This Reminds Me

Archive for the ‘The Lost Blog Entries’ Category

We’ve just returned from riding the “Polar Express”, a 2-hour round-trip train experience in and around Austin. Santa and Mrs. Claus visited our compartment to give us bell necklaces; the conductor dispensed cocoa and homemade gingerbread men; Girl Scouts sang carols. We thought we were hot stuff in our (mostly) newish robes and jammies until we spied an irritating family of five – complete with dewy-faced infant – in matching bright green and red sleepwear. I’ll bet their sugar cookies are all the same size, and I’ll bet they hang individual icicles Monk-style. Boooorrring!

We can hear our bells, Santa – you bet! We believe.

Our excursion began with Rachel pushing Hannah into the motel’s outdoor pool. Yes, it was 40 degrees and sleeting, and yes, Hannah was wearing her basketball shorts which were required for her game immediately as we returned to San Antonio today (hence, why they were packed – don’t ask me why she put them on a day early.) Fortunately, I perfected my “swing-it-around-the-room-several-times-then-hit-it-with-a-hair-dryer” laundry drying skills in India 18 years ago, so she did have dry shorts today. Her team and Lois’ team both won today, BTW – I am hoarse from cheering. And tense from restraining myself to keep from going on court and whalloping a little snot who kept elbowing our girls. You gotta watch those Lutherans.

CCFN! (Choo-Choo For Now!)

….and “B” is for “Bulldog” and “C” is for the certificate Lois is displaying after joining a handful of classmates chosen for the “Bulldog with Pride” award this semester at Bush Middle School. Keith and I clapped the most loudly when we heard her described as a smart, hard-working and trustworthy leader with a wicked sense of humor.

“D” is for “Don’t you wish she could unload the dishwasher with the same enthusiasm?”

And she tells me, “‘E’ is for enough already, Mom!”

Now I’ve said my ABC’s

Next time won’t you blog with me?

Don’t like the weather in Texas?  Wait a few hours.

We ran the air conditioner this past humid weekend – but not tonight, baby, it’s cold outside! Lois’ Christmas choir concert was cancelled because of freezing drizzle, which was just as well since she dragged home with a vicious weather-induced migraine.  She and Hannah asked to sleep by the fireplace.  It’s a school night…maybe…and at first I said “no.”  Then I thought:  Why do we have a fireplace and how often do we get to use it?  So they’re sawing logs by the gas ones.

When I laid them down to sleep

They prayed to God for rain so deep
And frozen hard, so bus wheels slide
And they can skip and play inside.

Good night, everybody.  I really must go.  This evening has been so very nice.  Baby, it’s cold outside.

This week I received a box of family “stuff” courtesy of my cousin Joyce – who, by the way,  is a living saint.  The “stuff” all came from the home of our Aunt Zum. Zum, a.k.a., Arizona, was a younger sister to my mom (Wyoming), and an older sister to Joyce’s mom (Nevada.)  Joyce has been helping Zum’s husband clean out some their home – an unhappy but necessary chore.

I think Aunt Zum kept everything Mom, Judy, David, Sarah and I ever wrote to her or sent her.  Rachel and I began sloughing through it last night – what to pass onto Judy and Sarah, what to keep for ourselves, what just needs to be tossed.  I grimmaced at elementary art creations of David’s and mine.  I marveled at how much David had written with his one half-finger curled around a pen, undoubtedly swiped from Remco or Custom Coating.  I laughed at so many of my mother’s cards and letters.  I also ran my fingertips over Mom’s handwriting, picturing her at the kitchen table with her ever-present stack of note paper.

Our message in church this a.m. was just what I needed to hear -  “Have you been touched by Christmas?”  Basically, our pastor was asking us if we really cared about – if we were really impacted by -  Jesus’ life and message.  I was looking at all the “stuff” at our feet (bibles, notebooks, markers, kicked-off shoes, Sunday School materials, etc.) and I thought:  This is “stuff.”  Sort of like the box awaiting me at home, that I need to finish going through today.  “Stuff” is not life.  It’s what’s left here when you die.

This holiday season we have two girls in basketball games and practices.  Two in school choirs with practices and performances.  Two in Scouts.  All three in community service clubs with activities, collections, etc. Keith is traveling for business.  We have parties, gatherings, all the usual “stuff.”  But “stuff” is not “life.”  And this season – one day at a time – I am going to make it a point to be touched by Christmas.  Because Christmas – it’s all about life.