Mrs. Beasley I miss you

When I was a little girl I had a Mrs. Beasley doll. She was the best with that polka-dotted blue and yellow dress and silly face that made every girl feel absolutely beautiful. Really though, I loved her. She had a string that came out of her back that would make her recite really great things that I don't remember. But the best thing about her was she was my unconditional little friend. You know childhood can be rough. Kids sometimes steal your candy and slam the door in your face (that's a story for another day). You need an unconditional friend, anyone being nice to you is good too...you think.
So when the older neighbor girl, Ruthie, from down the street came knocking at my door and wanted to play with me and both of our Mrs. Beasley dolls I quickly accepted. My mother seemed to think it was nice that the older girl wanted to play and went about busily in the house. I ran to get Mrs. Beasley as Ruthie so impatiently requestly. Eager to play with me, I thought. That's nice.
Now out on the front porch, the same concrete porch that held the day's heat and warmed me in the evening, on this porch she told me, smiling from her large frame, to take the scarf I put on my Mrs. Beasley, hand her my doll ,close my eyes and spin around. I did. She handed me Mrs. Beasley and said "they look exactly the same." Yes, they did.
That was all the playing she wanted to do. Odd I thought, but whatever. I went to my room to have tea with Mrs. Beasley. That's when my little girl world unravelled. Mrs. Beasley would no longer speak her kind words that I don't remember to me. The string was stuck, broken. I had been duped by the classic bait and switch! I ran crying to my mother.
I approached Ruthie's house many times in an attempt to get my friend back. She had two very large, very mean brothers, which could explain a few things. But I never did get my Mrs. Beasley back.
As a child I was sad for quite awhile about this and I couldn't fix it, no one would fix it. I have thought often of this since, and thought how mean Ruthie was, how much I'd like to tell her a thing or two about how to treat people. But then what could I say about how I treated her?
This story brings me back to the only thing that can fix the unfixable stuff. Forgiveness.
Makes me think of how many tangled situations I've put myself in when I make bad choices, it gets unfixable. And God forgives me every time.
OK, so Ruthie, I still miss Mrs. Beasley, but you're off the hook.
Forgiveness fixes a lot of things, not Mrs. Beasley's voice box, but still, a lot of things.

Cake for Breakfast Plan

I am NOT a morning person (yes, I shouted that so you'd know I mean it).

If I have to wake up at some awful early time, I like to do something to make me sort of...happy to be awake, even thought that is a contradiction in terms.

I like to set the coffee maker to have a pot of strong coffee that wafts its amazing power to my bed and beckons me to a beautiful morning moment (I try, I really do).

Last weekend I saw this cake recipe that I could set on a timer to bake in the break maker overnight. What a great thing that would be to wake up to, I thought. So, I measured everything exactly, as the break maker demands, and set the plan in motion that would woo me from my most comfortable snuggly place to an upright, even vertical, forward movement into the day.

I was looking forward to awonderful aroma, much like the Birthday Cake Yankee candle, and... birthday cake.

Then, in the semi-conscious warmest moments before the alarm goes off (unbeknownst to me how we know when that is, but we do) I started thinking that I didn't do something right with the bread maker.

Alas, I found my cake. Smelling OK, but not amazing. Looking....crumbly. Tasting quite wrong.

Turns out I had put the ingredients into that bread maker pan, but had not engaged the pan into the break maker. So, the beautiful cake was one click away from mixing. NO click away from baking unmixed. And really mixed up....actually not, mixed up.

We tried it, but only the birds ended up liking it.

Got me thinking. Yes, of course, thinking.

That sometimes in regard to my faith, I have all the ingredients and a great plan set in motion. But if I am not connected to the power of God, if I have only gone through the motions, and put myself in proximity to Him, but not really connected, I do not see the result I had hoped for.

So, I'll try a great morning cake wake up again sometime, but I'm pretty sure next time, I'll remember to connect the plan to the power.

Slow Mo for fast days

Ever had a moment when something in this world seems to scream "You're an idiot!" and you look around and wonder who's behind it all.

Well, it happened to me today.

It was not really a crazy work day, but a message someone left on my voicemail was so fast I couldn't grasp it. The second time I listened to it I caught the name and address, but still couldn't get the email address. Maybe I didn't drink enough coffee, I thought, but I had to listen to it a third time.

This time a noticably slower, groggy voice repeated the same message....."you can e - mail me at b f a s t e r@ l i f e. c o m."

OK, I changed the email address to protect the innocent, but unless I am completely losing it (which is debated by some), Verizon has provided a helpful service for slow people. But I'm pretty sure that what they are really saying is "Moron, get the message and delete already. There are other people who need this storage space. Obviously (still the message talking between the lines here), you are having issues keeping up with the pace of the world we live in. Lucky for you we are in a time of recession and must compete for all customers, even the annoying ones. We hope you have a nice day, quickly."

