in the water's reflection. "Come on Toasted Oats, bring one in for me." Time to plop down a colorful, frilly lure from the tip of the pole, barely letting the line out. Worked like a charm -- even though my catches barely compared to minnows my father may have used for bait. But he beamed with pride over every catch, and would hold it up to admire it fully. Now and then, I'd venture to cast my line in a beautiful arc, navigating by the sound of the line more than sight, having heard the chords of my father's perfect casts so so many times. Leaving the cereal box at home one September day, I returned home that night with the prized catch pictured above, having joined my father's ranks of true fishermen. I belonged to nature, and it to me.

Nary a thought of make-up or brushing my sun-bleached locks, I could often be found dressed in my favorite Live-In brand jeans from an up and coming store called Wal-Mart. I hugged my Mom everyday, my other best friend. She sewed the shirt in this picture -- it went with the pin-striped overhauls she custom-made to look like my Grandpa's. I greeted each little top stitch coming out of the other side of the sewing machine while her fingers danced around the needle, lining everything up just so. So delicate and precise she was! I admired the fine cotton fabric and how she matched the stripes on each seam.

Looking back, I realize this was my last year to live like a free-spirited young girl who could fly in her dreams as if it were for real and fearlessly climb trees no matter how high up the first branch may have been. I was proud to be among the great Rock Hounds of the time and to own a shiny microscope from the Montgomery Wards catalogue. At night, outfits slept carefully placed in a chair by the bed -- shirt on the back, jeans in the seat as if sitting there with no one in them, and shoes below, untied with a sock on each side. Mornings consisted of a well calculated jump out of bed no earlier than 3 minutes before the school bus was to arrive, leaping into the deflated version of myself asleep in the chair, brushing my teeth and dashing down a dirt road to the bus. My mother likely had breakfast out every morning, but I was never that refined.

Wrapped in nature and my imagination, I was absolutely oblivious to everything, and loved everything and everyone. One day I looked intently in the mirror trying to determine if I were ugly or not. Something had pierced the fragile wonder bubble in which I lived among blue-tailed lizards, tadpoles, and hand drawn coupons for "free back scratches." At that time, I could have been Huck Finn's sister: my jeans rolled up in uneven fashion, muddy shoes and grass burs clinging to my socks and shoelaces. Freckle-faced and wild, blond hair. Grubby hands and dirty fingernails. Cocoons in my pockets to be placed later above the fireplace in my special "hatching" box.

The world's standard of beauty had not yet made itself known, but I felt prompted to somehow define myself. With only my innocence staring back at me in that mirror -- no different than the girl I met in the pond's reflection -- I tried to answer the troubling question. Then I thought to myself, "Nope, I can't be ugly. Can't be. God wouldn't create anything ugly." And that settled it. The defiant screen door slammed behind me as I dashed out of the side door of our country bungalow -- rattling the jasmine bush with my hands to infuriate the bees -- running just fast enough towards the pond to out-pace those pesky stingers. My eyes scanned for snakes with each light-footed bounce through the grass, quickly glancing towards the garden to see if those peanuts I had planted with Dad were breaking through the soil yet. My biggest fears in the world were seed ticks and liver & onions for dinner. Well, and the occasional math quiz.

I pondered eternity while exploring nature. It made me dizzy. My love for God grew with each discovery of his creativity and wisdom. I posed questions to God as I raced against sunset towards home, backtracking the map of a 9 year old -- dirt road, gravel, edge of pond, left at big rock, follow salt blocks to barn, fence line to back pasture, then I could see our home in the distance. "God, why did you create us so that we have to eat? Life sure would be easier if we didn't have all this fuss over food, but you must know what you're doing."

Where oh where did this charming, untamed girl go? What precious memories she has given me because my wise and loving parents allowed her to do so ... before this life of cell phones, email, home computers, flat screens and MP3 players. College and careers. Relationships and relocations. The corporate world and 'otherhood. Back then, I melted into the big blue sky everyday, could fly upon the wind over barbed wire fences, befriended breathtaking Luna moths and collected fossils, quartz, and arrowheads. The scents of paperwhites, pine trees, freshly cut pastures full of hops, earthy red soil and the Ouachita river defined my world, the land I claimed beneath my feet. Rustling forests, birds of every kind, frogs, cicadas and crickets orchestrated concertos while armored grasshoppers adorned in striking attire ushered me to a mezzanine field of wild garlic pods and rustic grasses. The sun lowered to pour golden oil into lamps of stained-glass wings upon their backs. It was the ultimate black-tie affair for a young country girl.

Post-concerto, Elton John's Philadelphia Freedom played in my head as I kicked pine cones down the road on the way to an abandoned homestead held upright by a surviving porch post -- the secret clubhouse of the "I Spy" gang. Daydreams of the cute boys on the bus interrupted my review of last week's club attendance records. Star struck and love sick, I couldn't wait for junior high.

I'm off to find that wild girl with the fiery spirit and a heart so tender that she'd save every cocoon from the harsh cold of winter. And this, my friends, is how I intend to find her:

Editor's Note: Introducing Townie, my new tangerine Electra Townie from Bicycles of Tulsa. Double dog dare you to get one for yourself ... come on!

A Heart Hopeful

2009-05-04T05:12:00.003-05:00

I remember taking this photo last summer. I asked him to look up, and he tried and tried. Capturing this image required several attempts. Finally, his eyes overcame their fear and made the journey, although he wouldn't lift his face fully to the sky. Then to look up and break a smile was too much. Try it. Look up with great anticipation, and smile. It makes my heart flutter.

I love how the sun embraces his attention here, soft light admiring its reflection in those beautiful eyes.

So many of you have asked how we're doing. He's transitioning fairly well to life on his own. "Rent-free" acquaintances, two stray puppies, and an abandoned couch have found an open door ... ;). I don't intervene, but lovingly observe with a heart hopeful that life is kind to him. There will be scrapes and bruises, and hard lessons learned. It's time to learn them. There have been moments of real discouragement, but he keeps going. This is what is most important. I love him dearly.

Our parting words Friday evening:

"Do you need anything?"
"Nah, we're fine but thanks."
"How's life?" cautiously works its way into the conversation.
"I'm living my dream. I have friends and you're my family and this is what I've always wanted."
"I love you, my friend."
"I love you, too."
"See you Sunday?"
"Yeah."

Look up, young man. Find the courage to love yourself. The Lord is with you on this journey.

Refresh

2009-05-04T00:36:00.014-05:00

The weekend was simple, peaceful and fully enjoyed. Hands in the dirt. Simple meals made of beautiful vegetables and aromatic herbs. Sweet basil. Rosemary. Mint. The smell of rain and strawberries. An evening out at a favorite Irish Pub with those I hold dear.

So so thankful for these moments. A place to rest my soul and breathe. Did you have time to refresh this weekend?

Love is simple,

karen

Barnum & Bailey Circus

2009-04-22T00:01:00.011-05:00

No Barnum here, just Bailey. My niece's overgrown lab rat that should be traveling with the circus. Or at least a theater troupe. Observe closely the range and depth of the characters she portrays! Above, a sad Harlequin or a street performer with her shtick. It's the only shtick she's got (for now).

Switch to sexy pout glamour shot -- look at those puckered lips and ears swept back in a sleek up do! This is actually her best response to, "smile for the camera!" She thinks her ears make her face look fat. (Mental note: do not use flash around BaiBai ... ever.)

Then finally, totally disinterested. Good for an extra in CSI perhaps. Lifeless, she is hanging on ... for one. more. cooookie.

She may just have bad gas in all of these photos ...

Are you kidding me? Hello? Helllooo? Does anyone see the talent here? Gold mine, I tell ya.

Watch out, Chuck, there's a new dog in town. (So so kidding, Mr. Chuckles. There's no other Chuck. Nothing even close to your brilliant star. So brilliant that we won't even mention neurotic Coco, a mere understudy. Will someone bring the limo around?? And get a fresh biscuit out here el pronto ...)

Drive

2009-04-19T23:54:00.046-05:00

A cold snap sent winds blustering through the Wal-Mart parking lot this evening, blowing my hair in every direction as I left the store with a full cart. While in the checkout lane, I explained the two boxes of soda pop, cookies, gallon of chocolate milk, and other assorted junk food to an attentive cashier. "I shop for someone else who grins ear-to-ear over a gallon of chocolate milk." "He has some challenges and doesn't drive and he’s usually with me. He lives on his own now.”

She gives me a knowing wink and smiles as she tallies up the total: $72.09. "I’ll bet he’s worth every penny," she consoles, seeing that I had checked every price as it bleeped by.

Yes, he is. He's more than worth it.

Absence indeed makes the heart grow fonder, his welcoming hugs and greetings more pronounced with every visit since we parted ways. Good-byes grow longer followed by promises to see each other again soon. Words of wisdom exchanged quickly as the door closes. "Oh, do you need TP? Call me if you need anything! Be careful walking around. I love you … remember the Lord."

This is the third grocery run in as many weeks to stock his new apartment, and the least expensive trip so far. I thank the cashier and push the loaded cart to the parking lot, relieved the rain has taken a break from playing. Massive clouds press upon the horizon like shifting mountains, forming a fault line between the heavens and earth, revealing only a fine vein of brilliant gold sun flowing between the two. Skittish winds dart about, gossiping over the scandal of hard rain and evening sun holding hands. The wind makes me laugh, my long bangs dancing nearly straight up, then swooping down to play the bongos around my face. Like a strong-armed bouncer, I gather the drunken revelers in one hand so I can see ahead, pushing the cart with the other.

Just then, an amazingly preserved, yellow 1970s Chrysler turns heads. A man presumably in his 50s with a boyish countenance enthusiastically waves at me from the front passenger’s seat, our eyes locked in glittery happiness. I smiled intently, letting go of the cart to wave back. Squinting through the wind, I observe the driver: a woman well into her 70s. A crown of silver hair. A red suit with matching red lipstick. Hands commanding the overly large steering wheel at 10:00 and 2:00. She acknowledges her passenger and looks straight at me, with a sheepish grin.

She has likely been his caregiver most of her adult life. His challenges were more pronounced than in our situation. Compassion and connection to this woman welled up in my heart. I wondered if she could be his mother – the ages fit. Or an aunt or another relative who had to step in. I concluded from her mode of transportation that she made the sacrifices necessary to care for him. The well-preserved car spoke volumes. I, too, possess that near obsessive nature of making things last far longer than intended, reserving funds to provide for someone who cannot provide fully for himself. Someone cherished, understood and loved unconditionally.

As the first bags go in the trunk, I slide an orphaned appendage out of the way: an outside rear view mirror hit by a careless driver. "I forgot to buy duct tape. Again!" Holding it up, I wonder if its central nervous system of colorful wires could ever be reconnected sans duct tape or under fifty bucks, then I see myself in the mirror. Before I could murmur a criticism of how tired I look these days, it dawns on me that my future just drove by in a '76 Chrysler and a red suit.

I step into the car, tapping all the necessary pockets as a woman does with too many things on her mind. Lost in a haze of thoughts, I dig through my purse until I find a familiar shape: a favorite lipstick. I think about Red Suit and glittery happiness, scraping by and the meaning of life. I'm at a crossroads having lost all sense of direction, wondering on which side of that brilliant gold fault line I stand in all the complexities of this life.

A desperate glance in the rear view mirror for youth and answers. Youth is red lipstick. Answers aren't in the rear view, but ahead. Place hands firmly at 10:00 and 2:00, smile at the wonder of it all ... and drive.

Goddess Durga

2009-04-15T06:45:00.018-05:00

See the vertical lines sweeping up my forehead, like the charred remains of fire blasting out of a furnace, singeing what was once a welcoming and gentle hearth?

Otherhood did this to me.

Should I furrow my brow to the slightest degree, a stark W forms between my brows, "w"arning instigator of said furrowed expression to run for the fire extinguisher. Or the nearest exit. Or just run. Because my Goddess Durga voice is about to hurl winds of fire out of my mouth.

My mother could evoke the same response with one eyebrow. That eyebrow. You know the one. You could feel it 50 yards away. She could maneuver that eyebrow like a leather whip, commanding instant control of a roomful of unruly children. I tried that once, but the situation required more Zeon Force rays than I could muster, and my eyebrow had to be surgically re-attached.

Read someone else's experience with her inner Goddess Durga. What's yours?

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Support Kopila Valley Children's Home. A beautiful place for amazing little ones. Pour yourself a cup of coffee, visit the site, wander the path ... and be amazed.

Courage

2009-03-29T23:55:00.014-05:00

Truly, through God all things consist, all things are held together. How
else could this be? In our humanity and all of its weakness, there is love
and life rushes forth, we're o.k., and you are moving on in spite of it
all. In spite of our doubts and concerns, hardships and fears, there
is love. There is laughter. Trust and faith. Mending and growth. I am ever so
thankful to God for everything, for you.

So much I want to express at this moment, but my heart has wrapped it in a downy blanket, holding it close. Stillness is best, for you know that I love you. How much more I had wanted for you, for us on this journey. I feel your courage in moving onward as we tow these boxes across this unexpected blanket of snow. Two ordinaries, in the land of the ordinaries, the world unaware of the extraordinary threshold just crossed.

There's been no time to weep or mourn or rejoice or rest on this journey, only humility and acceptance carried quietly within, observing more than could ever be spoken ...

but, "What I want to say is
that the past is the past,
and the present is what your life is,
and you are capable
of choosing what that will be,
darling citizen.

So come to the pond,
or the river of your imagination,
or the harbor of your longing,
and put your lips to the world

And live

your life."

-- excerpt from Mornings at Blackwater by Mary Oliver. Maggie Doyne's post reminded me of this beautiful poem.

Moving Day

2009-03-28T23:57:00.001-05:00

Moving day. March 28th. Who would have guessed?

But What Does It Mean, Sara Lee?

2009-01-10T11:14:00.012-06:00

Saturday morning bonus post.

Doors left unlocked. TP holders empty. Dishes left out. Gloves left behind. Cell phones lost. Clothes everywhere they shouldn't be. Tiny electronic parts ... parted. Ahhh, but Sara Lee, she is something special to you-know-who. Nary a twistie left untwisted.

Minimum 24 twists required ... in the right direction. No, it only looks like that's the right direction. Go the other way. Now you have 48 twists to go. At 6:30 a.m. Vision blurred. Reading glasses entangled in hair. Coordination skills and patience still waiting for coffee.

Who needs toast anyway? I'm switching to oatmeal.

Opening the Window

2009-01-08T05:18:00.049-06:00

Opening the window a little this morning to offer a glimpse of rainy days in the recent past. To share our experiences however vulnerable it makes us. To ask for prayers and compassion. Please overlook that these words are flying off the keyboard. Le mot juste just isn't in me today. I read a heart opening post by Brené Brown yesterday of Ordinary Courage, and this shared wisdom wrestled with my soul throughout the night, "... we have excellent data that show that shame increases addictive behaviors. The more shame we feel, the more we do to numb it." I wept. Because it validated much of the pain we encounter here at home. I'll try to share this in general terms, through my personal observation.

Some carry a crushing burden of shame throughout their lives. They are so desperate for love and relief from the pain that everything begins to boil over into random and bizarre displays of behavior and emotion. In the most unfortunate way, these random displays bring more shame and rejection, requiring stronger and stronger doses of whatever numbs the pain for that person. Consider the difficulty of the situation for those who live with special challenges, limiting their ability to cope. The drug of choice may not even make any sense to others on the outside.

The energy created from this "addiction" vortex can build until it is so powerful, the poor soul at the center of it can no longer harness it, and is utterly sucked in and carried away emotionally somewhere so withdrawn that few if any dare to traverse that dark place with a life line. Going in means you will not come out the same. You will take on a good portion of the burden and the painful shame. You will cripple a wing on the way down.

Among other self-destructive pain management methods, some attempt running away, further and further distances each time because surely there's a place with no pain. Surely it can be outrun. The euphoria over a fresh start just beyond the horizon is a distraction from the pain as well as the frustrating inability to cope with it. The hope -- of a new life, a new town, new people who know nothing of the shame, the rejection, the methods of numbing the pain -- is too intoxicating to resist.

All too soon, the euphoria fades when you find that you are all alone, too afraid to call for help, fearing more shame and judgment, hopeless that things will ever be made right again. You wander around for days, riding the city bus for warmth, begging for food at Denny's, sleeping in an abandoned building. This is still more comfortable than the pain of your own abandonment issues that have crept into town, having found you again, crawling up over your shoulder as you sleep on the bus. Preying upon all your doubts and fears. If you keep going, maybe you can outrun it no matter how exhausted and hungry you are.

