Another Friday Night

This Friday night, I was sitting here tired, and too warm, and I thought, well, I'll have a drink.  So, I made myself a Tequila Sunrise.  I like them occasionally.  This is the second one I've had this week.  Tuesday afternoon at the library was INSANE.  There were too many things to check in, the phone was going crazy, and we had the world's loudest collection of kids and parents waiting for a program. All things we've dealt with before, but this was the first time this summer.  Wow.  I was exhausted Tuesday evening.  So, I had a Sunrise then.  Helped.  I don't make them strong enough to really feel them, and I only ever have ONE in an evening.
There are a few things to comment on in the week past.  My life is pretty dull overall, but sometimes the very mundane nature of it is reassuring, and when something unusual happens, it either makes me happy, knocks me for a loop, or makes me mad.  (As in angry.  I'm a Celt, already a wee bit daft.)  So, after Monday that I blogged about, we had library insanity on Tuesday, and my friends took their cats back this week.  Huzzah!  I love my friends, and I love their cats, but I really, really am glad not to clean that litter box every morning! (And afternoon.  And evening.  And right before bed...) 
Wednesday was a very productive and good day for me.  I got a blog post done that I have been wanting to write for a long time, and lacked the nerve to write.  I got a lot of clerical chores done, and got the air conditioner its annual check up.  I had my usual four hours at the library, and it was pretty good, not too busy and not too slow.    I also got followed on Twitter by one of my favorite celebrities.  (Kinda silly, I know, but it made me feel good.  I smiled all day Thursday with no effort at all...)  Thursday at the library was kinda slow, but I got a lot done, including all the outstanding Inter Library Loan books.  My shift on the desk was the last one, and it was kinda slow.  Quiet in there, for once.  After Tuesday afternoon, it was rather nice.  When someone did need my help, it was easier to give them my entire attention and make sure they had exactly what they needed.
Today I spent my morning booking various appointments and getting some bread dough ready.  Then another 1 to 5 at the library.  There were lots of things to check in, so working in the back went quickly, but my shift on desk was slower than usual for the 3 to 5.  Still, I was able to spend more time with the customers I did have, and that makes it easier to make sure they get what they came for, and leave happy. 
And almost a month ago, on a Friday night like this, I was once again hunkered in the closet, this time with Matt AND with Julie and Ralph's two cats.  None of us were happy about being in there.  Once again, we were lucky.  We did lose our electricity for about 24 hours, but we have a generator, so the fridge and the wi-fi were still available.  (As well as a way to charge the small electronics.)   It is unreal to me how often we have been fortunate during storms around here.  This subdivision has been spared major damage in all of the large tornado episodes that have occurred since we've been here.  We moved here in June of 1993, so we've been here 20 years now.  We have decided that we will stop tempting fate, though.  We are going to get a shelter as soon as the current backlog on them clears a bit. 
I think back on all the things that have happened this last two months, and I am so grateful.  Grateful for the good fortune and the protection that kept us and our house safe from the storms, and grateful for the friends near and far who expressed their concern for us.  How good it is to know that as we love, so we are loved.  Also very grateful that we can help our friends when they need our help.   Truly, the atmosphere around these events in Oklahoma has been an amazing gathering of strength and love pouring from and into our community.  People are a little kinder, perhaps a little less short with each other.  Neighbors are precious again.  All little children are looked upon with affection by the rest of the community, because we could have lost them, too.  Our lives are really so very, very fragile.  Storms like this bring that  home all too clearly.  They also bring the response straight from the hearts of so many who came to help, and are still coming. 
Yes, nothing like a little perspective.  I am once again very grateful that on this "Friday Night In The Big Town" as Gary England would say, I am safe in my own house, with my husband, and I know my friends are safe, and I can sit here with my nice drink and my computer and have the luxury of contemplating my life. 
Truly, some of the smallest things, the littlest gestures mean a lot.  So thanks, my friends, just for being there & giving me a hard time once in a  while.  Love you all.
As Ever,
Katie

The Line Of Her Frontage

Be warned.  This is a post about breasts.  Boobs, tits, knockers, whatever you call them, women are often defined by them.  At least in this culture.  Far too often.  I can only relate my own experience in dealing with my own breasts, and the challenges they presented to my self-image.

Since the summer after I turned 14, I have struggled with my image of myself.  My breasts developed rather shockingly and suddenly that summer.  I went from almost flat to a C- cup virtually overnight.  Time and age have increased the size, though my recent weight loss is helping a bit.  I not only had these rather obvious signs of my development to deal with, but they had ugly, angry red stretch marks on them.  It took years for those marks to finally fade.  My relatively flat chested mother didn't quite know how to deal with this development.  She found the most uncomfortable, super-constructed steel reinforced bra she could, and got me measured and strapped into one as soon as possible.  The support was necessary, to help the stretch marks, if nothing else.
I have always been of two minds about my figure.  On one hand, the attention I received suddenly was unwelcome and embarrassing.  I must now fight constantly to keep my shoulders back and not hunch up because of all the years I spent trying to hide my breasts.  See, when I was 14, I was already a bit of a poet, a writer keeping multiple journals, and trying to figure out this zoo we call life.  I was serious, not a boy crazy valley girl like some of my acquaintances.  These breasts got me attention of the WRONG kind.  I wanted to be taken seriously for what I had to say, not for what I looked like.
On the other hand,  I wanted to be proud of my body, wanted to feel that it was becoming desirable and sexy, but I felt my breasts were ugly.  Too floppy, and those stretch marks, ick!.  (I often say I don't fear having "old lady boobs", I've had them since I was 14.  They aren't that bad, but I thought so for years.)
They were also too big.  Though, I look at photos from the time, and they aren't really that out of proportion, but they felt that way to me.  I am built on the small side everywhere else.  (I'm only 5'4")
When I am at my normal weight, I have very little in the way of curves except my breasts.  I have the Clark family tendency to not have much to sit on.  (Why is our family so fidgety?  We have no padding on our backsides.  We'd rather be up and doing something than sitting around being uncomfortable.)
I was just looking for some photos of me at about 14, and not surprisingly, I don't seem to have any.  I remember dreading photos in those days, and avoiding cameras whenever possible.  I do have some from later on, after I developed a little more confidence, but was still self-conscious about my figure.

This photo was made when I was 16, and feeling better about myself because a boy was interested in me, and actually started talking to me about books.  (He was sitting next to me when this picture was made.)  Note that my shoulders are still hunched sort of forward, and my arms placed to sort of hide my chest.
I started having to wear glasses at 16, and I actually welcomed that change, because it gave me something to hide behind.  (I only need them for distance, even still, so I take them off often, as I did for this picture.)  I wear them all the time at work and other places out and about. I feel my glasses have always given me a bit of gravitas, and helped people take me more seriously.  (Except maybe when I wore those really outrageous plastic frames in the '80s.  But then again, everyone did in those days.) When I was a senior in high school, disco was all the rage, and all the OTHER girls could wear cute little strappy disco dresses.  But not me.  My figure would not cooperate wtih that.  So, my prom dress was not all that I wanted it to be.  I survived.  Ended up dancing with my friend Brenda, though, because we had had a disco dance class, and we knew how to dance, but our dates didn't. 