Made me appreciate, well, first, a good laugh.

Then, the patience God has for me. I need it.

Hermit Crab Shock Factor

The first time a child sees or discovers something is so fun to watch, usually anyway. A kitten, furry and playful - you have to wonder what thoughts are running behind a little kid's saucer size eyes. A massive world is busting out with discovery, continually unfolding.

At our house discoveries like these are still occuring for our 2 year old dog, Zoey. The cat and his claws are old news for her. The two new hermit crabs were not.

When we bought the unusual shell-abiding creatures at the pet store, we also purchased a rawhide bone for Zoey to accomodate her obsessive paw-chewing, blanket drooling habits - we hoped.

Very excited about her new chewy bone, she held the large clunky double-knotted rawhide in her teeth and would not put it down. In all the excitement and preoccupation with her new possession the presence of the new pets had escaped her.

Hermie and Pearl clunked around in their aquarium, still unnoticed. So we decided to introduce them. We put Hermie on the kitchen floor and let him crawl around. Zoey was standing at attention with the rawhide still jaw-locked. That is, until she noticed that the shell had legs...that functioned. Her eyes grew to the saucer stage at precisely the same time that her body froze and her jaw dropped. The huge bone clunked onto the floor. Hermie's shell clunked onto the floor, legs drawn in.

Zoey went into a playful frenzy, barking and pawing at her new friend. The newness, as predicted, has worn off.

I am thankful that the discoveries of this world and God's greatness are never ending, even though the shiny new bone is now gnarly nastiness and buried somewhere, and Hermie clunks around all night in his aquarium while Zoey sleeps nearby.

Don't Step Here Signs

In the middle of night a demonic sound screeched from the upstairs hallway. Makes my heart race. Not the sort of thing I welcome during my coveted sleeping hours. Good thing my husband is the one who heard it.

When he reached the top of the stairs he found all the bedroom doors shut, "spooky", he said, not normally one to fear much. What he found was our cat feeling quite ill, working on a puke puddle which did not 'surface' until morning (for us anyway). That's when our son Dexter decided to do something about the mess.

He made a nice little 2-sided cheeseboard sign that read: "Don't Step Here". Very helpful considering the convergance of camoflouge and the early morning slumber walk to the bathroom. However it ended up, a Canon moment to be sure.

I've thought how nice it would be if life offered such signs. Something flashing and illuminated, like "Really Big Mess Ahead. Go Around." That could be really convenient. I mean, there are a lot of life situations and annoyances I'd rather skirt around and stay on the pleasant track.

But wait a minute, if there were just a bunch of redirecting signs who would clean up the messes? God knows there has been a cheeseboard sign over me at least once (ok, maybe twice), and somebody cared enough to stop by with a mop and an encouraging word that moved me out of my muddy puddle.

So, Dave and I gathered the Resolve cleaner, damp rag, paper towels, plastic bag. Blot, blot, spray, blot. Cleaning up what we could and moving along.

The sign is still there though, just for a grin.

"HI Shelley!" and the Really Blank Look

After a work meeting, complete with name tags, I spent my lunch time Friday school shopping with one of my boys. As I meandered through the trendy store, endured an overly chipper fast-talker of a sales girl's explanation of the difference between loose fit and low loose fit vs. low boot loose...and that's where she lost me. I nodded politely, I think, and then a woman came out of nowhere "Hi Shelley!"

I could see she was also school shopping with teenager, but for my life I could not have told you who she was and my blank face conveyed it. Then it occurred to me, I slapped my hand over my name tag and peeled it off with a smile. "My name is Shelley," I said laughing, "who are you?"

I guess really the question should have been, what is your name? Because before I knew that I could have told you a bit about who she is, a friendly woman with a great sense of humor.

"Shelley," Becky said a few minutes later, "what do you think of this shirt?" And we talked a little about how even though we're school shopping for our kids doesn't mean we shouldn't look for ourselves. This is what I've been telling my kids for years, even when we're not school shopping.

Funny how a little humor goes a long way. I left there with a smile, a story, and a new shirt.

Thanks Becky, I hope you find this blog!

Back-to-School cars

"Mom, did you hear that? 'Back-to-School laptops and ipods'?" said my son Wes in disbelief of a radio commercial. "Who are these people?" Then, with a bright sarcastic smile, "Mom, can we talk about Back-to-School cars?"

The next day my 23 year old son Trevor, "Mom, did you hear that (television) commercial? Back-to-School laptops for high school kids?! Even in college I never saw every student with a laptop." He laughs, "What are these companies trying to pull?"

I just laugh! -in not only good humor, but with gratitude, for practical minded kids. They don't always like to hear this, but I guess not being able to, and at other times, choosing not to buy them everything they want, is paying off!

But I have to say, a Back-to-School car really does sound good.