You finally break under the stress of your own torment. Tears flow wild and hard as you cover your eyes with the palms of your hands. In a panic, you are back on foot, wandering aimlessly in the cold night in a strange city, vulnerable to predators. You don't care anymore. It hurts too much yet you can't feel a thing. In the light of dawn, your mind races for home. Your real home of long ago. Not all of these countless other places. You ponder on what defines this particular home that you keep running towards, and why it causes such excruciating pain:

"You take two bodies and you twirl them into one
Their hearts and their bones
And they won't come undone"
-- lyrics by Paul Simon, Hearts and Bones

You can't come undone and disappear no matter how hard you try. Those who brought you into this world can't undo you through a divorce decree, chaos, confusion, rejection and numbing silence. Your bones twirled of their bones, your hearts forever intertwined. You want to disengage yourself from the madness fueled by their rejection, but your father runs through your veins. Your mother is in the mirror. Your heart is in pieces. Your mind is gone. Your spirit broken. And yet, you are still standing alone to face what's left of yourself.

You can't resolve it because they've skipped out so you can't confront them, hurl your angry bitterness at them ... and work down to the love you've kept carefully wrapped all these years in the most beautiful and tattered gift box. You wonder how much longer you can carry it with you through the battlefield of your mind.

In mad desperation as exhaustion takes its toll, you once again, as you have done so many times, migrate to the security and safety of an emergency room. A simple bed. Routine and unconditional attention. Escape to sleep for one sacred day. Shielded from the world, its harsh elements that have worn you down in an angry, bitter defeat. Surely you will wake up to everyone by your side, victorious.

Then the thought of anyone loving you after rejecting you for so long rouses your anger. How dare anyone love you after all of this running, all of this distance, carrying that damn gift … what took them so long? Without warning, your fist goes flying through the closed door. You scream in agony. Not over your mangled hand, but over the mysterious origin that gave impetus to the outburst. You curl up in fetal position, and sob so hard that you cannot be consoled. You sob so hard that you don't feel anything.

All during this event, I was here on the other side, quietly consoling you hundreds of miles away. Paralyzed with heartbreak over almost losing you again. You couldn't hear me, even if I were right beside you. What your ears hear, your heart rejects. I spoke as if you were here, "Close your eyes, my dear one, and rest. I've learned to tread lightly, neutral and cautious, wary of the juggernaut that connects us. Your shame is not of your doing. I'm on my way and soon we'll be together."

My crippled wing and your broken heart.

"How dare anything separate us after all of this running, all of this distance through the battlefields of your heart?"

A glimpse through the window of two ordinary lives.

Editor's Note: Our circumstance is challenging to say the least, but this and this are evidence that it's all been worth it. We're on the right track. I cherish these precious notes - tender expressions of love, connection, and happiness. I shared this post to give other parents, guardians and caregivers hope.

Photographer and credits for window photo unknown; will keep looking. Other photo is the real deal, from my desk, our real everyday world.

Knight Rider ... Returns?

2009-01-07T06:17:00.014-06:00

Found on my bedroom door this morning. I checked. He's still here.

Oh no. Oh no part deux.

Happy Wednesday!

Ps. Click photos to enlarge. They are blurry, aren't they? Well, it was 6:00 a.m. Before coffee. Heart fluttering even after discovering he was still safely in bed and hadn't run out in the middle of the night to talk to mini moped man. You know, because who doesn't negotiate mini moped sales at 3:00 a.m.?

Divine Will

2009-01-04T21:02:00.012-06:00

It's written in the clouds: keep blogging.

Mother Nature's prose penned across her blueboard of sky. Does anyone translate cloud? I think she wants to overwhelm you with your own beauty. Inspire you to greatness of heart. Gift you with extraordinary creativity.

May all of this & more be yours this year.

Happy New Year.

karen

Persona Grata

2008-12-29T15:51:00.007-06:00

It's Only a Flesh Wound

2008-12-28T17:13:00.022-06:00

This is a photo. Of me. Christmas day. Overtaken by cabin fever, my good buddy is dragging me out of the apartment, looking for a suitable place to air out my flu stench and perk up my clammy pallor in the unexpected near 70 degrees and sunshine. We've been invited to Christmas dinner and WE'RE GOING one way or another. My crusty eyes rolled back in my head at the first hint of sunlight. Flu vapors wilted my already severe case of bed head as my atrophied body bumped along the sidewalk. I cracked open my dehydrated mouth with the reluctance of an old grimy barnacle being pried from its choice spot under a rock. I then realized my brain could not yet produce a coherent thought, so I shut my yap and pondered on how a little Revlon was going to doll this baby up for dinner.

But seriously, flu ... damn you ... I am truly sorry for taunting you a week or so ago. I perhaps offended you during phase one. You were just warming up when I arrogantly exclaimed like the one-limbed knight in Monty Python's Holy Grail, "... it's only a flesh wound, you ninny!" Ah ha! I'm back! Good as new!

Feeling overly confident that a few aches and sniffles were the worst wallops you could pack, I foolishly bragged that I had the immune system of a super heroine. Full of sincere remorse a day later, lying under a mountain of used tissues, the contour of my shivering body permanently molded into the mattress, I thought of the times I pirouetted in glee as co-workers, friends and family succumbed to your devious methods while I tiptoed through flu season unscathed. Oh but you were waiting, weren't you?

Well, I'll have you know that I rather enjoy lettuce sandwiches, the only thing I've been able to eat being that water is much too rich and creamy for my delicate system. You've boosted my immune system for years to come! Because of you, I have circumvented the 12-step program required to break my 15-year addiction to coffee! I now have a marked disdain for lattes, that being the last delicious thing I consumed before you arrived. No need to start a colon cleanse & finish my year end fast, and my skin appreciated the break from cleansers and make-up. My waistline is 3 inches smaller. Coughing uncontrollably every three minutes? Better than an Abs of Steel workout. See, you are wonderful! Happy New Year to me!

So, your work here is done. You've over-stayed your welcome. It's time to pack it up and move on before Spring arrives, o.k.? It may have to wait until January, but I am still finishing my special Christmas post, you rat!

Editor's Note: Grinch image found here. "A production cell from the 1966 Dr. Seuss classic How the Grinch Stole Christmas, directed by Chuck Jones." Does anyone know why the Grinch has such an aversion to underwear? I mean, really. Why wear a jacket if not matching skivvies?

In the Blink of an Eye

2008-12-15T00:20:00.008-06:00

Maggie Doyne & Deepak

"I believe that in the blink of an eye, we can all make a difference." -- Maggie Doyne, founder of BlinkNow.

Listen to your heart, counsels the soulful Jen Lemen. I've not had the good fortune of meeting her, but her blog is a frequent destination of mine. Rest your heart there awhile, bask in the goodness of the community drawn to her, and connect to her giving spirit. It's quite contagious. Caution: you may be stirred to action.

Last week, Jen Lemen introduced another wonder heart, Maggie Doyne. Maggie is a humanitarian and activist phenom, one who listened to her heart at a young age, and that act led her to Nepal where she built the Kopila Valley Children's Home.

Cozy up near the hearth of her endearing online journal, and prepare to have your heart melt. You will smile. You may even sponsor a child. We did! It was that quick. We emailed Maggie, and she responded to us right away. A few questions and answers were exchanged, and in the blink of an eye, lives changed.

We've spent the weekend learning about Maggie, BlinkNow, the Kopila Valley Children's Home, Nepal, and a little about precious Deepak. There's been a flurry of excitement over what to send him. Our research revealed that his name means, "lamp," or "light." I believe the red paste on his forehead is called a Tika and is part of a local religious custom. We've lost track of time and have long forgotten the ice that's been covering the city since sunset ...

Blink. Love changes everything.

karen

For a map & facts about Nepal, go here. Or here is even better, good o' Wikipedia.

A Change of Heart

2008-12-13T17:22:00.025-06:00

... just a random snapshot from the end of summer. My sister's "baby" goldfish.

Announcing a couple of changes. The Art of Heart is now a little over 6 months old -- my first post was May 31st. At that time, we couldn't have imagined the beautiful friendships and connections that would be made through this portal. Treasured friends and connections to amazing women, opportunities to help others in need, and much, much kindness flowing towards us. We continue to receive heartwarming, soulful hope notes and cards that brighten our lives. We cherish each one.

We have discovered so many other projects that we want to participate in - through micro-giving and other labors of love - that we've decided to discontinue the Smile Fund. We feel certain that this special need will be filled in other ways in the future. We don't know how, but the timing just isn't right. Plus, the cost grows as we discover all that needs to be done. We find so many others with far greater needs than ours.

So, closing the Smile Fund is one change. Another, as you may have noticed, is that there are no more billboards along the highway -- the ads are gone. The Art of Heart is going in another direction, and a professional ad campaign doesn't fit the landscape. If anyone wants to know how to apply to the Blogher Ads Network, I'll be happy to send you in the right direction.

Let me know your thoughts on these changes. xo

karen

Inspired

2008-12-09T23:22:00.012-06:00

Perhaps a bit Little Shop of Horrors-esque? Reincarnation of Sarah Jessica Parker's haute couture chapeau?

Well, I couldn't resist those big, vibrant magnolia leaves! Everything on this wreath except the feathers came from my nature walk in the country on Sunday. So glad I did this because winter has arrived in T-town. Cold, windy with rain & sleet today. Bluh. But, we have this great wreath to welcome us home! And it's courtesy of Mother Nature, as in ... free. That qualifies this post for Bossy's Poverty Party!

Seeing so many great posts lately on homemade Christmas decorations and other holiday swag, I felt ... inspired. Sunday was a gorgeous day, I had a couple of hours to myself which is a rare treat. I gathered fragrant cuttings from cedars and spruce trees, magnolia buds, golden grasses, bright berries and mistletoe. I picked up my good buddy on the way home, and he was impressed with all the treasure stowed in the trunk. Later, we used some wire to bind small sprays together, then wired these onto a recycled grapevine wreath.

I dismantled the old wreath that's been on the front door for nearly three years. Any welcoming qualities had expired some time ago. I apologized to the mama spiders and other tiny critters who thought they'd hit the jackpot for cozy winter lodging, their intricate webs and cocoons disturbed and undone. Finally, it was time to fit Cinderella for the ball.

So without spending a dime, we now have this fragrant, welcoming beauty on our apartment door. Definitely sparks the Christmas spirit, don't you think?

If you have a post of your Christmas cheer or any holiday savings tips, feel free to share a link in the comments below!

karen
_ _ _

Join other amazing women. Help rebuild Esteria's home. Kelly Rae is still taking donations. They've started making the bricks for the house! Over US$4,000 raised so far!

Thankful Before & After

2008-12-06T00:06:00.009-06:00

Thanksgiving dinner. Before & after. Leftovers are a beautiful thing, no?

Is this the latest Thanksgiving post ever?! That's pretty much how we roll around here ;). On Thanksgiving, we were treated like royalty, as always. Greeted with the warmest embraces, glasses filled with good wines, hearts overflowing with laughter, all around this gorgeous table setting courtesy of my beautiful soul sister, the best brother-in-law in the world and their precious daughter (a/k/a The Bartender). She's grown and living on her own, that fabulous sweetie pie. All of them are so so generous to us always and in all ways. We made our way out to their home in the country with great anticipation of resting our weary souls in their oceans of generosity. And did we ever. And was it ever.

Homemade pies, prime rib, bacon-wrapped turkey smoked to perfection and delicious side dishes. Wine and drinks flowing ... it's a rule in our family that an open bar must be available at all family gatherings. Because. You never know. Who's. Showing. Up. Plus it aids in recovering from turkey coma, or at least eases the pain of turkey coma. Liquor and turkey coma ... it's a delicate balance. Moving on ...

The evening prior to the big dinner, I open my email at home to this message from dear soul sister. Keep in mind she is NOT an amateur when it comes to hosting big dinners:

"... We’re going over the drink inventory while on the phone and as I’m thinking out loud, I remember that I need to thaw the bacon which is in the freezer in the garage. Mind you, our fridge is full of thawing meats. I am still talking ... and I step out into the garage and yank open the freezer door. Much to my amazement, I see a TURKEY. Nicely FROZEN. At this time I forget about the bacon ... it's 6:00 p.m. the evening before Thanksgiving and I have a frozen turkey! I grab it and head to the kitchen sink, quickly filling it with cold water and the turkey and the bacon. Hubby makes it to the kitchen. 'Oh, Sweetie, we have a problem.' Looking at the frozen turkey in the sink and then looking at me in amazement. 'Oh no.' We both just stare at each other. We've had a CHICKEN thawing in the fridge!"

Her message goes on about the frantic journey they made into town in search of a thawed turkey, and how that threw the schedule way off for the rest of the preparations. Then how it would all work out, and we would fill our wine glasses and celebrate being together. She ended her email thinking not of herself but rather, "Have sweet dreams and we'll see you tomorrow!"

We are so thankful to God for my lovely sister, her husband (who puts up with all of us and our crazy antics), The Bartender, and all the blessings they continually bestow upon us. They work incredibly hard and give generously. I'll share with you that they have rescued us many, many times when our journey has taken us into difficult territories.

Thankful. Before & after. During & in between. Our love & thanks to you,

karen

Ps. Reminder to self: Send letter to major "protein producers" here & abroad. Could it be that tinkering with genetics has possibly run amok when chickens are easily mistaken for turkeys? If I ever need a chicken that big, well, I'll just buy two, o.k.? Big bird isn't real. Please don't piss off Mother Nature any more than she already is.
_ _ _

Join other amazing women. Help rebuild Esteria's home. Kelly Rae is still taking donations. Give to those most in need during this season of giving. Thank you!

Thanksgiving: Proper Attire Required

2008-12-06T00:00:00.004-06:00

O.k., this is my last Thanksgiving post since the first week of December is almost behind us. This lovely thing would be my niece (a/k/a The Bartender). Photo taken by another dinner guest who passed through home security with her iPhone. Hey, they let a blogger through, why not an iPhone?? A bribe later, the photo is mine ... heh heh. I may have to remove this post if Bartender ups the ante. Let's just say she's got "some stuff" on me. Isn't she precious? Love her, love her.

We hope that first-time dinner guest returns. She is really cool ... and she has an iPhone. We don't come with a warning label but I think she survived.

That's my sister's arm in the background. She's over the sink. Working. What are we doing? Taking pictures of our armpits.

The Gift of Calories

2008-12-05T07:00:00.011-06:00

Making holiday gifts this year? Thought I would share links to some of my favorite and most requested treats that are hidden in the archives. It's about time to start baking!

Who wouldn't melt over a basket of homemade cinnamon rolls? They would make a one-of-a-kind, inexpensive gift to give. Look at the slideshows to see if it's a project you want to take on ... you can do it!

How about apple pie? It's always a crowd-pleaser. Everybody has a special pastry recipe ... what's your "secret" ingredient? Mine is white vinegar ... not kidding.

One more ... here's an addictive little crumpet that is deliciously sweet, ginger-y good with a surprisingly spicy cayenne kick. You've gotta try dragon snaps ... wrap 'em up fast before they disappear!

What are your favorite goodies to gift (or eat!) at Christmas? Leave links in the comments to your recipes if you want!

Hope your holiday season is full of peace & harmony. Our love to you,

karen

Ps. If you have any questions or need help with these recipes, please contact me at theartofheart@cox.net
_ _ _

This event is now closed: Join other amazing women. Help rebuild Esteria's home. Kelly Rae is still taking donations. Give to those most in need during this season of giving. Thank you!

Introducing Julia

2008-12-02T08:00:00.006-06:00

Photos courtesy of Beech & Olive (Gabian, France)

Oh aren't these scarves scrumptious? These would take me away to another place - a winery in the south of France near the end of harvest, as another Indian summer gives way to brisk winter winds. An embrace of the finest fabrics uniquely and lovingly mastercrafted by Julia into a treasured wardrobe piece.

I am one of many souls to have the good fortune of being on the receiving end of Julia's generous heart. That's how our paths crossed. I sent a call out to the blog universe for hope notes, and she responded with beautiful letters and cards filled with words that lifted a life in need. (I'll post an update soon on hope notes. So much to tell you ... there is much kindness out there, my friends. We are humbled by the beautiful letters and cards we receive. Thank you!)