Photo on the right, I was 25 or so, already married, and STILL trying to hide the boobs.  Shoulders rolled forward, arms crossed protectively in front of me.  Also, wearing the first pair of the ugly '80s glasses.  I thought for the longest time that my chest was the ONLY thing about me that some people (especially guys) ever saw.  My husband was one of the few guys in my age group who ever actually looked me in the EYE when he met me.  Knowing him as I do, I am sure he did his share of looking, but he was never obvious about it.  He is often obvious about it NOW, but we ARE married, and well, husbands are allowed certain things that others are not.

I often wore things with high necklines, even when something lower cut would have been more flattering.  I did teach elementary school, and I wanted to keep a certain image, but outside of work, I could have loosened up a little.  I did not, because on the few occasions that I did dress more fashionably, shall we say, the catcalls and comments were more than I wanted to deal with.
 

Here's one from when I was 19.  A bit less self-conscious, but I was concentrating on my little cousin.  I worked at Taco Bell at that time, and had to wear a really form-fitting brown polyester uniform.  I hated it, not just because it was brown and polyester, but because it was so form fitting, I often got unwelcome comments from male customers.  The experience did teach me how to deal with such things, though. I finally got so I could pointedly ignore or joke about such comments, depending on the demeanor of the guy in question.

After I'd been married awhile, I got a lot less self-conscious about my breasts.  I was even kind of proud of them once in a while.  I think part of it was being older, not a girl anymore, looking a little more like someone to take seriously in spite of my figure.  (Also, I had this really muscular red-headed guy with me a lot of the time who was (and is) very protective.)  (Alas, he's not so muscular anymore...)

The photo on the right was made probably in 1987 or so.  That dress at last, one that showed off my curves to my advantage, even if those glasses are horrible!  (But, like I said, everybody had them in the '80s.)

So, I finally decided that I could admit to having this figure, then I gained weight, lost weight, and gained weight again.  I have gone through many years when I just couldn't stand the way I looked, and have finally just NOW gotten enough motivation and support to do something that may well last long term about my weight.  I am following a SENSIBLE diet, and am exercising as much as I can.  Two half hour walks a day lately, but I must start the free weights again or I will still be flabby.

This last photo is one I made a few days ago to celebrate being able to wear that shirt and those jeans again.  I did not have to pin the shirt so it wouldn't gap for the first time since I bought the dang thing.  Yes, it is conservatively snapped up almost to the top, but I was preparing to go to work, and I do work with the public in a fairly small suburb, so I do not want to be provocative in the way I dress.  Want to look neat and at least a little professionally competent. (Add my current owly glasses, and it fits at the library perfectly!)

While I have finally come to accept my figure, I still have some issues about living with these breasts.  The stuff most people who don't have to carry them around all day don't think about.
1) They are HEAVY.  I carry a lot of my total body weight in my bosom.  I still have to wear the steel reinforced bras that have underwires because of the weight of my breasts.  They just are NOT adequately supported by anything less.  (Much as I would LOVE to be able to wear some of the sweet little nothings smaller women can, they make no sense on this body.  These boobs laugh at any bra (other than a strong sports bra) that doesn't have underwires.

2)  They require careful watching.  All women have to do self-examinations and go for regular mammograms to ensure they catch any changes before they become serious.  For those of us with larger breasts, those exams are more difficult.  At least mine are fairly "squishy" , so I can feel all the usual lumps and bumps and know where they are and if they change,  but going for a mammogram just always brings back that  odd old expression about having 'a tit in the wringer'.  (Not so odd if you remember wringer washing machines, which I do, but just barely.)

3)  They cause marks on your body.  Because of them being so heavy, and having to wear the types of bras I do, I have permanent ruts in my shoulders from straps, and indentations around my torso from where the band sits.  Some of the permanent lumps in my breasts are likely cysts that were caused by the tops of the under wires irritating the tissue for so many years.  Or so my GYN nurse practitioner says.  The cysts have been there since before my first mammogram, and have not changed ever.

4) They are often inconvenient.  I have knocked things off of shelves while trying to reach something on a higher shelf.  Cleavage can also become a catch-all of things that fall on their way to your mouth.  Cleaning crumbs out of the cleavage is one reason for scurrying off to the ladies room after a meal.  Lying on your stomach is not as comfortable as you would like it to be.   Backaches and habitual bad posture are often a side effect of a large bust.  I still have to force myself to sit and stand with my shoulders back to prevent back and shoulder pain, and to keep from becoming permanently round-shouldered. 

Perhaps there will always be things about my figure that upset me, but for the most part, I have made peace with it.  As long as I can continue to lose weight and get back to my normal healthy weight, I will be very happy with my figure indeed.  One nice thing about getting older is the absence of the cat-calls I used to get, but it makes me a bit wistful, too.  Not that I no longer get appreciative glances, but they are far more rare. (Or perhaps by the time guys reach this age, they've learned to be a LOT less obvious.  At least, most of them have.)

At any rate, these days, since I have gotten below 150 pounds, finally, I note that I feel proud of myself when I stride out on my walks every day.  I enjoy the way I look for the most part.  Now, if I could just keep my face from getting all jowly and wrinkly...

Here is a recent picture.  The weight loss has given me back a waistline.  I am trying to be proud of myself these days, and not so self-conscious.

Our House Is Now Catless

Once again our house is without cats.  Our friends have found a place to rent while their house is rebuilt, and our little refugees went home with their rightful owners this evening.  I will miss them.  I will NOT miss cleaning up the litter  box five or six times a day. I will miss Peabody "talking" to us, and Lulu telling us it's time to go to bed already, but I will NOT miss being walked on all night, and awakened at 4 am every single day for some reason known only to Lulu.

There's Lulu in the window in my office.  I will miss seeing a kitty in my window once in a while.
They have really been pretty good house guests.  They have entertained us, and challenged us, and given us a precious gift.  A way to help our friends out in a tough situation.  Knowing the cats were safe and happy with us meant a lot, I know, while Ralph and Julie were looking for a place to live. 

Here's Mr. Peabody lounging on our bed.  That's a queen-size bed, by the way.  And he isn't even really stretched out.  Imagine sharing that bed with him, another human, and Lulu, and you will see why I haven't been sleeping too well lately.  (Not just the excess Diet Coke I've been consuming.)

I really will miss them, but the good news is, I can go visit them.  And I don't have to clean the litter box.  Maybe some day there will be another kitty that needs to be ours, but not just yet.  We know we will never have a dog as good as Bear, and it hurts too much still to think about another dog, but another cat might be okay.  Someday.  Still won't be Skye, but might still like Opera.  Mr. Peabody does.  He came running for almost any Mozart I sang, not just the one aria Skye always loved.
Well, it's late, and even though Lulu isn't here telling me so, I know it's time to head for bed.
Hope all is well and happy in your worlds tonight.
As Ever,
Katie

Just Another Manic Monday...

My alarm went off in plenty of time, I even got up early enough.  Went kinda downhill from there, though. 
On my walk, my phone would NOT behave.  Pandora kept cutting out,so I switched to Amazon mp3 player, playing songs stored on phone, still cuts out.  Endomondo, my distance tracker, went berzerk and about doubled my distance for some unknown reason, so I just gave up and walked unmonitored (except by my faithful Fitbit) and in silence.  Miss Bear more when I walk without the music.  Keep listening for his tags, or his toenails on the pavement. 
Got to my voice lesson only to discover that they are working on my teacher's street, and getting in and out is a real challenge.  Made it all right.  Her door was shut, and I had to wait for her to let me in .  Problem with that was mosquitoes, and one of the kind I am allergic to managed to bite me.  Thank God for the Benadryl cream I carry.
  My lesson was challenging and fun.  There is a recital on Sunday evening, and I am not so sure Karen and I will survive that aria she wants me to sing.  It's a marathon for both of us.  The duet with Adria will be beautiful, as long as I keep count properly.  I am also learning two Gilbert and Sullivan pieces.  Now Poor Wand'ring One is stuck in my ear and I can't get it out.

Off to the commissary, where I manage to stick pretty close to my list and come in under budget, but without a few items.  I had walk to the corner store after I got home and got everything put away because one of the half-gallons of milk I bought evidently hadn't been sealed properly.  It had leaked in the shopping bag, and to top it off, had gone bad.  Had to clean off all the other stuff in the bag with it, then wash the bag.  (One of my good thermal re-usable bags.)  SO, I walked to the store, bought the milk, some bananas and some strawberries.  $8. 66 worth, and walked home.  Got the strawberries cleaned and put away, came in here to rest and check Twitter for a few minutes, then had to go start dinner. 
Gee, such a thrilling day. 
Actually, it is.  It is a lot better than the last Monday when I went to the commissary.  Monday, May 20.  That day, I barely got the groceries put away before I had to go hide in the closet and hope for the best.  Took my husband Matt five hours to find a way home around the damage that day.  My friend lost her house that day.  Our poor little city suffered a setback such as it had not seen in 14 years. We lost our hospital, some good people, two schools, far too many children, and lots of things.

Our own house survived, and so did both of us.  The groceries I bought and put away that day survived to be used, at least for the most part.  Some of them were canned goods that are still causing trouble in the pantry.  Some of the frozen meat remains to be used yet.  We are eating a lot less these days, and last month was the first grocery shopping trip since we started the serious dietary changes.

As I sat huddled alone in that closet, I wasn't really alone.  I had my phone with me, and was tweeting about the storm with various people.  My sweet friend Fiona in Australia was especially worried about me, and she was the first one I tweeted to let her know that storm had passed and I was OK.  I messaged my brother on Face Book, and he let our family know.  Even some of the celebrities I follow asked how I was doing.  Rather surreal, actually.  To think how small the world has become because of our electronic devices. I also had a librarian friend in England checking on me regularly.  It helped me greatly to have these messages from afar on that day.  To know other people were out there and caring about what happened to me, even though I was all alone in the closet, I had company.  (Thanks, guys.  I know some of you read this blog once in awhile.  It means a lot.  You mean a lot to me.  Not always easy for me to say that to people, even though I daresay most of the ones I love know it.)

So, on this Manic Monday, when one of my favorite celebrities followed another fan, and I had so much to do, I am grateful for a quiet dinner in my own house, with my husband home at his usual time, and my girlfriend's cats (tornado refugees) all here making this place a happy home.

Yeah, any time I got too bothered by all the stuff I had to do today, I just remembered the 20th of May, and today felt one hell of a lot better.   Here's hoping Friday night is quiet, too.
As Ever,
Katie

For I am done with excitement
Tired of alarms and stresses
I could use a little abatement
Of the weather's excesses.

Some Thoughts on a Friday Night

"Friday Night in the Big Town!"  Gary England always says.  Yeah, well, Moore isn't really a big town.  It's a nice little suburb, and full of great people, has a fabulous theater, a Harley Davidson dealership, and a wonderful library.  (And lots of other shops and parks and restaurants, but you get the idea.) 
Oklahoma City is considered "the Big Town" around here.  To  a girl who grew up in the suburbs of Los Angeles County, it's not so big, either.  A few Friday nights when I was in high school, (in the late 70's when things were pretty wild), my friends and I used to gas up Kathy's old Delta 88 and head to Hollywood for "Hollywood Boulevard Safari."  That's what we called cruising Hollywood Boulevard.  We had rules.  All doors must remain locked and all windows rolled up for the entire cruise.  There was to be no interacting with the nightlife, we were only there to observe.  And observe we did.  Drag queens so fabulous, the women looked less like women than they did, generally funky people out ambling around, the odd cop or two questioning people.  We never told our parents where we were going.  We'd all still be grounded if we had.  We lived in a nice middle class suburb in the San Gabriel Valley called Hacienda Heights.  Our school's band and football team won all kinds of state titles the four years my friends and I were attending.  At least four of us were in the Shakespeare Club at school, and all of us were Honor Roll students.  Going out to cruise Hollywood Blvd. was our only real vice.  None of us had boyfriends that year, so we had fun being "just us girls."

The kids around here think cruising 12th Street in Moore is a big deal.  I don't get it.  Nothing interesting to see here, certainly nowhere near the entertainment value of our forays into Hollywood.  Yet, for YEARS the kids in this state would come from all over to cruise 12th Street.  The cops have pretty much put an end to it, well, their presence and the much higher price of gas these days.  Neighbors have told us of being unable to leave the subdivision for the traffic on cruise nights, and the NOISE was something awful.  Thankfully, the cruising had been pretty well shut down before we moved here.
These days, my Friday night is seldom more than a chance to really relax and not worry too much about how late I happen to stay up writing.  I do have to watch the clock tonight, though.  I have to get up and get the weeding and mowing done before it gets too stinking hot tomorrow.  The yard looks disgraceful.

On another tangent; our quest to lose weight and be healthier is going pretty well.   Matt is back in size 36 slacks, and I am back in my size 10 jeans.  It is hard to log everything we eat and all the exercise we do, but worth it.  Both of our recent blood tests have come back with excellent results.  Matt has even been taken off one of the heart medications they put him on since he has done so well losing weight and keeping his blood pressure in control.  I am proud to say that I take no prescription medications at this time.  My numbers were all really good, and the doctor knows my high blood pressure readings in the clinic are white coat hypertension.  (I had a very bad experience in an emergency room as a young child, and hospitals and doctor's offices have freaked me out, at least on a subconscious level, ever since. )  I have to really concentrate on my breathing and relaxing myself to get a near normal reading in a clinical setting.  My numbers here at home have been going down as my weight goes down.
It makes me feel good to be able to wear clothes I haven't fit in for a long time.  I also need to start my workout with free weights again, as I need to strengthen my muscles and prevent bone loss.  I know I will never recapture my lost youth, but I think I look pretty good, and I'll settle for looking good for my age and being healthy.  Very excited that Matt is starting to look like the man I married again instead of a much too heavy man.