It would be a considerable task for anyone to describe Julia's life. You'll just have to walk that lovely nature path on your own and make your own discoveries. A German transplanted in the south of France on a rustic winery with her husband and the "wine boys." She is an accomplished freelance illustrator. She knits. She sews. She blogs. She lives among the hairy fairies of Gabian. Her humor will lift your spirits and melt your heart. So, go discover this wonderful bloggess and take a nature walk among the vineyards of her country estate:

Julia's Daily Advent Giveaways - now through Christmas. Join the fun and share your witty repartee. Daily? Yes, she's just that way ... generous.

A beautiful blog, Lineanongrata. My nature walk began about here.

Lineanongrata, the Etsy Shop, filled with her whimsical illustrations.

... and introducing her newest line, Beech & Olive, from where those exquisite scarves above come. Have any holiday shopping left? Order now to allow time for shipping. Wrap a little reminder of your nature walk in the south of France around your neck ... a warm hug from Julia.

Which illustration or scarf is your favorite?

Honest Scrap

2008-11-26T00:04:00.023-06:00

Julia from Lineanongrata kindly presented me with the Honest Scrap Award. I’m just glad it wasn’t the Honest Crap Award. Ba da bing, ba da bing. Hello? Is this thing on < tap tap >? Please, hold your applause … I’m performing here all week.

Wow. It feels nice to receive an award. Thank you to Julia, who by the way is a talented, lovely soul and a great blogger. I encourage you to visit her place, too ... and her new shop, Beech & Olive.

Honest Scrap Award Rules:

When accepting this auspicious award, you must write a post bragging about it, including the name of the misguided soul who thinks you deserve such acclaim, and link back to said person so everyone knows he or she is real. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have 7 friends. (I’m brilliant! Did you, my 3 readers, see that??) Show the 7 random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with “Honest Weblog.” Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon. List at least ten honest things about yourself. Then, pass it on!

Ten Honest Reasons to Run for the Nearest Exit

1. I’m an incurable night owl. My timing has always been off. I'm told that I was born well before my due date, and that’s the closest I have ever come to being on time. I have carried this into my adult life ... the not on time thing ... as in late. I'm sure it all goes back somehow to that whole being born thing ... it can't possibly be my fault.

2. Surprise, surprise … I am not a morning person. Secretly, however, I would like to be one and sometimes sneak out very early for a latte to see what all the fuss is about. Life requires me to be out and about early, but I don’t enjoy crawling out of my cozy comforter cocoon to greet the day.

3. I am a think tank. I love to tinker with ideas and projects until I suppose I could possibly suck all of the fun out of it for anyone else involved. I am highly organized yet highly creative – so I drive both left and right brainers equally insane. I’m very giving of my shortcomings and try not to leave anyone out … ;)

4. I cheer for the underdog. I can’t stand to see injustice and will jump in the fray in a heartbeat.

5. I grew up in the country, exploring forests, fields, ponds and rivers. Everything amazed me. I loved to fish with my dad and considered myself a "rock hound." I wouldn't trade it for anything. I've lived many lives and have gained many perspectives ... I'll leave it there.

6. I love lattes and lipstick. Can I say that? Two frivolous must haves, if I must. Nothing like the perfect latte to welcome the day even if I make it at home. Fabulous lipstick is my other luxury - a rare one these days. Wine when I can splurge on a good bottle. Would have a glass every evening if I could!

7. I prefer humor to whining or crying. I rather laugh and make others laugh. I was often the clown of the family. Friends would tell you that I can "get my arms around just about anything." Placing compassion and understanding over judgment. I can be easily taken advantage of.

8. I miss Peanut and I’m still sad over her passing in September. She held a special place in my life for many years. She filled up all the inbetween time of life with her crazy antics. We’re still off a beat around here without her.

9. I’m single. Right now, I have no energy for a relationship (oy, what I don’t blog, my friends …). Is that the definition of giving up? Throwing in the towel? My list of what I think I need to be overwhelms me, so I never open my heart to the possibility of love. Not many available men in my circles either. So many excuses … shame on me.

10. I believe God. Every word he has revealed to us through scripture. I hesitated to state this because many misunderstand scripture or lift phrases out of context. The bible is fascinating – it cannot be exhausted in one’s lifetime. It is the progressive unfolding of God’s plan, the progressive revelation of his character. It’s important to approach the bible chronologically – from beginning to end.

I award the following wunderblogs the Honest Scrap Award:

A Daisy A Day
Thoughts from Miller Manor
Tales from Bloggeritaville
Confessions of a Psychotic Housewife
CindyDianne
This Plate is Full
Heidi @ GGIP

They don't even know it yet ... heh heh. To anyone reading this post, share 5 or more honest things about yourself ... would love to get to know you better!
_ _ _

Join other amazing women. Help rebuild Esteria's home. Thank you!

The House that Love is Building

2008-11-24T23:30:00.030-06:00

Esteria's Home in Rwanda, photo courtesy of Jen Lemen

I want something. It's Thanksgiving. The time is perfect. How often does anyone hear me shout out loud that I want something? Because if you go outside right now, I bet you can hear me calling your name! I was visiting the great Kelly Rae Robert's blog tonight, and she has a project for us.

Through small donations, we're going to help Kelly Rae help Jen Lemen help Odette help her beautiful mother, Esteria (Esther), build a home.

Oh. yes. we. are.

That something I want? It's this: Imagine your hands. My hands. Your friends' hands. Kelly Rae's hands. Jen Lemen's hands ... laying a strong foundation, mortar and walls with the funds we raise together. Windows and colorful doors. A strong, storm-resistant, protective roof. Kitchen and cabinets. All the beautiful things you want this extraordinary woman to possess. Dream it. Dream big. Give to your heart's content.

I'm not letting go of this. We're not letting go of this.

I want to load my arms with bricks and mortar and trowel and go there tonight. Those of you reading this who know me, know how serious I am. Nothing can stop us. That home is already in the making in our hearts. Be a part of this. It's happening right now.

Can you imagine a better way to give?

I'll see you on the other side of this project -- we'll celebrate with tears of joy in our eyes as Esteria steps across the threshold of the house that love built. Our love.

TO DONATE, GO HERE. The donate button is at the bottom of Kelly Rae's post.

We're looking for A LOT of people with big hearts to each give only a little. Buy one less roll of gift wrap this year, and instead give that $5 to Esteria.

Pass this on to everyone you know. Link to this. Link to Kelly Rae. Link to Jen Lemen. Blog it. Do that wonderful thing you do so well: giving from your hearts of gold.

Love has no boundaries.

karen

If you need help linking to this post, just contact me at theartofheart (at) cox (dot) net. Spread the word! Thank you!

Our Love to Odette

2008-11-12T07:23:00.011-06:00

Join Odette on her amazing journey. Pass it on.

Love. Elevates. Lives.

karen

A song about Rwanda by Sara Groves: I Saw What I Saw

Editor's Note: Video courtesy of YouTube.

Mama Shoes

2008-11-09T20:16:00.012-06:00

As a follow up to my earlier post, these are mama shoes. These are the shoes of a woman who has lost herself.

My mother wore mama shoes for many years. I remember the day I noticed them - I was maybe 10 years old - the same tattered, plain shoes she mindlessly slipped on everyday, regardless of the occasion. Now I understand what it is to be lost amid the never-ending agenda of both home and work offices, laundry, cleaning, cooking, unexpected calamities, grocery shopping, bills, mail, mountains of paperwork, budgets, taxes, banking, car repairs, appointments, shuttle service, all around caregiver ... the mundane, unacknowledged and mostly unappreciated background of the life of motherhood (I earned the "m" last week, believe me). These duties are only the backdrop to the many other roles and events that nurture and prepare the next generation.

In almost militant fashion for the last few years, I have strapped on these shoes while the needs of the day rush through my mind. In a second, I am off and running toward the finish line of the next 24 hours.

Are you wearing mama shoes these days? Trust me, you look absolutely stunning.

Love endures,

karen

The Long Way Home

2008-11-09T18:24:00.020-06:00

As election lines formed on November 4th, our flight was en route from Albuquerque of all places. Soon after our flight touched down, I made my way to the local voting polls - entering the voting booth in the grip of advanced sleep deprivation, in the same clothes and worn out expression as the day before, weary and tearful eyes, looking down at my "mama" shoes and wondering how much longer they will last at this pace.

Mama shoes have carried me places I never thought I'd survive - through poverty and great challenges, beyond the outskirts of my own identity and abilities, soaked in storms and disappointments, recently along the roads of Albuquerque on borrowed funds, and now in a voting booth on a crisp, new page of history in the making.

The words are few these days, my friends. All I know is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Pray that this young man finds his way in life despite his heavy burdens.

With much love,

karen

Rediscover the Lost Art of Cinnamon Rolls

2008-10-27T08:06:00.014-05:00

These look like art, don't they? I took this photo yesterday while preparing for this post. I've been asked many times how I make cinnamon rolls. It seems to have become a lost art. Care to join me for an art class today?

Before we get started, I must confess something that I attempt to hide from the camera: I have an ugly kitchen. No granite countertops. No stainless steel stove top or copper ventilator hood. No slate floors. I try to edit it out, but there's no hope. I love my ugly kitchen so please overlook the drab surroundings - it has a kind heart ... ;) Without further ado:

karen's Cinnamon Rolls

Basic Sweet Bread:

1 envelope dry yeast (1/4 oz.)
1 cup milk, warm
6 T sugar
2 ½ teas. salt
2 eggs, beaten
6 T vegetable oil
4 cups bread flour

Check expiration date on yeast and be sure it has been stored in a cool place. Pour warm milk in large bowl. Add yeast, 2 T sugar, and 2 T flour. Mix and set aside for about 10 minutes to be sure yeast is active before continuing. Then add remaining 4 T sugar, salt, beaten eggs, and oil. Stir to mix. Add 2 cups flour and mix with a whisk. Add 2 more cups flour, whisk center, then fold with large spatula to form dough ball. If a little more flour is needed, add it. Usually 4 cups is just right.

Generously sprinkle flour on counter. Place dough on top. Knead with a rolling pin until elastic – will fold and knead several times. When ready, roll into ball, pat with oil and place in large bowl to rise. Loosely place plastic wrap on top. Depending on various factors, dough may take 1 to 8 hours to rise. Let rise about 3+ times original size. Tip: I wouldn’t recommend adding cinnamon to the dough because some spices can inhibit the yeast. Tip: Make dough before bedtime, and let rise overnight. Then finish process the next morning.

Once dough has risen, gently punch down and place on well floured counter. Sprinkle top of dough with flour. Knead twice then roll/shape into large rectangle about 3/8” thick. Tip: If you knead too much, dough will become elastic again and you will have to let it rise once more. Tip: Some allow dough to rise twice before making into cinnamon rolls, and feel free to do this. I think it makes the dough taste too yeast-y, and it makes the process so so long. I also don't find any significant difference in the texture of the bread by letting the dough rise twice. Maybe with other bread recipes - do you know why some suggest this? Tip: If you roll the dough too thin, rolls will not rise properly or won't rise at all.

Now it’s ready for the filling:

Filling

1 stick butter, melted and cooled (liquid)
1 1/4 cups brown sugar
2-3 t cinnamon
Optional: Pecans, Raisins, or Apple Slices

Melt butter to liquid stage being careful not to overheat it. Add cinnamon and stir. Spread onto dough from the center outward to edges. Then sprinkle brown sugar evenly over the dough, using more or less to your liking. Now sprinkle on any optional items to your liking – chopped pecans, raisins, applesauce, apple slices or only the butter-cinnamon-sugar is wonderful, too.

Starting at the bottom, begin to roll dough up. Rub off excess flour from the bottom as you go. Slice into 12-16 rolls with large knife. Place in glass baking dish, 9.5” x 14.5” or 10" x 15" (this is what I used in these photos). This larger pan will allow rolls to expand out which is what you want, but the sides will still touch by the time you bake the rolls which again is the goal. Tip: If pan is too small, the center of the rolls will pop up too high and fall over. Just be sure to allow some room for expansion. Tip: If I use pecans, I mix a handful of halved pecans with leftover butter-cinnamon-sugar mix and punch one gently on top of each roll at this point – they are toasty good after baking! Let the rolls rise with plastic wrap placed gently and loosely on top (don't wrap sides of dish or it will hold the rolls down). These can take 2 to 6 hours to rise.

When rolls are ready, gently remove plastic wrap and place in middle of oven (do not preheat oven). Turn temperature to 330-340 degrees and bake for 30 minutes. You don’t want to overcook them. Tip: Remember that they will continue to bake a little after being removed from the oven as well. Just make sure the center roll isn’t goo-ey – if it’s done – they are ready.

Remove from oven, and icing while still warm (don't wait too long or the rolls will dry out!):

Icing

1 stick sweet or salted butter, melted and cooled (liquid)
1/2 t cinnamon
1 t vanilla
1/3 c milk
2/3 to 1 c confectioner’s sugar
1/8 t salt (use even if butter is salted)

Optional flavors: add 1 t maple extract, orange marmalade, or even a shot of espresso or coffee extract to icing! Also, add 4oz of softened cream cheese if you want a richer icing.

Icing is tricky. It should have the right balance of sugar and butter so as not to harden to a white, hard coating after it cools. I heat room temperature butter in the microwave just enough to melt it (20-30 seconds). Add 1/2 t cinnamon, 1 t vanilla, and salt. Then 1/3 cup milk. Then while mixing with the mixer, add confectioner's sugar until a nice icing forms. If you brush it on rather than drizzle it, you will again use less butter. But who's counting calories? We're talking cinnamon rolls here ... ;)

Tip: Best to store rolls after they are cooled in an airtight container. Bread easily dries out. These won't be in storage long!

Homemade cinnamon rolls make memorable Christmas gifts, and although the process is time-consuming (but you don't have to be in the kitchen through it all), these are inexpensive to make. They also freeze well and reheat in the microwave to a goo-ey irresistible perfection!

Now watch ‘em disappear! Enjoy! Let me know what you think if you bake these. I have been making these for over < gulp > 20 years.

Caloric intake from viewing this post: 1,500

Update 1/1/2012: Listen, friends, I can't hold this back. I tried The Pioneer Woman's Cinnamon Rolls in December. Made at least 3 batches. Every bit as delicious as she claims them to be. Clever technique, too. Way faster, more rolls per batch, and no kneading. Maple and coffee icing. Recipe is posted on her site and in her 1st cookbook. Can't help but pass this along. I concede defeat. :)

The Carnival's Come to Town!

2008-10-27T07:55:00.014-05:00

Update 11-6-2008: The winner of this drawing is Leigh! She chose card & envelope No. 10 from my Etsy shop. Please visit her wonderful blogs, too. Congrats, Leigh! ---

Update 11-5-2008: The drawing for this giveaway has been delayed until tonight due to a family emergency over the weekend. Entries made through 11:59 p.m. on Friday, October 31, 2008 will be considered. Go here to read about the last bloggy giveaway winner if you are interested. Sorry for the delay this time and thank you to all who participated! ---

Welcome to the festivities, carnival revelers! I've missed you since the summer. Please, step inside the tent and look around at the many booths. Over there, you'll find fire-breathing Dragon Snaps! And there, Cinnamon Rolls and Apple Pie. Pay no mind to those pesky rumors, all carnival food here meets health codes, so no fears. Oh, and this way to Hope Notes.

Ahh, I see, you are looking for prizes. Enough touring. Come then, follow me through the musty catacombs beneath this tent, and I'll show you what can be yours. All that you must do to enter the drawing for your choice of one of my handmade beaded cards with a matching envelope, my masked revelers, is leave a comment on this post. No coin tosses, side show games or other trickery. Now, go through this door to see what you could win -- it's Winner's Choice! Look at the many prizes from which the lucky reveler may choose one! Tell all of your friends to come by.

Be sure to stop by the other tents before you leave the carnival. When you are ready to leave my place, just click the beautiful pink package below, and you'll be whisked away to many other festivities. Now hurry, see the many sights before the carnival leaves town.

Oh, what am I, you ask? I am an Other behind this mask. What is my story? Go here if you must know.

Thank you for visiting my tent! Good-bye merrymaking revelers. Enjoy the carnival!

Remember these things before you go:

1. Please don't drink & blog ... ;)

2. One entry per person.

3. Leave an e-mail address at the end of your comment so I can contact you. Please remember to do this! ... and you don't have to be a blogger to participate.

4. Giveaway ends on October 31, 2008 upon the strike of midnight.

5. Winner will have 24 hours to confirm after I email notification; another winner will be selected if no reply is received.

6. Please note that I will cover the cost of shipping within the United States only.

7. Winner's Choice means the winner may choose one (1) card & matching envelope set from those in my Etsy shop designated for this giveaway. Retail value US$20.

Editor's Note: Vintage poster digital art found here.

An Other's Love

2008-10-22T22:20:00.011-05:00

An Other's Love

I am not your father.
I am not your mother.
Neither, yet both.
I am your other.

Your friend,
Your provider.
Spiritual guide,
And taxi driver.

Mentor and life coach.
Therapist and comedienne.
Whatever it takes, I’ll offer.
Again and again and again.

... and you may not understand nor appreciate all of these roles nor my sacrifices, but that is not really your place -- remember this. Parenting is not about self-preservation – as in preserving one’s self. It is not about accolades. It’s about preserving the continuation of life through the sharing of mine. Big, bold, grand life. Magnificent life and all the wonder it holds.

And no worries. I look to God for direction, and when your heart is opened to Wisdom, you too will look to Him and not be afraid. He props me up and blesses me with testing, tribulation, poverty and abundance – so that I well know the difference between Good and evil, and grow in wisdom and faith. The world can have the worthless chaff of the wheat thinking it has stolen my riches unto itself, but God holds the kernel of gold. I do not fear the race I must run, young one, nor should you.

In the smallness of our days, in our many weaknesses and in our abundance, we run our race. I am a more experienced runner who knows to lean into God boldly, and you are but a beginner. Watch me while I am strong and youth has not yet departed me. I have carried you, your past having consumed and injured you. Now put your feet down, young heart, and follow me a short while. Your running is your beauty. You are not to look behind, but instinctively ahead. Soon, you will be beyond reach of the stones your past hurls at you. Shield yourself with forgiveness, and keep going.

Be ever mindful of the day that you will surpass me, your footing strong and sure. Then I will know that I have run a good race, and your pulling ahead will be your gift to me. In the sunset of my life, I will see in the distance ahead your silhouette among the others of your generation. I will rest knowing that you have found your way, and I will be blessed beyond measure.

Love always,

Your Other

Editor's Note: Photo from his Baccalaureate, May 2008.

Soupe aux Fèves

2008-10-20T00:01:00.017-05:00

Does the economy have images of soup lines from the Great Depression plaguing your thoughts? Cheer up. The economy will get better. This economic downtime may be our ticket to better health. Simplify life and transfer overspending to paying down debt, even when money is tight.

The economic downturn is simply bad timing for a lot of us who have been struggling with high debt long before this latest global financial meltdown. Many of us have been simplifying life and purging poor spending habits for awhile now. My debt situation wasn't caused by bad spending habits, but rather being unprepared for abrupt lifestyle and income changes. Better financial decisions and a more frugal mindset in the distant past during good times, however, would have allowed me to sail comfortably through the turbulent times I face today. Storing up for the unexpected blizzard, so to say, would have been wise. In that regard, how I chose to manage my money long ago came back to haunt me. Today, I do know how to run a tight ship, and can attest that living moderately on much less is possible.

Recently, I joined Bossy’s Poverty Party to proclaim openly that, “My name is Karen. I am a financial loser. I need help.” We’re a community of brave souls who are banning together for support and ideas. Here’s my first contribution to our battle against debt: keep your sense of humor. You will need it.

Next, let’s consider micro-managing our money and household budgets. Look at the small expenditures we make everyday that add up to one heck of a wallop to our budgets. Today, let’s just look at a few food & beverage examples:

Tip No. 1: Starbucks Stings. That daily java jolt may zap your chances of financial turnaround. Those of us in debt of any kind shouldn’t be seen within a ten-mile radius of Starbucks -- or any coffee shop for that matter. Just an innocent grande latte will run a smooth $3.53 including sales tax. Not counting weekends, that daily caffeine hit will drain your annual budget by nearly $918. Add weekends if you’re a hard core addict -- nearly $1,290 a year or $107 per month. Do you look for an open Starbucks on Christmas, my friend? You need a 12-step program. I know, I’ve been there (and the 71st / Memorial store is open Christmas … just sayin’).

Can’t give it up? I understand. Let’s compromise. Consider investing in a $26 Mr. Coffee espresso machine and a $10-15 grinder. Buy a pound of the more moderately priced whole coffee beans in the $10-13 range (Starbucks, etc.) Watch Wally World and other discount chains – their bags of coffee are only 12 oz., not a full pound. Sneaky downsizers have been doing this for years! Also, by using an espresso maker, you make only a cup at a time, not wasting any of the coffee like a traditional 12-cup coffee brewer can.

Moderate at home coffee drinker: $415 per year:

$11.50 for 1 lb of coffee x 26 2-week periods = $299 + sales tax = $324/year
Milk since we’re talkin’ lattes: $3.50 x 26 2-week periods = $91/year
$324 coffee + $91 milk = $415/year

Heavy at home coffee drinker: $831 per year:

$11.50 for 1 lb of coffee x 52 weeks = $598 + sales tax = $649/year
$3.50 gallon milk x 52 weeks = $182/year
$649 coffee + $182 milk = $831/year

Visiting Starbucks once everyday = $1,290 / year
Moderate at home coffee drinker = $415 / year
Savings = $875 / year

Tip No. 2: Brown Bag It. Take your lunch to work. In this part of the U.S., many spend around $7.00 or more on a fast food lunch. That’s conservative. 5 days a week for 50 weeks = $1,750 a year or $146 a month. (Assuming 2 weeks of vacation.) A soda, fried science projects, topped off with a bread product that scares me. We’re bloated, groggy and our waistlines may be the only thing earning interest on this deal.

What if we brought our lunch to work? Genius. Here’s just one example of the savings:

Homemade Cajun Bean Soup – Cost (5 Quarts)

Dried beans $2.22
Beef Sausage $2.82
Onion $0.50
Garlic $0.25
Canned Tomatoes $1.46
Cornbread Mix (2) $0.86
Milk & Eggs $0.85
Sales Tax (Tulsa) $8.96 x .08517
Total $9.72

E-mail me for the recipe. I realize this is a very simple recipe – but trust me, it’s good (sorry that big stewed tomato on top doesn't look super appetizing; maybe it's just me). Besides, the point is simplicity, right? If you added 3 quarts of organic beef stock, asiago cheese, and a fancy pesto … well then we’d have to call it Soupe aux Fèves (au Pisto?), and that wouldn’t fit in our budget! Bean soup, folks. We’re in debt. Bean Soup. Stay with me, now.

5 quarts of savory nutritious bean soup with sausage & cornbread for under $10? Priceless. Enough for 2 weeks. 5 quarts = ten 2-cup servings + cornbread. Beverage of choice? Water. Purified at home for free. Think of the gasoline you save not driving out for lunch, too. Time to maybe take a walk or pay bills, make personal appointments … reducing work-life balance stresses at the office. All good so far, right?

Savor the savings: $9.72 x 25 2-week periods = $243 per year or $20.25 per month. $1,750 per year minimum for fast food compared to $243 a year for a high fiber, well-balanced healthy lunch every day ($1,750 - 243 = $1,507 saved per person per year). Think of the calories saved!! (And no, you won’t be asking the chairman of the board to “pull your finger” at meetings with this mixed bean soup … I bet you are thinking that, aren't you?) There are oodles of brown bag lunch items in this same price range.

Tip No. 3: Moratorium on Eating Out. Figure the savings. You will be astounded. Make it a monthly treat only. (Sorry restaurant owners … you work hard, I know. Tough times call for tough measures. That $35 steak on credit may easily cost me $350 or more by the time I pay off all of my debt.)

Tip No. 4: Ration Non-Water Beverages. Tally up what your family spends in total on liquid consumables – in the home and outside. Sit down first because you may faint. Sodas, coffee, alcohol, bottled water, milk, fruit juices, vitamin waters, powdered mixes, etc. Figure out where you can moderate or eliminate this wasteful spending. Look for an affordable home water purifier that meets your needs if you fear your tap water.

Tip No. 5: Ration or Eliminate Processed Snack Foods. Crackers, potato chips, cookies, cakes, doughnuts, any snack food that isn’t worth its nutritional value. Replace with homemade hummus (more beans, I know …), nuts, apples, fruit or yogurt cups, baked potatoes, roasted ears of corn. Set out a tray of veggies, cantaloupe, low cal dips and maybe cheese on Saturdays to keep the snackin’ healthy and low-cost. I know this seems extreme, but try to cut out food that has become “family entertainment” and replace it with free hobbies and family time – a walk at the park, bike riding, letter writing, reading, news, music, yard work, canning food, gardening – get creative and let everyone in on planning these changes. Tally up your savings together.

Tip No. 6: Fall in Love with Leftovers. Reduce overall food consumption, and recycle leftovers into new meals. Learn to love leftovers. By converting leftovers into more meals – you will save a bundle in money and time. (See Tips 7 and 8 on how to avoid over-consuming food, another big money saver.)

Tip No. 7: Use Smaller Dishware. Start using smaller dishes and glassware like we did – store larger glasses and plates away to avoid any debates with children. Just quietly place in a box and hide them away when everyone is out of the house. I hid all the 16 oz glasses when milk hit $4.00 a gallon earlier this year. Kids tend to fill the glass to the brim when they really only want or need ½ that amount of juice or milk. At meal time, let everyone go back for seconds freely when the first plate is finished. Over time, everyone will adjust to portion control, and be healthier because of it.

Tip No. 8: Three Course Meals. Another way to prevent over-consuming food. There’s wisdom in food courses instead of a buffet style sit down meal. Start with only salad or a light homemade soup before every meal. (You can make enough for 2 weeks ahead of time. Freeze in small portions so you can change up the menu frequently.) Then bring on some dinner rolls and chat about the day. Then serve the main course on smaller plates. More quality time with family – that’s a good thing.

Tip No. 9: Smoking Cessation Plan. Throwing this in for the heck of it. Smokers may spend $14 - $39 / week for a carton of cigs tax included = $728 - $2,028 / per year. This could be an additional $169 a month towards debt reduction. I’ll leave it there. I know this is a tough habit that isn’t easily overcome. If you’re even thinking of quitting, now would be a good time to give it a try. There a numerous free cessation plans through local and state government, your local DHS (research online and call them!), and health insurance plans. Pure gold to your pocketbook. Invaluable to your health.

For many families, these tips could result in $7,000 to $10,000+ savings per year in food and beverage expenditures alone. This doesn’t include cigarettes.

Let’s split that savings opportunity down the middle – take $8,500 in savings and convert that spending to $708 / month to pay down debt. Sweet deal, my friend.

Think about joining Bossy's party today. She's so bossy. You'll love her.

Hope this has been helpful! How are you knocking down debt and surviving this scary economy? I’d love to hear your ideas and strategies!

Ashes & Stones

2008-10-19T19:33:00.015-05:00

When I need to sort through the chaos of my life, I am many times drawn to the murky Arkansas River that runs through our area. I find respite in the tranquil lullaby of currents breaking under the 21st Street Bridge. Emotions continue to stir within me over many things, and this day I so much need to put an injustice to rest. One that I cannot rectify. I must leave it as it stands – unfinished, unjust, an open grave -- in total contradiction to my nature.

Not knowing how to possibly disentangle my soul from it -- my mind, will and emotions deeply entrenched in the grip of bitterness -- I decide to try a new approach. I express my fears, anger and sorrows on paper, to bring them out into the physical realm so I can look injustice in the eye. It exhausts me to bring it to life with words, and in anguish I read it. This injustice has many times pierced and wounded me. My emotional juggernaut tightens its grip one last time as I read through the pages, but I am ready to purge it from my heart. Eviction proceedings have begun.

Then I light a match and watch the papers burn to ashes in the blink of an eye. I feel a glimmer of relief. I take a deep breath, clearing my mind, trying to hang on to this moment of freedom. Down to the river I go to scatter the ashes across her currents, to see if she can quench my bitterness, purify my heart and lead me to the shores of renewal, peace, and a new direction. To see if I can plant forgiveness in soils left barren by bitterness. As is always true with all wonders of nature such as my friend the river, I am reminded to seek counsel from God.

I feel sympathy for the river, her waters murky and densely silt-laden with the ashes of our sorrows, our waste and neglect. Still she sings her soft lullaby. I hold small stones loosely in my hand, each symbolizing a particular wound to the heart. One by one, I let go. Over time, I say to myself, her currents will gently turn these stones of my suffering into beautiful, polished sands beneath someone’s feet. Never to be thrown again. If she can do that, I surely can forgive. God has made a way for us, so why should I hang on to bitterness?

I am moved by how the currents here portray our souls: tranquil and calm broken into a boisterous and rebellious nature. The choice is ours. I am at peace with this portrait, and leave my friend for now. Feeling relieved of my burdens, ready to move forward in a new direction.

What entangles you these days? How do you let go of your emotional burdens or an injustice that has you gritting your teeth with your spirit in upheaval? How do you muster the courage to forgive?

If you need words of kindness, I am here.

Knight Rider - Part Deux

2008-10-14T19:33:00.030-05:00

Dear Journal. Dear, dear Journal. < banging head on desk >

Unfortunately, no one stole the dreadful mini me from the balcony during the night. I can only hope. So the fun continues. He begged and begged for me to buy him some gasoline so he could take his chainsaw on wheels for a spin. That's what it sounds like. A chainsaw. A TINY chainsaw. I think it runs on a watch battery and a thimble of gas.

So, I weigh the pros & cons of tarnishing my already questionable reputation as Other of the Year against allowing him to actually be a real boy, raise a little $#@% now and then, and get his way even when everything is screaming, "Don't do it! You fool!"

The neighbors already think I'm crazy ... but what do they know? They do not parent the Knight Rider. I realize boys need to kick up a little dust on occasion, especially those with unique challenges. Life can get a bit heavy from day to day. Besides, raising a little #$%& is in their genes and they like guns and dirt and motorized stuff. So after much begging and promises, I cave in. Opinions of the neighbors be damned.

With a rush of enthusiasm I haven't seen in months, he washes out a suitable container and we go buy a gallon of gas. I repeat a MILLION times the danger of gasoline - to not let it leak, on and on. "Do you understand? Are you sure? Repeat what I just said back to me. You left out the part about insurance and explosions." I drill to the point I've sucked all the fun out of the project. Every last bit. There WILL. BE. NO. FUN. There will be burning buildings, chaos and NO FUN.

He immediately does what I asked him NOT to do and gets gasoline on the balcony. Other rushing in with HAZMAT team to clean up, trying not to crush moment with the deepening lines across her forehead, holding that one eyebrow down with fading superpowers. Then he rolls leaking mini me over the carpet to the front door and out to the sidewalk. "Honey, is it supposed to do that? Isn't that dangerous if you ride it? You know, like a fire bomb?" I'm ignored. Eyes rolling. "It's supposed to do that," I am tersely informed, no longer a member of the Boys Club. "Oh. Well that seems odd. Dripping gasoline on a hot motor and all. Can't it get on your clothes ...?" His eyes shoot death rays in my direction.

He tries to put gas in again. While I'm finishing the first HAZMAT cleanup on the balcony, I smell MORE gas and walk over to see ANOTHER puddle-quickly-turning-to-lake of gasoline near the front door. I SCREAM the RULES, sucking the absolute LAST teensy weensy drop of FUN out of this %^#@-raising adventure I agreed to. I run with soap and water to wash down the area and wipe down mini me when I realize the neighbors are watching me. Oh joy. The neighbors.

In the end, after much to-do, he finally gets to take it out around the parking lot, which YES NEIGHBORS, I know is NOT allowed in our lovely, sterile, no-fun-or-kids-within-a-five-mile-radius community. GASP. The neighbors once again stare in horror over my parenting skills. I do not care. He needs to have some fun. YES, I know it's totally STUPID and he could get HURT, and if you flick a cigarette over here before HAZMAT cleanup is finished, we may BLOW UP. So go ahead and STARE. Yes, I see that his knees are well above the handle bars, and you can't really even see the bike under him, so he appears to be hydroplaning above the earth after over-consuming a Taco Bell all-you-can-eat special!

Leave us ALONE. We are different. We are aliens from outer space. There. Are you happy? We are happy. He earned that ... that ... that buzzer with wheels and it makes him feel special that he got it on his own. What about BUG OFF do you not understand? I wish I could say we have a close knit community here, but there's a great lack of acceptance and understanding. We love our neighbors. They just don't love us back.

Later, he returns grinning ear to ear. Who could take that away from him? He buzzes by a few times, shouting Hhhhhheeeeeellllllllllloooooo. Zoom zoom.

Knight Rider - The Final Chapter

... we may now close the chapter on mini me. Off he goes one evening for another spin, and I say a brief prayer to God, thanking Him for my little Knight Rider, asking for help and to protect him. Humor aside, I really do worry so so much.