To start yet another topic, I am so far behind on the books I want to read that it isn't even remotely amusing.  I have several things on my Nook that I really do want to read, but I keep getting distracted.  Maybe now that the weather is settling down, and life around here is settling back to something like normal, I'll be able to concentrate on my reading again.  I have been  reading, but have had to backtrack and re-read a lot because my mind wanders off in the middle of things.  Not that the books are not interesting and engrossing, just that my ability to concentrate hasn't been too great lately.  Have also been distracted by trying to catch up with some movies and TV shows that I have not been able to watch.  Netflix is a wonderful thing, but boy, you can sure overdose on it if you aren't careful.  I try to save stationary chores like ironing for the times I want to watch say, Sons of Anarchy,  so I won't be so inclined to watch more than I can absorb in one sitting.  There is a lot going on in that show that is not immediately apparent.  Layers upon layers.  My husband doesn't like it, says it glorifies outlaws, but he hasn't really watched it, I don't think.  I do know there used to be a motorcycle club that hung out across the street from where he bought his house in San Bernardino.  They were pretty small-time, and mostly pretty amusing, but I didn't hang out with them too much, only with Saundra, who ran the Star Trek fan club we belonged to.  (Yes, a biker chick who liked Star Trek, they DO exist.)  In fact, I think it was Saundra who told Matt he really ought to ask me out.  His Mom was in the club, too, and SHE actually introduced us to each other.  (Yeah, my mother in law wrote sci-fi stories and sometimes called herself "Granny Space".  She was a good writer, had a wonderful sense of humor, and I really miss her.)

Anyway, that and the dread of the hot, humid hours I must spent dealing with weeds and grass tomorrow are what has been rattling around in my brain this evening.  Hope everybody has a great weekend.
As Ever,
Katie 

Let Me Be Worthy

Let me be worthy
Of the task I face.
My heart kind enough
My will strong enough
My mind resourceful enough
To let them know I really care
To find them the help they need
So they can find some solace
In the sea of loss and grief.

Let me be worthy
Of the love of friends
And neighbors
Who care for me
As I work to help the wounded
Who find their way to us.
Help all of us,
Some dealing with losses
Of their own,
As we serve our wounded
Community
Trying to make things better
Trying to ease their minds
Perhaps offer a distraction
From destruction.

Let me be worthy
Of being saved from the storm
My home, my family and myself
Whole,
But still hurting
For the town we love
For the people we lost
Especially the little ones
Who used to come in
And ask for our help.
For coworkers who have lost
Homes and possessions
Yet still come to work
So they can help others.

Let me be worthy
To be a part of this community
To love my neighbors,
Work for the common good,
To be worthy of the coworkers
Who make my job such a joy.
To let others know
They matter to me
They matter a lot.

Poems Again

Every now and then, I need to commit poetry.  You don't have to read it, but I have to write it.

Strength
C.K. Armistead 6/14/13
As the days wear on
And things are still broken
The wear and tear on
Some hearts still unspoken

Some try to be strong
They hold the grief at bay
But after so long
It needs the light of day.

What can I be, then
For them to rely on?
I find this one a pen
Give the other a shoulder
to cry on.

It's my privilege to be
In a place where I can provide
Small things for them to see
It's going to be all right.

Some days it has been hard
Not to cry with them
Over baby pictures found in the yard
Or the loss of a friend.

 So very difficult not to cry
With a little girl and her mother
She lost her library books at school
But she got out alive .

Or the older man who
Lost 45 years worth of memories
In one afternoon
But worried about his library books.

All I can do is help where I can
Make fines go away
Maybe hold their hand
And always, I find that I say
"But we are SO glad that YOU'RE still here."

As long as we're alive
There's hope.
It will take time.
But we are strong, we can cope.
We will rebuild our town,
And our hearts
Together.



The Broken Pieces

C.K. Armistead 6/14/13

Most of town
Looks just fine.
Where there was just debris,
It has been picked up
Windows are being washed
Damaged cars replaced.
There are still
Whole neighborhoods of grief.
Tumbled masses of what was left
Of several families' memories.
Those are beginning to be cleared as well
Trucks are moving constantly
All through town.
Taking the broken pieces
Away so we can be healed.
Still there is at least one room
I know of
Full of battered memories.
Boxes of them.
Faces I don't know
Look out from muddied
Photographs
Hoping to see
Their loved ones again.
Kind hands are coming
To clean the muddied faces
And put them online
So those loved ones
Can claim them.
There are also scars
Less visible to the eye.
Broken pieces of our hearts
That cause us to cry
For no visible reason.
Even if our own homes are whole,
Many of us lost
Places dear to us.
Homes of friends,
The pub,
Even the hospital we relied on.
Gone.
We hurt for our friends
And neighbors
Some moved away
At least until houses are rebuilt.
And I had the sad task
Of deleting the library record
Of a sweet man
Who died on May 20th.
One more broken piece
Jabbing at my heart.

Ten Women Who Influenced My World View

Since last Saturday's Ten Guys Who Influenced My Worldview posts, I have been toying with the Ten Women list.  Here's what I've come up with, in no particular order.

Elizabeth I  of England   Because she ruled on her own terms, something completely unheard of in those days.  She was a "liberated woman" long before the term was coined.   Also, she established the Church of England as we know it today, and the liturgy we follow in the Anglican Communion is founded on what was developed under her tenure as head of the church.

Dorothy L. Sayers  She wrote many plays and theological works as well as her famous Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries.  I really enjoy the Lord Peter and Harriet Vane stories.  All are well-plotted and intricately wrought.  They are enjoyable and they make you think.  The Nine Taylors is about my favorite, even though Harriet is not in it.  Change ringing figures in this one, and it is an interesting and exacting pursuit.

Anne Lamott   I enjoy her books about her journey with her faith, but Bird By Bird is the one that influenced me most.  Her approach to writing as something that is both difficult and necessary spoke to me.  "My writer friends, and they are legion, do not go around beaming with quiet feelings of contentment.  Most of them go around with haunted,  abused, surprised looks on their faces, like lab dogs on whom very personal deodorant sprays have been tested.
My students do not want to hear this. "  But it is the truth, and she tells it anyway.

Frances Mayes  Not for her famous books about life in Tuscany, though I thoroughly enjoyed those, but for her book The Discovery of Poetry.  It is full of useful insights, exercises, and readings that make you think and feel before you actually write.  It has been a very useful book for me, and I return to it often.

Alice Alfonsi  As Cleo Coyle, she has written a series of cozy mysteries that are very entertaining, and through that series, The Coffeehouse Mysteries, she has taught me how to properly prepare coffee, and to learn to really enjoy it.  I always lamented that coffee never tasted as good as it smells.  Now I know, thanks to Alice Alfonsi, how to prepare coffee that tastes as good as it smells.  I have also learned to love her characters and hope there are MANY more adventures to come for them.  She and her husband also write the Haunted Bookshop Mysteries as Alice Kimberly.  I am really looking forward to the next one of those, too.  Cozy meets hardboiled  mystery, all in the same novel.  Great fun!