While out, a father with young kids spotted the Knight Rider and offered $75 cash on the spot for the mini motorized migraine. Prayer answered (thank you!). He agreed because it didn't run right anyway. Pretty good day's work. He purchased $25 in soda pop before making it home. Ahhh ... back to life as usual ... ;) ... sans the CrackerJack prize.

... and the world spins ... vvrrooommm vroommm

Knight Rider

2008-10-13T22:47:00.023-05:00

Dear Journal:

Dear good buddy's favorite gray OSU hoodie has been laid to rest. We are in mourning. Days ago, I found it wadded up behind a small desk in his room. How did I know it was there, you ask? Well, gasoline has a very distinct odor. One that causes Other to leap from her chair and pursue the scent until the source is found and obliterated.

I carefully rescue poor hoodie from the dark confines of the corner, and check for a pulse. Alas, there is none. I hold it up in dismay, smeared everywhere with black oil and (are you sitting down?) blood on both sleeves about mid-sleeve and on both cuffs. Even 150 ccs of Super Tide via intravenous drip couldn't revive poor hoodie.

My knees go weak as every “worst case scenario” flooded my frazzled pea brain. I've been a member of the Boys Club for some time, but nothing prepared me for this. My face was clammy and pale, and whatever smidgen of youth remained in me ran screaming for the last exit to nowhere. Boing! One more gray hair. Boing! Boing! Boing!

Did he get in a fight? Was he hurt? Why didn't he tell me? Oh my gosh, did he hurt someone else??! Off I go, pacing up and down the hallway ... waiting for him to get home so the inquest could begin under a halogen light bulb dangling from the ceiling - our usual pre-dinner meeting place. I stop to type a summary of the known facts. I pace some more. I run through the details of the day in my mind, trying to piece events together. I draw out a timeline like they do on Without A Trace. “Hmmm, we were at the dentist this morning. Hoodie on and clean. Took him home since no plans today; went to work ..."

I whip out the camera like a skilled CSI and carefully lay out the evidence – Mr. Hoodie is carefully tagged and photographed from every pertinent angle. An autopsy is conducted and findings logged. I try to gather other clothes he may have worn that day ... I sniffed all the dirty socks in his room like a highly trained hound dog trying to trace any other hints of gasoline. I. Sniffed. His. Dirty. Socks. Stinky boy socks. Sniffed them. Do you understand? Boing! Boing! Boing!

Hours later ... after I'm completely undone, aged ten years, my hair has fallen out from stress, and at this point I'm on oxygen ... he arrives home. He calmly reveals that he was out walking around during some free time today.

Me: Uh ha ... yeah yeah … walking around. O.k. O.k. I motion wildly to get to the point of the GASOLINE and BLOOD. "Don’t dillydally for heaven’s sake! I'm on oxygen! My time is limited."

Good buddy: This man pulled into the convenience store. His car was smoking.

Me: Jumping in mid sentence. "And he hit you?? Is that what happened?? The blood is from injuries!" "… No?"

Good buddy: No. Nope.

Good buddy offered to assist and the guy let him get under a smoking, leaking car to help change the oil. I don’t know who was the bigger fool as you-know-who knows about as much as I do about cars …

Me: "And … he ran over you??!! Are those tire marks on your hoodie??" "… No?"

Good buddy: No no NO.

Of course, he was the man for the job – more than happy to help. While under the car, his nose starts to bleed (he gets nose bleeds on occasion), and not wanting to disappoint the man by letting go of his grip on some part under the car, he wiped his nose on one sleeve, switched hands, and wiped his nose on the other sleeve. Back and forth. Back and forth. In the process, oil leaked all over him. He probably looked like an extra from Scary Movie 2 by the time they were finished! The concrete under him reeked of gasoline, so he smelled like a keg of lighter fluid by the time he was done.

He is never one to leave a stranger in distress. He’s really precious that way. Always looking for a project and a buddy. Sometimes that works in our favor, sometimes not. Mostly NOT.

So, at some point, Inconvenience Store Man offered good buddy a “moped” if he’d meet him the next day at the same spot. I’m sure feeling a bit guilty after seeing a totally ruined outfit of clothes and tennis shoes – not to mention taking advantage of his eagerness to please.

Unbeknownst to Other, good buddy meets the man again … and brings home … a mini … gas operated … TOY … moped that is … 22" tall. 22". Did I say 22” because I meant TWENTY-TWO INCHES. He is almost 5’9” -- his knees are way above the handle bars!!!

Oh my. Put me out to pasture. Lock me up. I'm done. I go from shock, near death ... to absurd laughter (inside). Big floppy shoes and a red nose would complete the set!! A perfect complement to his mini me bike … that obviously came from a freakin' cereal box! Good grief. Thanks again MAN from the convenience store. My life is so much better for having crossed paths with YOU.

Of course, he LOVES it. He thinks it's the greatest thing EVAH. Slept with it in his room making the WHOLE APARTMENT smell like gasoline. We need more flammable liquids inside, don’t you agree? You can never have enough gasoline. Indoors. So fragrant. So refreshing. So blow up-able. Mini me drips gasoline. The gift that keeps on giving. I hope I never meet you in person, Inconvenience Store Man. After Knight Rider fell asleep, I tip-toed in his room and rolled the little troll out on the balcony with a BIG SPOTLIGHT ON IT hoping someone would have mercy and TAKE IT! Please save me another blankity blank trip to the ER and TAKE IT. Hail Mary. Amen.

I just KNOW he's going to try to ride that thing out on a major street or something. He's had a VERY stern warning from me that bounced right off his little noggin and straight into the trash can. A war would have broken out had I taken his new prize possession away. His first motorized mode of transportation. Courtesy of CrackerJacks. Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit. Boing! Boing!

I'm Googling now to find out how to disengage the motor. What tiny part can I remove so that it won't start?? Then I can just shrug my shoulders, "Oh rats, honey. It just won't start! So sorry ..."

Tune in tomorrow for the conclusion of Knight Rider …

It Softens Hands While You Do The Dishes

2008-10-09T19:00:00.026-05:00

Note: Please manually arrow through slideshow. :( Picasa changed something. meh

Tuesday night, I received a humble request for apple pie. "Can you please, please make one of your apple pies?" There's no greater compliment to someone's cooking than to receive a request.

That someone would ask for a pie of all things makes me want to whip out a heavily starched apron, lacquer my lackluster beehive, and chat with Madge while we soak our hands in Palmolive. Sit back while we travel to the imaginary days of the 50s & early 60s when surely home baked pies cooled on every windowsill and perfectly manicured mothers anxiously awaited family to arrive every evening for pot roast on a perfectly set table.

A pie, you say? My apple pie? Well of course! I'm on it. "Now scoot and come back in a couple of hours." The windows and doors were open, inviting in the first crisp chill in the air. The leaves are turning vibrant colors. We had apples and all the goodies needed for a pie. The presidential debates had just ended. "Yeah, there's enough time to bake a pie," I thought to myself. "It was requested, you know."

Apple Pie Filling:

5 - 7 small red delicious or gala apples
3/4 c sugar
2 T flour
3 tsp cinnamon
1-2 tsp fresh lemon juice (optional)
4 T (pats) of butter

Peel and slice apples fairly thin. Sprinkle on lemon juice (optional). I don't recommend lemon juice if you use tart apples, like Granny Smith. Combine dry ingredients and toss with apple slices. Set aside.

Basic Pastry (For 2 Pie Shells - Top / Bottom):

2 c unbleached flour
1 T sugar
1 t salt
3/4 c cold Crisco - only brand I'll use
2 c water poured over ice, set aside
1 large egg, beaten
1 t white vinegar
dash cinnamon (optional)

Mix dry ingredients in large bowl. Spoon in cold shortening. Cut into dry mixture with large wire whisk or pastry cutter. Add beaten egg and vinegar. Gently fold with large spatula until pastry starts to form. Spoon in cold water (without ice) as needed - it won't take much. Keep folding until pastry is sticking together. Be careful not to add too much water. Place pastry ball on well floured counter and cut in half. Pat each 1/2 into a ball. Try not to work with the pastry too much to keep the shortening separated - this is what makes pastry flaky.

Roll one dough ball out to make the bottom pie shell. Important: place rolling pin in center of dough each time and roll outward w/even pressure to edge (never back and forth), moving clockwise, until a nice circle crust forms. Place in deep pie dish (see photos). Roll out remaining pastry ball, and cut into even strips. Place apples and any juice mixture in bottom of bowl in pie pastry. Sprinkle lemon juice on top, then add butter pats (try to place under apple slice so pastry doesn't bake on top of a butter pat). Add lattice work on top. Crimp edges if desired.

Place pie in pre-heated (a must!) 400 degree oven, middle rack, for 45 minutes or until edges of pastry are browned. 45 minutes is usually the max. Turn temp down 50 degrees after 15 minutes. (Crust pictured turned out a little too brown). If apples are sliced thin enough, they will turn out tender. If you made a fancy crimped crust, you may want to wrap edges in foil to prevent burning.

Remove from oven and let cool for about 30 minutes. Preferably on the windowsill. Let me know if you have questions or want to share your apple pie recipe!

Madge, my nails look great. How about yours? ... :) Welcome, Fall!

The Giant Pool of Money

2008-10-05T18:18:00.011-05:00

Halloween is gonna suck this year!

The subject of the financial crisis is so grave and hurtful to so many, it's difficult to find humor even in a light-hearted cartoon. After receiving it, I had to post about the bailout.

"The U.S. House of Representatives has passed the revised version of $700 billion bank bailout plan intended to bolster the ailing U.S. financial system. ... For the week, the Dow ended down 818 points, the biggest weekly point loss in seven years and the third-biggest weekly loss on a point basis ever." Excerpt courtesy of CNN online, 10/4/2008, (www.cnn.com).

If you are confused about our nation's financial meltdown, pour a cup of coffee and listen to this excellent audio presentation provided in May 2008 by This American Life from Chicago Public Radio in collaboration with NPR News, entitled The Giant Pool of Money. (Click on Full Episode to your left after linking to the site.)

One of the best explanations you'll run across in my opinion. Feel free to share this with anyone.

Trick or treat, America?

I think we all got teepeed this year.

Editor's Note: Cartoon credits in the lower left-hand corner read, Ed Stein ’07 – Rocky Mtn. News-NEA.

Liquid Assets

2008-10-05T17:40:00.009-05:00

"Water, water, everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink.”

Excerpt from, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
– Samuel Coleridge

Just as the ancient mariner betrayed the albatross that led his ship and motley crew out of danger, we are betraying through reckless neglect our highly advanced water and sewer systems. We are betraying those who devoted their ideals, intellect, collaboration and who many times endured excruciating hard labor to design, engineer and construct these complex systems. The majority of our water and sewer systems are well over the century mark, and in dire need of a complete overhaul.

I encourage you to learn more by watching Liquid Assets produced by Penn State Public Broadcasting, a 90-minute documentary on our nation’s deteriorating water infrastructure. It began airing nationally this month. Experts fear our aging national water infrastructure system is on the verge of failure. The documentary is not available in video format, so I can't share it here. Go here to find the broadcast schedule in your area.

Will the words of the ancient mariner come to pass on our nation? "Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere, Nor any drop to drink." I shutter to think of the consequences if we do not take action now. I urge you to watch this documentary and move to action -- voice your concerns and share this documentary with local and national leaders.

For fellow Oklahomans, OETA OKLA will re-air Liquid Assets again on Friday, 10/10/08 at 5:00 p.m. If you are a Cox Cable customer, OKLA is Channel 112. Please take a moment to read the comment from OETA's Programming Department below!

If you are moved enough to voice your concerns -- blog it. Write to your local leaders or reach out to your senator(s) here.

Significant concerns also exist with water quality in many areas - this is true. However, we are by far one of the most blessed nations to have the gift of accessible, clean water. Our lives, health and economy depend upon our complex and expensive water delivery & purification systems. We've all been inconvenienced for a short while without water due to a plumbing repair or ice storm or some other circumstance that shook us up ... made us think of our world without such easy access to water. The blessing of fresh drinking water, daily showers or baths, sparkling freshly-brushed teeth, clean hands, dishes, clothes, carpets ... we cannot make a move without water. Many industries cannot make a move without water. We are the beneficiaries and caretakers of an incredible gift.

Please share this post and encourage others to watch this documentary and to take action. Don't let these issues continue to be "out of sight, out of mind."

Let me know your opinions -- want to hear from you, too!

Editor's Note: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner poem by English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge written 1797–1798.

Shades of Brown

2008-09-24T05:15:00.007-05:00

Can you smell the coffee? This photo makes me drool. Shades of Brown has long been one of my favorite Tulsa coffee houses. Saturday morning, my sister invited me to caffeinate and catch up on news - thanks for a much needed break, Debbie! My soul sister, comfy surroundings, an attentive and caring barista, and this cozy cup of perfectly pulled espresso - who could ask for more? You'll also appreciate the heavy handmade ceramic mugs - each one as unique as the artful pour. A delight for all the senses.

Local artists display works throughout the coffee house that is abuzz with fascinating patrons, and there's plenty of seating among the eclectic furnishings. Enough space to roam about freely, yet cozy enough to converse without distraction. We're always treated so well - every visit. Sorry for the blurry photo - I try not to disrupt wild caffeinates in their natural habitat. Plus, it's too tiresome hiding in awkward places to get that perfect shot. "Novice blogger, here. Please don't mind me under the couch while you sip your lattes. I'm looking for a really artsy angle of your shoes ... "

Click here to go to the Shades of Brown website. Oh, here's a cuppa for lefties!

Tell me about your favorite coffee house ...

Dragon Snaps!

2008-09-23T05:33:00.018-05:00

Fall is here! I've been experimenting with gingersnap cookie recipes for months looking for a new holiday treat to gift this year. Unable to find a delectable spicy, crispy snap, I began a quest in my own kitchen lab ... dangerous ... :)

Since I am starting to get requests for these, I think it's safe to unveil the recipe. These are called dragon snaps because you will breathe fire after eating one! They're not quite that spicy ... but so aromatic, ginger-y, and the spicy kick is more than a bit addictive.

karen's dragon snaps

2 c flour
1 1/2 T ground ginger
2 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
1/4 t finely ground black pepper *
1/8 t ground cayenne *
1 large egg
1/4 c molasses
3/4 c shortening
1 c + 2 T sugar

1/3 c regular granulated sugar (works best if it's not "finely" granulated but don't worry if that's all you have) & cinnamon combined

* maximum suggested amount

Combine all dry ingredients except sugar. Use mixer to blend in beaten egg and molasses. Then mix in shortening. Then mix in sugar a little at a time. Pat into a big ball in bowl and place on counter (no need to flour counter). Go over with a rolling pin a little to flatten and form into rectangle, then cut into cubes (between 3/4 and 1" cube).

I'm not a huge fan of shortening, but I use all vegetable shortening in these. It's what works best.

Roll each cube into a ball, then roll in cinnamon sugar and place on cookie sheet. Place on center rack. Bake 7 minutes at preheated 330 degrees. Remove from oven and let cool just a bit, then move with spatula to counter. Cookies this small will burn easily. After baking, these will be around 2" wide. Depending on your oven, you may have to adjust time and temperature.

Delicious with coffee. Makes your home smell scrumptious. Store in tightly sealed container - these store very well. Great for the holidays. Try 'em and share your thoughts. I'd love to try your recipes, too.

love, karen

Tips: Originally, I tapped the cookie sheet on the counter to flatten cookies after they baked. They are much better if you don't do this ... leave 'em alone. To save time, put sugar and cinnamon mixture in round tupperware, then put rolled cookie dough balls in and shake gently. You can coat several really fast this way!

More Tips: We have settled on 1/8 t black pepper instead of 1/4 t. Also, the smaller the better with these cookies - they should be no more than 2" wide after baking. When smaller, they crackle more. We like the crackle! Coat with plenty of sugar/cinnamon. Bake exactly 7 minutes, remove, let cool and remove from cookie sheet.

The lab experiments continue ... :)

Dragon Snap Reviews:
A Daisy A Day (Thanks, Daisy!)

Teen Angst at the 21st Street Bridge

2008-09-21T10:42:00.018-05:00

Friday evening after work, several errands and a little debacle over his new haircut, he and I raced toward the 21st Street Bridge to say farewell to the day, arriving just as an enormous, fiery sun melted away beyond the murky Arkansas river. Gone in an instant. I grabbed the camera to take a few pictures in the afterglow of sunset.

The sound of churning water whispered in my ears like the sobering whoosh whoosh of a heart beat. Looking down at the river, I felt his heart's turmoil as if it were my own. This young man gazing out at the river, contemplating life. These thoughts came rushing forth when I later realized the story these few random photos revealed - so relative to his circumstance while he's on the verge of manhood, yearning to cross that bridge to his future yet not quite ready to let go of the past:

Teen Angst at the 21st Street Bridge

Water churning, emotions burning. Life ahead.
What am I? Who am I?
What is out there just beyond all of this?
Youth tearing away from me, pushing me forward.
Like a seedling through a crack in the concrete, a weed in the sidewalk without glory.
A life transplanted where it shouldn't be.
Life ahead. Who can capture it?
She loves me. She dumped me. Nothing makes sense.
My connections severed on all sides. From where do I come? I am from all over, here and there, nowhere in particular. Everywhere.
I know of God.
Oh yeah, my girl, she loves me today.

That ol' bridge is calling my name.
Front of the line, it's my time. Ready or not.
There's no staying back.
Water churning, emotions burning.
Who am I to take that first step?
Must go.
That ol' bridge is calling me.

More serious now, a young man's sights set on that bridge as his childhood and adolescence fade away into the sunset, pushing him toward that bridge to manhood. His young love on his mind. Fearful and fearless.

Water churning, emotions burning.
I'm no good.
A weed in the sidewalk with no glory.
It's time to make peace with the past, with all I am and all that I'm not.
She loves me today. That girl.
Ol' bridge calling my name. Life ahead.
Love is wretched. What do I know?

Here it is, bridge under foot.
I'm not ready but there's no stopping.
It's my time. I'm front of the line.
Youth is tearing away from me, pushing me on.
Past is fading, there's no waiting.
All of life a blur, rushing in now.
O' River of Humanity, carry me onward toward my destination.
Be good to me on this journey.
A weed in the sidewalk with no glory. Make me a man.
She loves me today, her hair as lovely as your currents flowing over me.

Teen angst at the 21st Street Bridge.

© Karen D. Maehr

Front view of the shaved head Mohawk look < 'other rolling eyes >.

The Paper Life

2008-09-17T22:54:00.029-05:00

When caring for the uniquely-abled (aren't we all uniquely-abled?), you enter a new dimension ... one Rod Serling never dared approach because there is truly no return from the twilight zone of government forms. I realize agencies and case workers have the best intentions, but you have to admit something's run amok with all the paperwork. And these agencies aren't all neatly integrated through technology, so guardians and caregivers devote an enormous amount of time to paperwork. That would be paper that requires one to work. And work and work and work. Ooh, the word breaks me out in hives. Here's just an example of a few recent items ... this is outside of paperwork for the rest of life as we know it.

Items that won't bite my behind within the next ten days go under the desk:

Just a few applications, forms, renewals, evaluations and other random requests from too many agencies to list here ... from the last 90 days. You should see the stack from the final semester of school. I'm still recovering. Hats off to anyone who can nagivate through the system of services, resources and qualification marathons. Most of this is so he can possibly land on a waitlist, or the list to get on the waitlist for resources for which he may or may not be eligible later on. The disabled aren't free to enter into society as many do (employment, vocational rehabilitation, medical care systems and therapy, individualized education plans/IEPs, independent living if available, transportation, and other assistance). You must pre-qualify and re-qualify on paper before you breathe:

Plain 'ol bills here that I pay as late as possible so I feel as though I have a network of caring souls calling me every 10 minutes to check on my well-being (eh, payment status). I'm so touched. As a caregiver, you need community and support any way you can get it...

Love notes from the electric company. We have this love-hate thing going lately ... but we never actually break up because I do finally stop the coy act and pay up. I'll miss these days when we get back on track financially. There's something intriguing about not knowing if the lights will be on when I arrive home ... candlelight anyone? So far, no dinners without Mr. AEP attending, thank goodness. Such a tease with the sweet talk:

This is one form - one - for his annual benefits renewal through Medicaid including all the requested documentation required to validate his continued need for basic health insurance (whew!). Bank statements, rent payments, utilities, how often he clips his toe nails:

...and now you see why f-o-r-m is the new f** word around here!

...and finally, paper worthy of real attention ... from my wonderful sister without whom we could not make it. A beautiful, generous soul. Love you too, Deb:

Pluck Up Your Courage

2008-09-15T23:46:00.011-05:00

When overwhelmed, ask God for courage, wisdom, and peace of heart. Breathe. Listen to your heart beat. This conversation was recently exchanged amid the choreography of morning toast, coffee, tea, dishes clanging, and the two of us in our usual routine in our tiny apartment kitchen:

karen - oh my, look at the time! I need to finish getting ready.
good buddy - what, your war paint? I have to put on my war paint everyday, too.
karen - what do you mean by that, little buddy?
good buddy - well, I have to pluck up my courage every morning so I can face my day. that's my war paint, you know.
karen - that is impressive, young man. you know that? I love you.
good buddy - yeah ... I love you, too.

Feeling that your day is too overwhelming? Pluck up your courage, my dear friend. Our love to you.

ps. Praying for everyone affected by Ike.

Senate Bill 1738 - The PROTECT Our Children Act

2008-09-15T22:54:00.011-05:00

Put your foot down on this issue. Help Pass Senate Bill 1738—The PROTECT Our Children Act. Everything you need, including a form letter, is here. Or go here. Find your Senator(s). Cut & paste this letter into his/her/their contact form(s) online:

Re: the PROTECT Our Children Act (S. 1738, Biden-Hatch)

Dear Senator:

I know that you believe, like I do, that we must do everything possible to protect children from sexual predators. That is why I am asking for your help.

Last year alone, U.S. law enforcement identified over 300,000 criminals who were trafficking in movies and pictures of young children being raped and tortured. Experts say that one in every three of these criminals has local child victims. Child pornography trafficking over the Internet has given us a trail of evidence that leads straight to their doorsteps, but the vast majority of these children will never be rescued because investigators are overwhelmed, outnumbered and underfunded.

As your constituent, I urge you to do everything in your power to pass the PROTECT Our Children Act (S. 1738, Biden-Hatch). This bipartisan legislation passed the House 415-2, but it is now the victim of petty partisan politics.

Now that we know where these children are and how to protect them, there is no excuse for the Senate to fail to take action this session.

(Your name here)

This letter is courtesy of The Oprah Winfrey Show (www.oprah.com). The vote is only days away. Please don't delay. Do your thing. -- karen

In Loving Memory of Peanut (1991 - 2008)

2008-09-08T00:28:00.020-05:00

Too grieved at the moment to write. Will update this post soon. Our precious comrade left us early Saturday afternoon. She had been down a few weeks, and I have been busy caring for her. Much love -- karen

Update 9/9/08:

Our grief is no less diminished today, and we seem to only miss our little Pea more as time goes by. Her presence so filled our lives. A consoling friend sent me words of comfort, expressing how our pets possibly have such short lives because they learn all they need to know quite early - loving without reservation. That is so, so true. Pets teach us lessons through their unreserved love -- assignments that no human would or could endure to see through to completion.

Without telling us their past, their woes or hurts. Without a single conversation or eloquent speech. Without promises of what they will do. Without social influence or material goods. Without creative works or deeds. Without … they make their way into our families, our lives, our hearts. Needing our love and care as much as we need theirs. They offer their humble presence. They quietly display an enduring, trusting, and forgiving character. Moment by moment, a constant in our lives. Waiting upon us through the years. Loving us unconditionally. Without judgment. Without concern for themselves. Uncomplicated by the world's motives. Taking age and illness in stride, with the humble dignity of knowing their purpose and place. It is a loyalty, a special kind of bond and love that words cannot capture.

Our pets have tough assignments, to cross over from nature's world into ours. To make their way in our world without the currencies of our many economies. Slowly they chip away at our hearts' edges with only the tools of their presence and character, sculpting as naturally as a stream of water carving out rock over time. Our faithful companion's indomitable spirit chips away those undesirable traits in us, a task from which most humans would walk away, having lost patience before the artwork (heart-work?) had even begun to take shape.

For this, I feel certain our little comrades have a place in heaven. Their example is too important, their assignment too tough to be without reward for a job well done. And those were my parting words to little Pea, "thank you for a job well done, my friend." I feel she understood.

She completed her assignment with the purest of love, patience and endurance. She traveled along beside me through my journey, ever present, offering love and geniune companionship through the ups and downs of life. Never complaining. Always of an adventurous spirit and light heart.

I could never dwell too long in my thoughts after a hard day without her appearing around the corner, barking softly or nudging my leg for my attention as if to beckon me out of such heavy contemplation. There was nothing to do but smile and laugh in her presence. Isn't that such a wonderful gift?

1991 - 2008. A long life. A cherished comrade. Good-bye, my precious friend ... thank you for a life well-lived.

Sweet Tooth

2008-08-25T22:22:00.019-05:00

Somebody had a sweet tooth tonight, so I whipped up a super easy, delicious peach cobbler.

Peach Cobbler

1 1/4 c Bisquick
1 c milk
1 c sugar (1/4 c + 3/4 c)
1 can (29 oz.) sliced peaches, don't drain
1 t vanilla
1 t cinnamon (1/2 t + 1/2 t)
pinch of salt
butter
1/4 c sugar + 1/2 t cinnamon mixed, set aside

Pour peaches in bowl with juice. Add vanilla, 3/4 c sugar, 1/2 t cinnamon. Stir and pour in greased glass 9 x 13 casserole pan. Place 4 to 5 pats of butter on top.

Reuse bowl - don't rinse - add Bisquick, milk, 1/4 c sugar, 1/2 t cinnamon, pinch of salt. Mix - will be like batter. Pour back and forth over peaches - no need to cover every spot. Take sugar + cinnamon mixture, sprinkle generously over top. (Feel free to cut back on the sugar in this recipe, especially if peaches are in heavy syrup.)

Place in preheated oven, middle rack. 375 degrees for about 35 minutes or until brown on top. Remove, let cool. A scoop of ice cream doesn't hurt. Sweet tooth satisfied!

I interpret this to mean, "Thank you, dear 'other, for all you do. I am happy." If I find this covered with foil and dishes in the dishwasher in the morning, I shall weep with joy.

Update:

I often chuckle to myself, running for humor rather than tears, at what goes on throughout our days, and the small slice I share here is of peach cobbler and ice cream. I am entrusted with such an intimate view of this beautiful, complex soul. God's perfect art, the rebellious world's patina deeply embedded, body-soul-spirit deep. Most days, I am hanging on by my fingernails, hoping our world doesn't collapse ... and it doesn't ... and we go on.

This morning, foil is the most beautiful message I could receive ... a sign that something is breaking through in him. That cobbler will be there for me when I need it, like everything else. My gesture of motherly love is of value, and he can own it; it's worthy of his protection and care. I brush my fingers across his fretting forehead at times; I let go of the confines of boundaries so he has a place to roam free and wild while he figures all of this out.

The Things I Want Most

2008-08-19T18:00:00.012-05:00

There is an extraordinary woman whose life has been swept into the gravitational pull of my spinning(-out-of-control) life. She accepts her fate with grace and keeps us in orbit, shielding us from black holes and pesky asteroids in her tattered red cape. S., we love you.

This talented woman recently passed along a book - The Things I Want Most. I highly recommend this book to anyone involved with children from troubled backgrounds who are working their way through the "system." This book will open your eyes to the fragile nature of a child's heart. It brought me comfort, a new sense of determination, and also heartache for the countless children lost and their caregivers.

As noted in an earlier post, the one I have taken in endured no less than twenty-two relocations or placements within a nine year period, across two states and seven different cities; two parents, three step-parents, four siblings. When you read the book, this will have relevance.

The posts have been few. Life is full of the unexpected, but love endures. We are strong. -- karen

Juggernaut

2008-08-07T07:51:00.047-05:00

Late last night, I couldn't stop thinking of a post that I discovered at Heather Armstrong's site. Here's the link to Dani's story. I ached with grief over the circumstance of little Dani.

On this subject, child neglect and abandonment at any level are grievous acts, especially in cases when a child is disabled since birth, and the parents, albeit divorced, are fully able to provide. Parental provision should fully encompass the human experience -- parents should provide from the heart with all the realms it covers. They should provide love, leadership, spiritual guidance, education ... filling social, material, financial and other needs. Bringing a child into the world is eternal - it can't be undone. An ugly divorce dealt a particularly cruel blow in the situation I am now mending. Divorce decrees don't undo bringing a child into the world - his bones of their bones, their hearts forever connected as once a family, always of lineage.

Children are not furniture - to be moved about casually with no regard for the heart. Children are not born with an understanding of alcoholism or substance abuse. Children have no regard for legal decrees. Children are hardwired to endure dire consequences to be with biological parents, as parents should be for their children. Children will fight and kick their way back to the bitter end. They will suffer when families break apart. Sometimes divorce is necessary - but there's never an excuse to neglect innocent children in the process.

The ravaging effects of child neglect are infinite and many times, permanent. The rust and decay of the perpetrators' hearts spread to all touched by the circumstance, and then it quickly corrodes the larger community's ability to thrive. Disabled children, especially, require parents who place a life-long priority on family.

The story of Dani is extreme and rare. It however conjured up the emotional juggernaut from which I run for cover on an ongoing basis. It seeps under my door like water, filling the room until I am swimming beneath the ceiling, begging God to open the door and drain the conflict within me before I am overcome. I have become a fierce swimmer, for nothing will separate me from the one I have taken in. Nothing. I cry at times in frustration. I fight anger and resentment towards the biological parents who are alive and well, remarried with other families. There is no material or other provision for the struggling one left behind, the one who cannot yet stand on his own, who will always require special guidance and love - each parent points blame at the other and they whirl around like kites in the wind - useless to us.

Step-parents misunderstood him and found his growing challenges too difficult when, in fact, the adults in his life created the very turmoil that fueled his simmering frustrations and intense pain. This challenged, suffering child took all he could of being a little tin soldier in a terrible divorce, being bounced abruptly for years and years from place to place with limited coping abilities, having to choose between the two gods of his world, whom he loved and needed more than anything. New families formed, and grew and moved on without him. One day, that tin soldier -- drafted into the battlefield of divorce and politicking, against which he had no defense or understanding -- surrendered to his suffering, confusion and anger. Something gave way, his spirit broken. The smiling little boy as he was once known, was no more. He withdrew deep within himself under heaps of rubble and debris.

Years later, I found the tin soldier as a minor in a public shelter. Having won no battles, no medals of honor. Abandoned. Disabled. Poverty-stricken. In the legal system. A ward of the state. Medicated. Depressed and not eating. Gaunt. Suffering. Confused. Angry. Tired … bone-deep, aching fatigue that dulls the eyes. This was the end of a long, long journey through the battlefields of his life. Twenty-two relocations or placements in the last nine years alone, across two states and seven different cities; two parents, three step-parents, four siblings. Ultimately, he was left behind by those responsible for him - those who are well able to provide, and yet they do not.

So what does one in my position do? Do I divert my limited resources and energy to lawsuits and the courts, or pull back the throttle with all my might to surge us ahead and away from the conflict and pain - even if it means letting others "get away with it?" Will I carry my anger with me no matter how far we go?

Do any of us, in our broken world, want to play the blame game all the way back to Old Adam, no matter how grievous the offense? I suffer too, yes. I have sacrificed in all ways. I worry that I myself will become a financial burden to others in my golden years because of the financial drain I now endure - even though well educated, I could no longer work full-time, pursuing a professional career as in the past. There is no magical government agency for the disabled - we've registered everywhere possible. Obtained all the necessary evaluations, labels, qualifications - my life has been an endless river of forms for ever so long.

Limited independent living assistance for him is a 6 to 8 year wait in Oklahoma. A job? Sources state there are currently over 3,500 disabled Oklahomans waiting for employment opportunities, but we continue to follow leads, seek out agencies, and I complete long, tedious forms at warp speed, follow up and hope for a break. Social Security Disability? He doesn't qualify because, being disabled since birth and not employed, he's never put into SSA through payroll taxes. Therefore, he cannot draw from these funds. A bit depressing. How do I help him find his purpose and build his own life? In the back of my mind, I never let go of the thought that he could have a family of his own someday. Who has the right to say otherwise? Life rushes forth whether we're ready for it or not.

On my own, I still manage on a meager income to cover for the parents and step-parents who glibly look the other way, pursuing and enjoying material success, too busy to be bothered with "the past," as they call it. I drive an old car. I stopped shopping for clothes a long time ago. I parted ways with salon visits, meals out, and other luxuries. I no longer have a retirement plan nor is there anything left for savings. Groceries are basics. Entertainment is a drive to Sonic for a couple of limeades.