Because of her work on Star Trek the Original Series, D.C. Fontana influenced my world view because of the influence she wielded on that show.  She wrote or co-wrote many of the very best episodes.  Her vision helped keep Mr. Roddenberry's vision consistent and true to itself for all of us.

Quindella Hunter  Ms. Hunter was my sixth grade teacher.  She had rheumatoid arthritis that caused her some major discomfort and some minor difficulties in getting around.  Still, she showed up at school every day, and gave us her best effort.  She had the most beautiful penmanship I have ever seen, even though her hands were slightly disfigured by the arthritis.  She never, ever complained.  She used wit, and her love of baseball to teach us.  We learned about statistics during the world series that year, when her beloved Oakland A's were playing.  We listened to the games and kept score.  It was the only time I had fun doing math.  She expected our best effort, always.  She encouraged my writing and my drawing.  She made me my own reading group because my abilities at reading and comprehending were pretty advanced for that school district in Compton, California.  (I had read all my Mom's Agatha Christie mysteries the summer before sixth grade.  I tested well above grade level from 3rd grade on.)  She also encouraged my singing.  She talked me into trying out for Glee Club, and through that Glee Club I got to learn a lot about Gospel singing and blending with other singers.
From her I learned the power of perseverance, and the value of always giving every task your best effort.  She was funny, and loved to joke with us.  I wanted to teach because of her.

Tallulah Bankhead  Not just because she sometimes haunts me and makes me sound like her when I have a cold, but because she was always true to herself.  She did not behave the way "ladies" were supposed to behave.  She was outrageous,  a genuine Southern Character who made it big in the big city.  She was beautiful and witty.  I am honored that she sometimes comes to"haunt" me.

Lessie Ruth McMullen  My big sister.  This picture is from about 1975 or so.  I was about 15, so Susie, as we call her (for no good reason at all), was about 28.  She is still my big sister, and still bosses me around, and always wants to know what I'm up to.  She encouraged me to try new things, took me to interesting places, and let me be myself.  I still get to see her about once a year, when we go do the yard work at Mom's house.  It isn't a fun trip, but we usually manage to have fun while we're at it.

Sarah Eugenia Clark  My Mom.  The lady on the right in this photo.  She and I spent almost every single day alone together for the first five years of my life.  Of course she had a profound influence on my world view.  To this day I can trace many of my unreasonable fears and dislikes to Mom.  (I don't like driving, which is weird for a kid who grew up in L.A., and I don't travel well, another Mom thing.  )  I also read voraciously, like Mom STILL does, even though she is 89 and has cataracts.

Those are ten.  Here are two more I must include:

Canon Susan Joplin  The first woman priest in an Episcopal church that I got to know personally.  Susan is a very caring and dedicated priest.  She is musical, also.  She plays the harp.  She has been there for Matt and I in some very tough times, and it is always a joy to see Mother Susan.  She is also a fan of Anne Lamott, and she likes the same murder  mystery series that I do.

Marilyn Robertson , Deacon and parish nurse.  Marilyn is a full time nurse.  She is an ordained Deacon in the Episcopal Church, also and serves as our Parish Nurse.  She is very dedicated to her work both as a nurse and as our deacon.  Always there to encourage us, she has been a big source of moral support for Matt and I as we pursue our healthier lifestyle as mandated by Matt's diabetes and high blood pressure.  (Both of which are nicely under control now.)  Marilyn is active on Face Book and cheers us both on as we post our progress. 

It Started as a Twitter Hashtag...

A friend of mine posted a list of Ten Guys That Influenced My Worldview yesterday.  I took up the challenge and compiled my list and posted them.  Then I got to thinking.  There were a few important guys I left out.  There are also at least ten women whose ideas and work have influenced my world view, too.  Time to put on the thinking cap and give some credit where credit is due. 
First, here's the list I put on Twitter:
Ten Guys Who Influenced My Worldview:

Charles A. Clark, Sr.  My Pop.  First man in my life, and the one I tried hardest not to disappoint.

His eyes were an amazing shade of blue.  (A certain actor we all know has eyes that color...)

Bishop Steven Charleston.  He was interim Dean at our cathedral, St. Paul's Episcopal Cathedral in OKC.  He has written two books made up of his daily Face Book meditations.  They are very powerful books.  The daily meditations are straight from his heart, and they speak volumes about the relationship between humans and God and humans and each other.  Hope As Old As Fire, and Cloud Walking, both available at redmoonpublications.com  The man himself influenced our whole congregation with his joy in serving God and God's people, and his intensity, and his enthusiasm.  He became one of us very quickly. 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.  The rhythm of his poetry spoke to me from an early age.  I never had to memorize any of the famous epic poems, but smaller ones, like The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls got themselves into my head and got me started wanting to play around with words myself.

Vincent Van Gogh  One look at one of his paintings, and you know that this man had a unique vision.  He shared what he could of that vision with us using remarkable colors and brushstrokes to give us a glimpse of sublime beauty that goes beyond ordinary reality. 

Michael M. Ornstein  Because he reminded me of the power of art, and spurred me to write more.  He is generous to his fans on Twitter, and responds honestly to honest comments.  He has reminded me that I have something worthwhile to say, and given me the courage to try.

You can see his art at michaelornstein.com

William Shakespeare  If anyone in Western culture today can claim NOT to be influenced by Shakespeare, I'd love to see them prove it.  His influence is all pervasive.  His works are so much a part of our common frame of reference that even those who aren't aware they know any quotes from Shakespeare quote him regularly.  For me, Taming of the Shrew in almost every staging I have seen of it is sublimely funny.  The one play I have seen performed live was As You Like It.  I got to see that one in San Diego, California at the Old Globe Theater that they had built there precisely to  duplicate Shakespeare's theater.  It was home to the annual Shakespeare Festival. 
And of course, as all Beauty and the Beast fans know, Shakespeare knew everything!

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart  Ah, his music is divine.  I love to listen to it, I really love to sing it, even though it is hard work to do so properly.  My voice tends to love the pieces he wrote for lyric soprano, and one of the best recital performances I ever gave was singing his Vedrai Carino from Don Giovanni. 
His music feeds my soul.

Gene Roddenberry, because he dared to dream of humanity united and exploring the stars.  And he took us with him! 
Star Trek opened so many vistas of human possibility for me.  Made me try to think about things from more than one point of view.  Star Trek made all of us look to the stars with hope and wonder, and the desire to learn more.

Ron Perlman, because he has brought so many unusual characters to life and made us believe in them, made us feel we knew them, and made us care about them. 
He is a very good actor.  He is also very funny.  People who are genuinely funny are important to me, because laughter is very healing, and this world needs all the healing it can get.  He banters with fans on Twitter sometimes, and that always makes me smile, and sometimes laugh out loud.

Matthew D. Armistead  The one I married.  The first guy in my age group who looked me in the EYE when he was introduced to me.  A man who loves me in spite of all my weirdness and moodiness, and staying up till all hours writing habits.   The man who has a sense of humor almost as warped as my own.  His sense of duty and service to others and his country impressed me.  I am proud of all the many things he has learned to do and has done for others in his life.  He is also musical, being possessed of a lovely, evil, dark baritone voice.  He was practically raised in the Panama Canal Zone's Theatre Guild.  He has stage managed many plays, acted in a few, and done everything from set construction to property management to running the lighting and sound equipment.  I have seen him overcome obstacles set for him by his own body with far more patience and perseverance than I would ever be able to muster.  He is still my hero, my Knight In Smelly Flight Suit, my Matthew.

OK, those were the ones I put in the top ten list.  Some others I should include are:

Robert Burns.  When I discovered in my youth that we had some Scottish genes in our heritage, I set about learning about Scotland and the Scots.  Robert Burns poetry is a big part of that.  His songs and ballads, such as Ae Fond Kiss,  My Luve Is Like A Red, Red, Rose,  and Afton Water are all favorites of mine.  I learned to hear the dialect in my head when reading his words, and it all began to make sense. 

George Back  The man on the right, our former dean, now retired.  (The guy on the left is our current dean, Justin Lindstrom, and he hasn't had enough time to influence my world view too much just yet...) 
George is all heart.  His love is something that was always just poured out on our congregation.  His steadfast love and optimism during the aftermath of the Murrah building bombing in 1995 is what helped all of us continue in love and faith to get through the rebuilding after that horrendous event.

Edgar Alan Poe  Master of the macabre, weaver of wonderful stories and poems that were just magical.  One of my earliest reading memories is reading The Raven aloud with my Mom.  We also read The Gold Bug together when I was in grade school. 

Of course, no list is complete without Dr. King.  I remember so clearly the day he died.  They were afraid for our safety and sent us home from school early.  One of my classmates' mother knew that my Mom was walking to meet me, but she said  she'd take me to my mom, so I got in the car with her and my classmate.  This lady was African-American, and a minister at her small church.  She had been crying, and she told us "This world has just gone crazy, children.  But we still have to love one another."  She dropped me off when we saw my mom walking on her way to the school.  This lady and my mom had worked together in the PTA.  Doctor King's words live on, and they still inspire us to remember that only love can drive out hate.

Rich Rosenfeld, seen here with his wife Stephanie, who also influenced my world view.  Rich was our chaplain at Rhein-Main Air Base.  He led what he described as "where almost no one has ever gone before"  the 08:30 Protestant Liturgical Service.  (aka the Metholuthepiscoterian Rite.)  Rich and his love of music and bad puns made for some very interesting chapel services.  He and Stephanie and their son David are steadfast friends, always living the faith they profess.  And doing so with a song and good humor!  They introduced us to Black Adder, and to 'Allo, 'Allo. ( For this last we shall have to send them the cracked vase with big daisies and the Madonna with the Big Boobies rolled up and hidden inside a shipment of Knockwurst...)
And don't drop the Christmas Puddings!


The next blog post will be for the 10 Women (plus a few extras) Who Have Influenced My Worldview.  

One of Life's Greatest Pleasures

...Is the laughter of friends.  How good it was to hear my friends laughing together this evening.  Four of our good friends were with us for dinner this evening, after they had spent the afternoon helping Matt clean out our garage so the drywall can be replaced.  Matt smoked a bunch of ribs, and a beef top blade roast.  He also made baked beans and cole slaw.  All these dishes were diabetic and hypertensive friendly.  Nancy brought angel food cake and sliced strawberries, and I had made some brown sugar shortbread last night. 
This was an evening much needed by all of us.  It is good to put the recent troubles with the weather and its aftereffects aside and just enjoy each other's company.  Mike and Nancy got a glimpse of why I think my job is so much fun.  They finally got to hear Julie tell her stories.  Julie cracks me up.  She always has.  I can't believe it has been more than 14 years now that we have worked together.  Seems like only yesterday that I started at the library, and Julie was the one doing most of my training. 
Julie and Ralph got a chance to know Mike and Nancy and the joy they bring with them everywhere they go.  Those two have a very healing presence.  It just feels good to spend time with them.  We all have old in jokes between us, and sharing the stories behind them is great fun. 
It was good to see Ralph smile and to hear Julie laugh.  I know they still have a lot to get through, but I think they'll come out just fine.  Matt and I will help all we can.  Mike and Nancy will, too.  Mike and Nancy know all about loss and grieving, whether it's the loss of a home or of a loved one, it hurts.  In some ways, the material loss is harder, because it doesn't feel right to grieve it when so many actually did lose loved ones. 
I am humbled and honored to have such people call me their friend.  They all mean a great deal to me, and Mike and Nancy have been through a LOT with Matt and I.  Julie has been through a lot at the library with me.  So good to have such loving, knowledgeable, and funny companions on this journey. 

The thunder is rumbling outside again tonight.  I hope it doesn't trouble Ralph and Julie too much.  This whole area is weary of storms.  Even when they aren't severe.  There is so much work to do that the rain makes more difficult.  The sunny skies earlier today were a great boon to everyone's spirits. 

I am very grateful for all the good things in my life, but most especially for the friends that make this life so much more pleasant.
As Ever,
Katie

There Is A Lot Less Of Me To Love...

Since my husband's recent hospital adventure, and discovering that he has seriously high blood pressure and is diabetic, we have BOTH been watching our diets and exercising more.  It is finally easier for me to stick to a diet without SOMEBODY sabotaging me.  For him it is a matter of life and death, for me, a matter of pride.  I want to be as thin as I was when he married me.  I want to look as good as I can, and be as healthy as I can. 
My goal is to weigh 125 pound again, like I did in this picture.