My dreams are about much needed orthodontia to brighten his beautiful smile. I dream of building a small home for him so we will never have to consider other options. I dream of no longer renting. I see a great future for both of us ... someday. Life can have its way with us for now.

Still, at the end of some days, alone and immersed in the cathartic nature of a stellar sunset, I am lifted to a higher perspective and the long view of things. Love momentarily rushes through me towards all connected to this - we're all so broken in our human experience, just as those before us, and before them, and all the way back to the beginning. I try to stop forgiveness, but I can't catch it. Tears well up in my eyes because there's comfort in my anger. I am so conflicted. I look up to capture the last embers of the day, my eyes lifted for a fleeting moment from the muck of my circumstance.

I suffer. I fear. I cry. I resent. I love.

Juggernaut.

Editor's Note: This is an intensely private post no doubt - a marked departure from my usual writing. This situation, however, is an enormous part of my life that I have decided to share. This juggernaut, I am sure, will continue to randomly surface on this blog as it does in my life. A few have responded over this post - all positively. I however remain deeply torn over it - but ultimately decided these emotions and passages, always begging as my fingers light upon the keyboard, deserve expression. So, for better or worse, this post will remain. Your comments are encouraged as this juggernaut contends with my soul not unlike the Bermuda Triangle's strange effect on a ship's compass. I am lost at sea at times, so throw me a line.

Poppies for Daisy

2008-08-02T15:00:00.025-05:00

Sad to see the carnival leave town - the crowds have gone home, the smell of corndogs and vendor fare vaporized in the light of day. Bloggy Giveaway Carnival has pulled up stakes and rolled up the tents. Thanks to everyone for your inspiring comments about my giveaway! I was so thrilled with each message. I visited your blogs, too, and emailed as many thank yous as I could before time ran out - otherhood & the office call, and off I run. Beautiful souls, beautiful families, and inspiring blogs. So glad our paths crossed through this giveaway.

I couldn't bear to pick the winner myself, so I asked my good buddy to draw from a bowl of numbers this morning - and 17 won! I counted 17 down on the comments list, and there was a daisy of all things. So, I'm sending beaded poppies to Daisy in Minnesota.

If I could, I would send all of you a card because the real joy is in giving them away. Not wanting anyone to leave the festivities without a parting gift, I posted Sunflowers as a little refreshment for the soul - how's that as a substitute?

There will be another giveaway in October! If anyone has questions about this post, leave a comment and I'll reply asap. Thank you again. Love prevails. -- karen

Editor's Note: In reply to FAQs I receive ... the "poppy" in my blog header is one of my first pastels. A rough draft, painted at a park one chilly, windy day with my dear fellow by my side, sketching and sharing his life dreams. It's not any particular kind of flower, but a whimsical interpretation - and the result of the few pastels we had on hand that day! The pastel of him above was borne of desperation - I couldn't afford senior pictures. Not to be outdone by poverty, I painted his portrait for the cover of his handmade graduation announcements. Living simply has revealed many talents in both of us. It's been the ride of our lives ... and we're never turning back.

Sunflowers

2008-07-30T23:54:00.029-05:00

“I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”
-- Vincent van Gogh

As nature began stirring in preparation for morning, darkness scattering from the rhythmic energy of the dawn, my eyes opened - sensing terra firma’s Grand Stadium wave was about to arrive at our section. With the excitement of a diehard sports fan, I readied for the leaping wave as the first slivers of red sun burst over the horizon. I called into good buddy's room to rouse him from his sleepy burrow. Out and about within minutes, we joined the local buzz of the Cherry Street Farmers Market on Brookside. As the morning budded into day, I could feel the grand ol' wave moving on to the next section of the globe.

Passing through the casual, polite crowd of "morning people," admiring nature’s bounty at every turn, I was attentive to the way the sun conducts mankind through time, tuning the timbre of our souls – each of us a beautiful, unique note nestling in the proper place, sung at a precise moment according to a plan beyond our understanding. I turned, and before me were sunflowers captured in an ordinary bucket, like domesticated exotic animals caged until the next show. I snapped the photo above while thinking that sunflowers are special, deserving of better accommodations - such as those provided by van Gogh here.

Sunflowers flow with the rhythm of life. To and fro their ruffled heads go, to and fro. Sun chasers from east to west, morning to dusk. Golden bonnets arise from sleep facing east, basking their seedy faces in lemony rays that beckon them westward - until dusk turns down the blanket of a starry night, covering them until dawn. These sleeping beauties bow humbly as the last glimmer of their radiating overseer slips beyond the western horizon. With a kiss goodnight, they turn easterly on their pillows in anticipation of the morning's greeting. To and fro they go, to and fro.

Later this morning while driving to work, it dawned on me how the grace of these heliotropic wonders captured van Gogh’s heart, casting him a lemony ray for his canvas, beckoning him from bouts of disturbing darkness. Oh how he is an example of beauty triumphing the brokenness of our world. Standing firm in the depths of his soul, peering out from there at the brokenness of his body, the turmoil of his world … and painting without regard to admiration, public opinion or fame, but for the love of creating beauty.

Before madness took van Gogh under, he created beauty – he made the most of his lucidity, and it reminds me to make the most of my days in the sun. In between to and fro, make haste in my purpose, my talents no matter how small. Exhaust them in the to and fro of life. Van Gogh is often quoted as saying, “I am not strictly speaking mad, for my mind is absolutely normal in the intervals, and even more so than before. But during the attacks it is terrible - and then I lose consciousness of everything. But that spurs me on to work and to seriousness, as a miner who is always in danger makes haste in what he does.”

In between to and fro, radiate beauty from within your brokenness, and turn heads like the sun. -- karen d maehr

Editor's Note: Self portrait (1887) of Vincent van Gogh found here (www.vangoghgallery.com). Sunflowers painting by van Gogh (1888) found here (www.allposters.com).

Bloggy Giveaways Carnival

2008-07-30T09:06:00.014-05:00

I just discovered this creative giveaway concept and thought I would tie my next handmade card giveaway to it. Why not? Looks like fun and it introduces you to about 1,000 giveaways all in one place!

It's called Bloggy Giveaways Quarterly Carnival, and it runs through August 1, 2008 (this Friday) -- go there to see all the other fun giveaways. I'm somewhere near 950-1,000 on the list, but you don't need to go there to enter my giveaway.

To enter my giveaway, which is one of my handmade cards (click this link to see more pictures), just leave a comment on this post - that's it!

Other things you should know:

1. One entry per person.

2. Leave an e-mail address at the end of your comment so I can contact you. Please remember to do this! ... and you don't have to be a blogger to participate.

3. Giveaway ends August 1, 2008 at midnight.

4. Winner will have 24 hours to confirm after I email the notification; if I don't receive a reply, I will select another winner.

5. Please note that I will cover the cost of shipping within the United States only.

Enjoy the carnival! Thanks for the encouraging comments, too!

Breaking News: Wisconsinite Wins!

2008-07-28T19:49:00.011-05:00

A toast to our winner, Kam from Wisconsin! You've won the card giveaway. It's packaged and ready for delivery to the Post Office tomorrow. The real joy is in giving it away. I included many extra inserts, so the card can be passed on and on as many times as someone is willing to let go of it! I'll announce a new giveaway soon.

Another reason to toast ... Kam recently started a new blog. Keep it up!

Love big tomorrow ... just because you can.

Editor's Note: Berger ad by French artist Roland Ansieau.

I See Your True Colors

2008-07-26T15:23:00.019-05:00

To My Dear One:

The world has hurt you and I'm angry, too, at those who were supposed to keep you close, protect and provide for you until you are able to stand on your own. I don't know how to mend such big wounds but my love is long suffering, strong and wide. It is a waste of energy to resent and hate. Those are traps, my dear one. The world is broken, yet beauty is not beyond our reach.

Beauty is knowing you are more important to me than anything the world could offer. Beauty is seeing your true colors ... watching you come into your own in the midst of hard trials and tribulation at such a tender age. Beauty is your ability to forgive and know your own shortcomings. Beauty is trying with all you've got and falling hard, then getting back up. Beauty is your humor and unique approach to life.

Rest here, knowing you are loved. Have faith and we'll hang tight together. We've been adrift on these open waters for awhile now, sunburned and parched, hungry and tired, yet undaunted by the journey. I see your beautiful colors, little sandbur under my wing. How I love you ... there are good times ahead. Sometimes, when everything around is screaming at you to run, the hardest part is knowing to stand still and let God take over.

Editor's Note: YouTube video of Cyndi Lauper performing "True Colors" live on The View/ABC March 19, 2007.

Baubles & Beads Giveaway - Last Day to Enter!

2008-07-24T19:43:00.012-05:00

It's here already - tomorrow (Friday, July 25) is the last day of the Baubles & Beads Giveaway! It's simple to enter - just leave a comment on this or any post. My earlier post mentioned leaving a comment on that post only, but I don't think I'll have a problem sorting through the comments - ha! I have wanted to post daily and I'm trying to organize my schedule to allow more time for sharing, but otherhood and work require most of my attention ... I'm sure you understand. I'll give it another try next week! This has been the most wonderful outlet for me - if you don't blog, try it!

This is one of my favorite card designs. I love the colors -- let me know what you think of it. It is a beautiful outfit for your words and sentiments. So, leave a comment on any post before the clock strikes midnight tomorrow night. I'll randomly select a name over the weekend, and announce the winner on Monday.

In the meantime, do something special for yourself this weekend, o.k.?

All images & artwork © Karen D. Maehr

Scrip Scriptorium 1-1-1

2008-07-20T18:24:00.021-05:00

I pondered over what to call this series of posts and created the title Scrip Scriptorium. One, it's fun to say. Scrip means "a brief writing" and "a small piece or scrap, esp. of paper" among other things. Scriptorium means "a writing room; esp. a room in a monastery for copying manuscripts, writing, and studying." A blog is a modern day twist on these terms.

In reference to the original post for this series, I will occassionally compose a snippet of scripture study based on Les Feldick's bible studies including a photo of scripture reference (the scrip) on this blog (the scriptorium minus the stained glass windows and irritating hair shirts)!

Humor aside, always keep in mind that it is never my intention to cause offense. This first study is a general overview - years ago, much of it went over my head. Absorb what you can and keep going. One has to start somewhere - this study is intended for those with some knowledge of scripture. I purchased a study bible from Mardel's to familarize myself with people, events, dates, authors, etc. However, keep in mind that a study bible is not holy scripture. Holy scripture fits together so beautifully and is the inspired Word of God.

In this study (Les Feldick's Book 1, Lesson 1, Audio 1 - or 1-1-1), focus on the concept of the timeline and the Abrahamic Covenant. This timeline document is from Les Feldick's website:

As your understanding grows, so will your strength, peace of mind & joy -- and desire to share it. Soon the study will begin a chronological walk through scripture, so open your bibles to follow along. I also couldn't have devoted as much time as I have to the study without my MP3 player, so I strongly encourage you to use one. You will notice in the photo that I scribble notes everywhere - whatever it takes is my motto. Ask God to open hearts through this study. In His Love,

karen

The Joys of Otherhood

2008-07-20T15:52:00.024-05:00

... so I hear this commotion coming from his bathroom. I shout out, "are you o.k.?"

"Yeah, I just dropped my fork in the toilet, that's all."

In my usual late day stupor, looking like a reject for a Bill the Cat stunt double, I murmur "o.k." and carry on since 911 isn't required. Then I pause. Dropped your FORK in the TOILET. Whaaa? I try to let it go but my brain heard it, too. Too late. Damn.

O.k., so what are the logistics of this scenario? Was it #1 and you're balancing fork and plate in one hand, and ...? Was it #2? So, uhm, you're eating while going, then get up, turn around and lose the fork?

Hmmm ... what was the thought process before even going to the bathroom? Did something trigger the notion to plan ahead, and you felt the need to bring a snack for the long trip? Why not have pizza delivered? Must it be a 7 course meal complete with plate and silverware? Did you remember to put the linen napkin in your lap?

While these thoughts are jamming circuit breakers and sputtering around my cerebral hemisphere, I am interrupted by a cheerful visitor, fork in hand, "I got the fork back!!"

... DO NOT, I warn you, DO NOT EVER eat at my home. There isn't enough bleach to purify what goes on around here ... leave me here. Save yourself.

[And no, I'm not going to tell anyone whether or not I kept the stupid fork ... heh heh ... makes you a little uneasy, eh? Thought you knew me better?]

This is Bill the Cat (by American cartoonist Guy Berkeley Breathed). Bill is much better looking than I these days - and in much better shape. This is pretty much what I am doing about midnight everynight wondering where my day got off on the wrong track. Add a big mug of java in one paw. My legs are hairier than his ... TMI?

Editor's Note: If you are wondering, he beams with pride over his bathroom antics. Posting only encourages him. If you have boys, you understand. If one were to look up any gastro-intestinal reference in the dictionary, there would be a photo of my dear fork-dropper grinning, with the caption, "Pull my finger! Quick! Pull my finger!" This is Man's Country. I have grown accustomed to belching and burping as a form of appreciation and great happiness. … and no, please don't pull his finger. He means business.

Monday Monday, So Good to Me

2008-07-14T23:30:00.021-05:00

I'm about to call it a day, but wanted to post about my terrific Monday morning ... the single "mom," breadwinner, juggler-of-all-things gig keeps my blogging time to a minimum so you will often see late night posts. For several months, I have not been taking care of myself - hard times all the way around. Neglecting myself to make sure needs are met day after day is beginning to take its toll in every area of my life. Never one to surrender in defeat, I flew out of bed this morning tired of being plagued by my circumstance ... instinctively I knew the moment had arrived for defiance.

I gave into my highest purpose at the moment -- and that wasn't sleep. It's only recently that I redeemed my mornings ... and I intend to enjoy these morsels to the fullest! Before, mornings were so task oriented that there was little time to e-n-j-o-y the awakening of another day. This morning, I made a simple breakfast for myself and actually took time to savor it. Served on my favorite china and topped off with a Chai tea - I was going all out.

I should introduce another member of the family -- my little red sidekick of 16 years wandered in to see what was going on. Peanut. She was 2 years old when I adopted her. A rescue dog from the Dallas SPCA. So, that makes my treasured friend 18 years old ... another post for another day. Continuing on, I decided to go to the gym ... I haven't been there in months and months. No time. Down in the trenches of life ... this is the first time I have lifted my head to view the horizon in ever so long. Such a small thing ... but it's true. I had let myself almost become nothing inside ... placing no value on my own needs.

It was now starting to show on the outside, too. I can no longer hide it. I know a lot of beautifully caring and giving people do this ... it is so easy to fall into this trap! My worn out tennis shoes go on. I like it that they are so old and tired - and keep on going. I am almost ready to do something just for me.

The gym. To me, an oasis in the desert. I worked out for almost an hour, listening to bible study audios. I felt revived in too many ways to write at this late hour. Something good is happening.

I'll keep you posted on the transformation. Let me know what good things are happening in your life. Good night for now.

Found in the Seat Cushions of Life

2008-07-12T23:28:00.023-05:00

It’s nearly 1:00 a.m. on a weekday, and my second wind gave out hours ago. Rain is coming down in heavy drops with considerable noise against the car. Inside the car, it's muggy as I wait for my little fellow to end his first day working at the Super Saver Cinema in a not-so-great part of town. Settling in for the wait, I turn off the headlights, content that it should be safe as I scan my surroundings, squinting to see through the rain. In the darkness of the parking lot, I find myself chuckling over what my life has become – not discontented, but humored as I imagine a harmonious Buddhist monk would be knowing this moment is but one step on an eternal journey. Life feels enclosed lately. Small. Tucked away for later discovery.

Restless over the late hour and lack of sleep over the last several days, I crack open the window to decompress my emotions, to let the God connecting rain fill up my senses, and chase off the stifling lifelessness of the car. I breathe in the dusty smell of hot summer rain, and let my breath flow out with heavy purpose, reminding myself to be calm and let life flow on through. The quiet, unacknowledged, restless times of waiting and waiting ... let. it. flow. on. through. There is purpose in everything.

As we later arrive home, dashing in from the rain, the sensation of being enclosed, tucked within boundaries is still with me. My mind continues to hover within the confines of memory rather than racing beyond towards preparation for the day ahead. At this moment, I am not set on tasks, inspiration, dreaming or creating, but rather reflection … tracing steps of long ago. My mind knew what I needed before it registered with the rest of me ...

As I rush about to close the day with the stupor of exhaustion setting in, the smallest items catch my weary eyes – tokens and trinkets long forgotten in the seat cushions of my life. Despite the late hour, I want to gather them up and soak in whatever moment they represent - my life is in such need of a reprieve lately. Physical exhaustion is second only to the emotional and mental strain of recent times.

Like a beachcomber, I quickly turn up amazing discoveries displayed in the photograph above. Like real life pebbles from the shore of Alberta’s azure Lake Louise, formed so beautifully, a stunning emerald nestled in the icy soil. Holding one of these pebbles, I am once again on that tranquil, deep water as it laps up against the canoe, my corporate comrades laughing as we row towards the glacier in our midst, happy to forget we're in Canada on business. Brilliant sun in our windblown hair. The beauty of the lake overtaking us, confident that it has earned special recognition in our hearts.

Another find, a 1943 steel wheat penny from my grandparents’ farmhouse that I have kept careful watch over since the late 60s. At Christmas, family would gather in that tiny wood farmhouse until it bulged at the seams with occupants tearfully greeting one another, gifts in tow, stomping snow off of their shoes on the way in. The old screen door would without fail slam behind each arrival – triumphantly announcing another beloved relative throughout the house. Back slapping, card playing, pipe smoking, riotous laughter and numerous pranks abounded late into the night. The wheat penny was once part of a thriving economy based in my dear granny’s pantry – the wee ones’ makeshift, yet quite upscale, grocery store offering a wide selection of ... eh hmmm ... canned goods. I vividly recall the used red coffee tin that held our coin reserve smelling of stale coffee grounds and metal. We would run our well stocked store for hours, each pouncing for the next promotion to clerk or cashier. My grandfather gave me this penny when I was but 3 or 4 years old. This precious pebble has not strayed from me all these years as we’ve tumbled along the great river of humanity. I gathered wheat heads from the field surrounding my grandfather's grave site on the day of his funeral - the one pictured is the only one remaining. He was a wheat farmer.

So many pebbles to delight my soul, for a moment my troubles and exhaustion set aside. Shown are skeleton keys to a charming 1940s house that I called home at the time of my father’s unexpected passing. It was the last place we were in the presence of one another. He was wearing his usual crisp white cotton undershirt and well worn jeans, instructing me on a minor repair needed for the door leading to the garage. I found it odd that he didn’t repair it himself as was his usual manner, but rather let me know how to accomplish it on my own. I had no inner tugging to hearken to the moment as our last. Pictured here are a pair of his jeans and one of his shirts – that’s what I requested of my mother when asked if I wanted a special memento. Not too long ago, I became the recipient of his tiger oak desk, and that is where I am sitting at this very moment, typing. How I love so dearly and miss my father ... so so very much. Words cannot express ... I love you, Dad.

As the beachcombing came to a close, I held my mother’s 1962 Women’s State Basketball Championship gold pendant – passed onward to inspire me to hold on when times are unbearably tough. To stay committed to the cause and see it through to the end. ... and with that renewed inspiration, my dear friends, I jumped the shores of the past into the present, refreshed and invigorated ... and ready to rest well the next two hours before sunrise.

What have you found in the seat cushions of your life lately? I would love to see your great finds and hear about the memories they revive, too.

Baubles & Beads for You - Giveaway Time!

2008-07-07T15:17:00.018-05:00

It would be fun to give away some baubles & beads from time to time. What do you think? Let's keep it fun and simple. I'll randomly post a giveaway, like the one here, and all you need to do is leave a comment about the featured item to "put your name in the hat" for the drawing. (Anonymous comments won't count because I need a way to contact you.)

For this giveway, the deadline to leave a comment is Friday, July 25 (up until the clock strikes midnight if you want!). Over the weekend, I'll randomly select a winner and announce it on Monday, July 28. Yeah, that seems easy enough.

This card & envelope design is offered at my Etsy Shop, too. Tell your friends ... and feel free to comment on any of my posts! But for the giveaway, only comments to this post count (so I don't leave anyone out!).

All images & artwork © Karen D. Maehr

Etsy Shop Update

2008-07-06T20:57:00.011-05:00

A few items are beginning to fill the shelves of my Etsy Shop. Since time for the cards revolves around my other lives, it took many weeks to finish the first batch ... but I kept going! Also, since this is a hobby, I do not buy materials in bulk, so I am still replenishing the craft cupboards as I find supplies at a reasonable cost. Fine imported papers, Japanese and German glass seed beads, satin ribbons, etc. are on the more expensive side as far as card materials go. A lot of time goes into finishing details as well so that the result is a durable yet beautiful, functional and unique item. I am excited to finally post some for you to see! I'm working on another set now, and some jewelry, too.

I hope these cards bring great joy where ever they may end up. There's always oohhhing and aaaahhing over the beaded cards although I make many different styles of note cards. The two designs I have posted now are among the most popular of my past designs. I created this card beading concept in 1995, and I've never seen anything like them. I've always been fascinated with beadwork, beads in general and making cards - and these interests converged into the beaded cards. I've made cards since I was old enough to know what they are ... and would tote them around to neighbors as a child.

Share your thoughts with me on the cards. I would love to hear from you!

All images & artwork ©Karen D. Maehr

Happy Birthday, America!

2008-07-06T20:50:00.017-05:00

Independence Day was rather low key for us. With a picnic blanket in tow, we joined the crowd of 80,000 or so at Tulsa's FreedomFest '08. The weather was unexpectedly beautiful ... and pleasantly cool breezes in July? Who would have guessed.

We staked our claim downtown on a grassy hill, and I delighted more in the toddlers and youngsters stumbling up and bumbling down the hill with shrills of joy than seeing the spectacular fireworks. My mind wandered through its archives ... remember when all you needed was the backyard and some comrades to putter away the sunny days?

If you're a child of the 70s as I am, you'll likely recall clover and dandelion jump ropes. Kool-Aid and backyard swing sets. Public pools brimming with chlorine, and the sweet smell of sunblock. Sunburns and sunbleached hair. Stubbed toes on concrete sidewalks. Banana seat bicycles with white baskets scurrying down the street full of kids. The sound of the ice cream truck clearing out the hub of activity in seconds flat, sending everyone racing home for change.

We were oblivious to the paradigm shifts in culture happening all around. Helter Skelter, Watergate, Apollo 13, Kent State, and the release of Let It Be juxtaposed We're Gonna Zooma Zooma Zooma Zoom and The Electric Company. I'm so thankful to have these memories tucked away. Reminding me of my place in secular history, my footsteps in the chapters of time.

My mind closes the files, and I see my dear one through the eons of time since my sunny days on Sesame Street. Fireworks dancing above his head bring me back to present time.

We later headed home, and I thought of all it means to be an American. Our Freedoms. How difficult it is to truly appreciate freedom being so fully immersed in it my entire life. How fortunate I am to have enjoyed such a care-free childhood. How often I think of the Fallen who have made the ultimate sacrifice for us, for our beloved America. How fortunate I am to pray in public and worship God. How thankful I am to read In God We Trust when squinting at the date of a penny -- and relieved to discover its 2008 date stamp.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." -- excerpt from The Declaration of Independence

Happy 232nd, America.

About the Art of Heart

2008-06-12T16:15:00.025-05:00

The art of heart is about allowing your heart to navigate your life, even when a turn appears in complete opposition to the world's logic. It's about offering yourself through a heart that isn't hardened by life's circumstance, but rather ready to take significant risk to share in another's burden. Embracing the act of compassion even when it takes more from us than we're ready to provide ... taking that breathless, lunging leap of faith with our fears biting at our heels.

I see the heart as the ethereal seat of our mind, will and emotions. If you follow scripture, the spirit of old Adam resides there. The holy Spirit may dwell there as well. All of the unseen converge in the heart. It is a hidden sanctuary where our motives gather to embark on a mission, mingling with the other residents - seeking the heart's wisdom before morphing into actions in the outside world. It is my belief that a wise heart lets the Spirit lead, and will counsel one to pursue the highest good of another, the very definition of love.

The concept of the art of heart came about as a result of taking in and parenting a complicated, distraught, and totally wonderful young man to whom I will always be grateful for the countless gifts he has revealed in both of us. I embraced the act of compassion and took him in whole heartedly -- realizing that he, too, was willing to make one more transition. We braced for the unknown ahead but I am determined to stay the course as his steadfast guide in life. His journey has been complex and tragic, and we don't know how wide we will open that window to the outside. After being huddled down for a long time confronting challenges together, enduring storms and famine, we are just beginning to emerge as a family of our own.

Through the art of heart, I hope to share my experiences with others who struggle to raise troubled, abandoned children and adolescents facing life with significant challenges. I hope to collaborate with a new community because after shoving off into unknown waters for so long, I lost myself, and miss … everything! At the art of heart, you'll also find vignettes of daily life, humor, bible study, Tulsa metro happenings, coffee house reviews, and shopping at my Etsy Store. So log in and comment on what's happening with you!

I'm a 40 something Tulsan. Guardian to a wonderful young man with unique challenges, finding his way in the world. Casual artist and writer. Lover of the road less traveled … as long as there's a coffee house along the way! Love to share scripture as well as listen to what others have discovered in their studies. Professional background in international human resources. Former corporate titles, real paychecks and a BSBA/Economics have so little relevance to my life now, coaching the boy wonder as he comes into his own. I almost forget the former existence that I worked so hard to build. I love that I don't miss it any more.

I'm on the other side of coming undone. Want to join me?

Warning: Billboard Above Could Cause Injury

2008-06-10T01:01:00.006-05:00

The size of this blog header may have startled you upon opening this site. My apology. It has nothing to do with my ego, but rather lack of brain cells. I can't figure out how to make it a tad smaller so that it doesn't shout you out of your chair, causing you to spill hot coffee down the front of your PJs. As soon as someone rescues me from myself, I will correct the problem ... :)

Etsy Shop Open Soon!

2008-06-08T18:31:00.017-05:00

Aren't these fun? I created some 4th of July sparklers for my Etsy Shop. I'm dusting and stocking the shelves at the moment! During Open House, you can browse through handmade greeting cards, jewelry, postcards, and bookmarks. I've been crafting unique greeting cards since 1995. If you live in Tulsa, we will be at a local coffee house every Saturday morning if you want to stop by to pick up your purchases - to avoid shipping & handling charges. I'll notify everyone of our whereabouts by email. We'll be posting great reviews of local coffee houses, too!

Babylon's Confusion

2008-06-08T17:09:00.044-05:00

This post is written with the hope that you have an interest in scripture and learning about the God of the bible. I am a believer and want to use this blog to share knowledge as well as seek understanding from believers who have matured in the word. It is never my intention to offend anyone - no matter your beliefs. Also, I don't capitalize certain words or references according to old tradition - this is not intended to show disrespect. If I spend too much time dancing around sensitive issues, I would never finish a post! So, gird your loins, my dear friend. Prepare for a little spiritual mobility. Understanding the bible requires community. That is what this is all about ... and I'm thankful that you're a part of it. -------

Do you ever wonder why that tiny nation of Israel is still standing, even though surrounded by enemies to this day? Why is that little nation in the news every day? Do you ever ponder in awe over what magnificent beings we are, roaming on one tiny turning component of an intricate time piece with unsearchable boundaries? We each possess body, soul and spirit. How long has it been since you picked up an anatomy book - take a look at that master detailing. Then consider a soul comprised of mind, will and emotions - the unseen. And spirit; and for some, holy Spirit - we'll get more into this aspect later. We're amazing, and part of an amazing plan. Do you find yourself curious about it all?

A portion of this blog will be devoted to the chronological study of the bible - at the very least, it is a facsinating read and I hope you consider tuning in. There is so much confusion over the bible, Christianity, religion, church doctrine, on and on -- so I am encouraging you to go straight to the source for answers and this study will walk you through scripture in a common sense, straightforward manner.

It doesn't matter who you are or what you believe or if you don't believe anything. If you are seeking to understand scripture, this will be worth your time. You will not find church doctrine (if it's not based in scripture) or religion here. You will not find emotional preaching or soul seeking clichés. This is purely bible study, and it will shock many to discover what is - and isn't - in scripture. I am not trying to convert you to anything. The goal is to help you understand the bible. What you do with your knowledge is up to you.

This study will edify the believer -- "believer" is a commonly used term describing those who believe God's word as revealed in scripture, with special emphasis on understanding and believing the gospel of grace which will be covered in the studies.

This study will also educate the unbeliever -- an "unbeliever," another commonly used term, may or may not believe in God. Some may believe in God, but don't believe God. In other words, unbelievers may believe in God (they believe that God exists or a god or a supreme being as is often heard), but do not believe what God - the God of the bible - reveals to us through scripture which includes the gospel of grace.

For us today, it's specifically belief in the gospel of grace that makes a person a believer (or "saved" which is a scriptural term - meaning we'll have eternal fellowship with God) in the eyes of the God of the bible. I point this out because I myself didn't understand this until I studied scripture more intently. So, if you are a follower of the word of God as revealed in holy scripture, it is of paramount importance to grasp this.

Want to join in purely for academics? A history buff? Then come on ... you are welcome here. Everyone is welcome. The bible points out that we are not born into this world as believers - God provides us the choice. So, everyone at some point in his or her life was, or still is, an unbeliever. If you are new to scripture, hang in there. When I first went through the study, just as in any college course, I persevered through what didn't make sense to me because of my ignorance of the word, having faith that in time it would all fit together ... and it will.

I can definitely connect with you if you are reading the gospel in the photo (click on the photo to enlarge it) taken from 1 Corinthians 15:1-4, saying to yourself, "What?? That makes no sense whatsoever to me. That has no relevance to my life at all." This is the gospel of the resurrection or otherwise called the gospel of grace as declared by the Apostle Paul. Different terms - same gospel. If you're new to the bible, there's no way that you can understand the meaning nor depth of the gospel without starting at the beginning, Genesis, and coming up through the scriptures - the biblical timeline. Like with physics or the study of language, you have to start with the beginning concepts and progress through logical, sequential steps to master the subject. The bible is no different. It is a progressive unfolding of God's plan, a progressive revelation of his character.

I read the King James version of scripture. I follow the understandable, down-to-earth, insightful and downright remarkable studies offered by Les Feldick. I strongly recommend that you download Les Feldick's bible studies (that's a link - click on it to go directly to the free downloads) onto an MP3 player because repetition will be immensely helpful to you, as it is to me. When you are working out, work in a 30 minute study. When you are getting ready in the morning, at the grocery store, or waiting at the doctor's office ... multitask with today's technology. I began to love long red lights in traffic!

The best gift you could give yourself? Walk through Book 32 with Les - that will take you from Genesis to the gospel of grace, then you can continue on if you want. I doubt you'll want to stop your journey there.

When you begin to comprehend that we are already eternal beings (who are presently living in time), you will see the relevance and importance of understanding God's character, his plan of salvation (meaning eternal fellowship with God as opposed to eternal separation from him), and his love for you. This is a long post - thank you for making it through to the end of it! Now go load that MP3 player and ask me if you need help organizing all of those files!

1 Corinthians 15:1-4

2008-05-31T23:18:00.001-05:00

King James Version, full text:

1 Corinthians 15

Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand;

By which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain.

For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures;

And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures:

Text pictured: http://twitpic.com/2hmc3g

Commencement Ceremony

2008-05-31T22:18:00.013-05:00

A sea of red caps and gowns. Like a flurry of cardinals. One in particular catches my eye - in the center of the lens. One of nearly 900 graduates. Flying against the wind, and stronger for it. Such a parallel to his own life. What an amazing, turn-my-life-inside-out-upside-down ride it has been. I love you, Boy Wonder. You are an amazing young man. Fly, my red bird. Go well into life. God's abundant Blessings upon you always.

Baccalaureate

2008-05-31T14:19:00.007-05:00

Won. der. ful.

Under Construction

2008-05-31T13:32:00.013-05:00

Thanks for visiting! This site is under construction but Open House will be announced in July. The pink tulips at Utica Square this April were breathtaking! Hope to see you there enjoying live music at Summer's Fifth Night every Thursday this summer, ending once again with Tulsa's own Grady Nichols on August 28th.

The Mohican

2008-05-31T13:15:00.002-05:00

Photo taken 9-21-2008 at the 21st Street Bridge

The little Mohican. The softer view, with a smile. Google Mohawk. I consider myself very fortunate. You should have seen what he did not two days before the big Christmas dinner. By himself. Oh it was glorious.

I just made a bee-line for Wal-Mart, bought a colorful, cheery bandanna and covered it right up. With a bow on top. It was just FINE. FINE. O.k.?! O.k.

;)

Editor's Note: Posted 9-21-08.