His goal is to get back to the weight HE was in this picture, and to get his medications decreased because of the weight loss. 
Neither of us will be as smooth of skin as we are in this picture, this picture was made in 1990.  A lot of time and experiences have passed since then.  I also have a LOT less hair, because I cut it all off a few years ago because I was just plain tired of messing with it.
I have about 27 pounds to go.  I've lost 16 pounds since January, more than 8 of it in the last month. I can wear clothes now that haven't fit me for MONTHS.  I am very glad I kept them.  Some of my favorites among my newer jeans now require a belt, and some may be just plain too big now.  I got into a pair of size 10 jeans yesterday that I haven't been able to wear since the last Star Trek movie came out.  (That's the last time I remember wearing them before this.)  I have an absolutely beautiful green dress with a velvet bodice and a chiffon skirt that I want to fit once again.  When I can wear it again, I will proudly post a photo.  (I hope to get a good portrait of me in it, without my glasses, because they reflect the flash too much.)  It has literally been years since I have been able to wear the dress, and I love it. 
To accomplish our goals, we have changed the way we eat, including more fresh fruits and vegetables, and using sugar substitutes in some things simply because Matt shouldn't have the sugar.  (I have to watch it, though, my digestion rebels at too much Splenda.)  I also have gone back to the way I learned to cook, when I had to cook for my Pop, who had to limit his salt intake.  I use Lite Salt, or Mrs. Dash instead of regular salt.  In some things, I still use Sea Salt, or Kosher Salt, because of the flavor profile, but I use less. 
We are also having a bit of a competition about the number of steps we take each day.  So far, I am beating the pants off him, because I take two walks most days, and I walk a LOT in my job.  Circulation is not sedentary.  We are constantly on the move, emptying book drops, moving full carts around, sometimes shelving books or roaming the stacks doing reports, and going back and forth from the desk to the copiers and the self checkouts, and the automated book drop.  I also stand to check in, and I have developed my own little "checkin dance" that I do moving between the bin, the checkin antenna, and the carts we sort the books on.  There is usually music playing in the work area, so this makes it easy for me to get LOTS of steps in. 
I also spend a lot of time walking from one end of this house to the other, doing whatever chores are ongoing on any particular day.   
We both wear a FitBit tracker that tracks our steps, and monitors the number of times we wake at night.  He does better at sleeping than I do, but then again, I AM a "woman of a certain age", and I do have a tropical heat wave of my very own that seeks me out at inopportune moments.  (Like when I'm trying to sleep.)
We are both also using LoseIt!  a free app that we have on our cell phones.  Makes it easy to log our exercise and our food.  You can even scan barcodes on the packages of what you eat, and it will enter the nutritional information in the app for you.
So far, Matt has probably dropped more weight than I have, but he had more to lose, and he has been eating a LOT less than he used to.  Strangely enough, he finds what he does eat very satisfying, and the difference in how he feels is even more satisfying.  (Personally, I am glad to be able to get closer to him than I have been able to lately.  ;-> )
I have a lot less trouble from my various arthritic joints now that my weight is down.  This will get even better as I approach my goal weight.  My recent checkup revealed that my cholesterol is lower now than it has ever been, and everything else looks really good,too.  (Now, if the follow up mammogram next week show that the suspicious cyst has gone away or gotten smaller, things will be perfect.) My blood pressure is also going down as my weight does.
We are very glad we had not gotten rid of our old clothes before we started this adventure.  I had cleaned out the closet, and had the clothes in the car ready to go to the veteran's charity collection point, but pulled out the barely-worn stuff in the smaller sizes once we started losing weight.  Good thing I did, or Matt would have NO pants that fit at all.
This is working very well so far, I hope we can continue on to our goals and then maintain them long term.  That is the hard part.  Once you get to your goal weight, it is entirely too easy to slack off and gain everything back and then some.  I've done it more than once in my life.
I'll check back in here on my progress after I lose a bit more.  I also promised myself that soon I will order a pair of Boot Campaign boots as a reward for losing and keeping off the first 10 pounds.  Should happen soon.  (I hope.)

Poetry Experiments

Hiding.
C.K. Armistead
June 5, 2013

Behind the smile
Can you see the tears?
Beyond the wiles
I have used all these years.

Be a lady, be charming
Smile, always smile
Deep thoughts are alarming
And seldom in style.

But the thoughts are there
Drawing me to ponder
The truth of the face I wear
And luring me with wonder.

I am a lady, I am charming
I do smile, and gladly
My thoughts are not alarming
Nor do they pass sadly.

I can see now that there
Is more to everyone
Than the faces we wear
So easily undone.

We all wear a mask
To hide truths that we fear
When the better task
Would be to show the tears.



Oklahoma Spring

C.K. Armistead June5, 2013

When the sun is shining
And the air is sweet
The sky is the most beautiful
And life feels complete.
 Then the clouds will gather
And the thunder will be heard
And we all will wonder
If tornadoes will appear.
 You learn right quick
On this prairie plain
What's really important
And what's just a game.
 Houses can be rebuilt
Lost things replaced
Good neighbors and friends
Are better than gold.
 It's not the beauty of this place
That makes us want to stay
Not the low cost of living
We don't think of it that way.
 The reason we're still here
Has more to do with love
With grit and perseverance
And faith in God above.
 Even those who don't believe
Are welcome in this place
For we love our neighbors
Regardless of race or creed.
 And when the storms are over
We come out and set to work
Rebuilding lives and memories
Glad to see each other well.

The Things I Took With Me

The stuff I grabbed to put in the closet with us and Julie's cats on Friday night probably says something about me.  What exactly, I'm not sure.  You be the judge.

I was wearing my favorite (and I think lucky) T- shirt, called "Blue Sweater" by Michael M. Ornstein.

My "lucky shirt."

I grabbed my broken cross pendant and Matt's grandma's wedding ring, the earrings my folks gave me, every single pin and/or Christmas ornament that my friend Julie ever made for me, and my "thistle-heart" earrings.  I was already wearing all the rings I always wear, the ones Matt has given me on special days.  (Wedding and engagement rings, Claddagh ring he gave me right before we left for Germany, and the Black Hills Gold ring he bought me while we were at Rhein-Main, for our 8th anniversary, I think.)
I grabbed the usual financial papers, car titles, insurance documents, our birth certificates, etc.

I grabbed every thumb drive I own and crammed them in my purse, which I wore with the strap across my body like I do when out shopping.  Of course, I had my cell phone, BOTH my e-reader/tablets, and my laptop, all the charging cables for all of those, and the cable, etc. for my FitBit.  (Also threw my little camera in my computer bag.)
Matt had all his small electronics, his medicines, meters, the good digital 35mm camera, and his laptop.
There is a first aid kit that lives in that closet precisely because we shelter in it.  Alas, I was out of D-cell batteries, so if the big flashlights had died, we'd have been in for it.  Those two flashlights are on either side of the bed, and we grab those when we head for the closet.

We also discovered that a Christmas gift I bought for Matt purely on a whim was one of the most useful things I've ever bought.  It was a collection of small LED lamps, all sizes.  There is one that looks like a miniature camp lantern,  and it puts out quite a bit of light.  There are also two little "headlamps" with straps to wear on your forehead.  (More useful than you would believe in a pitch dark house with two frightened cats underfoot.) The two battery powered candles I bought for Christmas decorations this last year also made nice little lights for the bathrooms when the power was out.  Just enough light to figure out where you were without stubbing toes on doors and door frames.

The reason I grabbed all the pins Julie has made over the years is that they are true works of art.  I would not forgive myself if I lost one of Julie's creations.  Especially as right now, she doesn't have a studio to work in. 
 Some of these pins are miniatures of collage/paintings she has made, others are reductions of some art I own copies of that she made wearable for me.  I treasure these pins, and have them hanging on a ribbon on the wall so I can enjoy them when they are not being worn.

 I will try to find the pictures of the Christmas ornaments.  They are also pins and/or pendants, and are all original collage/paintings that she makes reduced images of for the ornaments.  She is very worried right now because if they don't find a place soon so she can set up a studio area, she won't get her Christmas cards or her ornaments made.  She was also working on a memorial piece for a good friend of Matt's and mine who lost her daughter last year.  The tornado took all the pieces she had set out of that piece.

Here are the Christmas ornaments that I have pictures of:

These are in no particular order, but you can see how detailed, and how beautiful they are.  I would have been heartbroken if I had lost them.

Some of the things that are precious to me are far too large to put in a shelter or a closet.  They are things I have had since I was a child.  My piano, which my parents bought for me in 1967 when I started lessons, and has been to Germany and back with us, and the hope chest my Pop made for me with wood from an old table we used to have, the lid is made from an old headboard that my parents used, and it is lined in cedar planks.  (It also has the majority of our bed linen in it.)  Pop made the hope chest for my 16th birthday.
I guess when faced with having to make quick choices, we grab the light stuff.  I didn't even think to put the wedding album in the closet, but I do have many of those photos scanned and on one of the thumb drives I had with me.

I also have a chair that belonged to a very old dining set my parents owned.  It is the chair I always sat in when I was a kid.  It used to be my desk chair, but now it lives in the dining room again.  It's not valuable or fancy, but it holds many memories.
So many people are sifting through what is left of their memories these days.  I pray they find that they still hold more than they can ever lose.

One thing all of this has brought home to us is that we need to buy and build a real storm shelter.  We are thinking an above ground one on the north side of the garage.  (In ground shelters here get full of water pretty quickly.  As a California girl, I have this strange aversion to being in a tight space under ground.  I can't imagine why.  Earthquake, anyone?)

 I think I will pack a special case with the paperwork, electronic records and some small items that we would be likely to want to

take with us, and will keep it handy to grab and take out to the shelter.  The only thing we will leave in the shelter is bottled water and a couple of tools. We need to have room to put ourselves in the shelter, after all, and maybe the odd friend or two who might be visiting when bad weather develops. 

The most precious things of course, aren't things.  They are family and friends.  My family all live in other states, and many of my friends do, too.  I do have lots of precious friends here in Oklahoma though, and I worry about them as they worry about us when this weather strikes.  We sometimes gab back and forth on Face Book in the midst of the storms, and certainly everyone checks in afterward.  I have discovered that I have some "friends I've never met in real life" that want me to check in after storms, too.  (I love you guys, you know who you are.  Means a lot that you care.)

So, as it turned out, I didn't lose anything in these last storms, either.  Only a little of my peace of mind.  Our favorite local liquor store has another marquee up this week that pretty much sums up what a lot of folks around here seem to be thinking.

I do know these storms were not God's choice, just something that happened because the conditions were right.  Still, it does make us wonder sometimes...

As Ever,
Katie

The Wonderful Gift Of A Beautiful Day

This was how we had church today.  Because of the Friday night storms, the power was somewhat missing at the church, and we are out of our cathedral space anyway, because of the roof replacement.  The power being out meant the elevators didn't work, so going up to Dean Willey Hall would automatically exclude some of the congregation who can't climb stairs.  The weather was so absolutely beautiful today, that we decided to have the 11 o'clock out in the East Garden.  It was a far less musical service than we usually have, but Mary Reynolds, Lou Kohlman and I did our best to get them singing during communion.  Mary started us off so we could agree on where we were and what we were singing.  Worked really well. 
This was just such a lovely, blue sky, birdsinging day.  It was so welcome and so wonderful after all the storms.  People were smiling everywhere we went.  Matt and I stopped in a couple of stores on the way home from church, to get some spices and to get some of the cheese I really like. 
We had a nice visit with Ralph and Julie, and it is good to see that they are hanging in there, even if it does get rough sometimes.  I welcome all good thoughts, prayers, and positive energy directed toward them finding a good place to live while their house is being rebuilt.  Julie needs a place to do her art, it is what she needs to process things. Also, their kitties really miss them, and would like to be with them for more than just a visit.  (We are OK, but we are NOT the RIGHT people.  It just isn't as much fun running our lives as it is for them to run Ralph and Julie's lives.) 

I took my walk this early evening, and the neighborhood is so peaceful today.  Children playing, the scent of people grilling in the backyard, a few mowers going, dogs barking, but overall pretty quiet and serene.  The sky so blue it hurts, with just a few very small wisps of white clouds up high.  The only sign of the recent bad weather is a few piles of tree limbs out by the curbs waiting for the yard waste guys to come get them tomorrow. 
Today I am so very grateful for the gift of this calm, beautiful weather.  The sun was warm, but the breeze was light and cool, the air was dry and pleasant.  I am grateful for all my Cathedral family gathered and praising God in spite of everything, just like we always have.  The Dean commented in his sermon about how this congregation knows about coming together to help in the face of tragic events.  He reminded us that he has heard our stories about the time after the 1995 Murrah Bombing.  He has heard more of them lately because the move to Dean Willey Hall while the roof is repaired is very reminiscent of those days.  Having so many in our communities suffering from the aftermath of the storms this past two weeks makes it feel even more like those days.  Now, as then, groups within the church are mobilizing to provide for whatever needs arise.  There are volunteers to help with cleanup, there are those willing to use expertise and resources to help victims who need assistance in navigating the recovery process.  The love in that congregation is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. 
I am also grateful for my friends who have endured so much, and are still full of laughter.  My coworkers and friends have been a part of my life, some of them for more than 14 years now.  The people here are what make this place such a very special place to live.  Why else do we hang around in the face of such awful storms?  The people here are amazing.  Resourceful, funny, loving, capable of making you absolutely astounded at some of their opinions, but still willing to love you even if you disagree with them.  We stayed after Matt retired because we loved our church family, had been through so much with them.  After we made even more friends here, we knew it was a special place, and this little suburb of Moore perhaps even more special.  This is one scrappy town.  It's been here since 1893, before statehood.  It's grown a lot just in the 20 years we have lived here.  I've seen the volume of our library's circulation increase by a large factor. There are more stores and restaurants here now, and we DID have a wonderful small hospital.  (We sincerely hope Norman Regional will rebuild our hospital.  It is a huge asset to the community, and it met many medical needs for us with ease and efficiency.)  We also have a world class movie palace and IMAX theater here in Moore, and the man who owns it is very committed to this city.  He has already reopened the theatre after the damage from the May 20 tornado was repaired.  (And it wasn't much damage.  He designed the place with tornadoes in mind.  Smart man, and one we are glad is part of our community in Moore.)

I keep coming back to this beautiful morning in the garden.  Our columbarium spaces are just behind where Matt was standing when he took this photo.  Love South 15 and 16 are our spaces.  This garden is where what is left of us will be for as long as the Cathedral stands.  I am very happy about that.  Only appropriate that our ashes are left where our hearts have so often been, in the midst of life at St. Paul's.   Children play in this garden between and after the services.  Picnics are held here.  It is a happy place as well as a place of remembering. 

I thank God for the beautiful gift of this day.  I pray that all the stormy days are behind us, at least for this season, and that we may dwell in this sunshine and peace for awhile now.  Our weary spirits need the respite.  Those who  must rebuild need the good weather to complete the task.  May we be ever mindful of what a gift days like today are, and may we remain grateful.
As Ever,
Katie