IMAGES OF BARBARA

We are still working on pictures. However, I do not take a very good picture. I close my eyes, I open my mouth, I look wide eyed and weird; my mouth is open in a gaping, gasping, guffaw; I am sallow and worn and hopeless; I am gesticulating and ranting and ugly. Nothing looks natural -- what is natural? I am a person of many moods, attitudes, and places of being.

I am thinking to take some pictures of my Shih Tzu, Gabriel, and use him as my "marker." He doesn't like to have his picture taken either, however, and photo shoots with him usually result in blurs, a bowed head, or even a back view. We will keep the cameras going and see what we can do. In the meantime we have this, and then there is the serious one that I chose -- mainly because of the color that matches the blog page. Somewhere down the road there will be a picture that seems like the real me. The real me? There are so many. Which one shall I choose? And who IS the real me?

AMERICAN PIE

We have just returned from the Don McLean concert in Stamford. This is the last Alive at Five Concert for the summer. Bill and I had half a CostCo spinach salad each that we ate after we had settled in at Columbus Park.

I took a book and read for a while. Watched as people gathered. Families with young children, the young twenties bunch, teen agers, boomers, and then the sixties crowd, and older even. As time went on the young children became restless and began tossing around their freebie plastic balls and squealing and falling all over one another and their parents and anyone else nearby. I watched one ignored four year old pour Sprite and Heiniken from one can to another and then another and then drink the mix. A group of five or six twenty somethings were sitting around on the grass in a circle smoking gross, fat cigars. YUK!! Young couples, singles, parents became more animated in their conversation. And the decibels increased. Finally, it was a strain to even hear the music -- the beat, yes, but not the lyrics.

Too much noise and too many people. I began to feel a little panicky. And then AMERICAN PIE. This caught the attention of most of the crowd who sang the lyrics and gyrated to the beat. Bill said that we could go. And that was fine with me as long as it didn't take away anything from his enjoyment of the concert. Hey, he said, I listen to this stuff all day long (ITunes) I don't need to stay.

They were singing American Pie as we folded up our chairs, while we struggled our way through the crowd, and all the way down to the car. The walk to the car away from the loudness and the throng of so many bodies was calming. The drive home was further calming. Being home in the quiet is peaceful and wonderful.

THE GREAT SHAMPOO SCAM

The last bottle of shampoo was in the shower when the brand went on sale again at my super market. Same brand, same flavor, BUT -- "30% MORE," in big red letters on a yellow swatch just above the brand name White Rain. Yes, the volume was 30% more. The price was still the same sale price as the previous (30% less) bottle had been. So, what a bargain I got, right?


WRONG! When I opened up the new, "30% more," bottle and tipped the shampoo into my hand, I discovered that the 30% more was obviously -- water. Instead of plopping onto my palm in a nicely mounded glob it went running out between my fingers, onto the shower floor, and down the drain. So now I have to use, you guessed it -- 30% more to get the same lather as I did with the original.


I feel duped. I am a frugal person, very careful with how I spend my money. And I really don't like being cheated or taken advantage of. And, of course, in this instance, there is no recourse. Well, there is an 800 number to call. Perhaps I'll try that tomorrow. I'll let them know that I haven't been fooled, that I've got their number, and that I don't like it. But will I be heard? We like our grievances to be heard. We want the satisfaction of knowing that our concerns are taken seriously. Actually we want reprisal, vengeance, compensation, and apology.


What I really want is to be treated with honesty and integrity. I guess that is just too much to ask for in today's world.

Martha and Mary

It has been over two weeks since the Martha and Mary lesson:

(Luke 10:38-42 "As Jesus and his disciples went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."


I am still sitting with it. It has always disturbed me because I have always identified with Martha and the lesson is that Martha is wrong. I really don't like being wrong. This time around I got a one on one lesson from Lois+, our priest, telling me that being with Jesus is the only important thing that we can do. Hmmm... new thought.



Okay. I can deal with a new thought. So I try a different approach. One of the Bible Study approaches is to be IN the story. BE a character in the story. So I am Mary. I am sitting at the feet of Jesus. Jesus is sitting on a chair? a couch? a something, and I am sitting on the floor at his feet. He is talking/teaching to the others who are sitting around -- on chairs, on couches, on something. I am sitting on the floor at his feet.


Martha has just poked her head around the corner from the kitchen to see where I am and why I am not helping. She isn't mad. She is listening to Jesus. She wants to be a good hostess, but she also wants to hear the Good News that Jesus is telling us. She is trying to be the good hostess and the good disciple. Jesus is asking an awful lot of her. I am sitting on the floor at Jesus feet.


I am sitting on the floor at Jesus feet. I am leaning against his legs. I am "touching" him. He is talking to all the others -- the ones sitting on chairs and couches. He does not even acknowledge me -- I am sitting at his feet, on the floor. I am like the invisible person. He doesn't even know that I am there. I feel outside, not part of the group, not important. I am hurting because I want to learn and understand these new teachings but they are directed at others, not me. I am NOT part of this "in" group. I am alone. I should better be with my sister, being the good hostess.

There is no learned lesson here. I will continue to struggle with the story. Maybe the next time around I will be in a better place of understanding.

LOGO REFLECTIONS

Sunday's sermon was the "vanity" sermon. "...all is vanity and a chasing after wind." (Ecclesiastes 1:14) which was translated for us as the toil and effort we expend for tomorrow is hopeless. Appreciating the present, we were told is all that really counts.

Well, I have a few thoughts on this. AND, I may have received the lesson differently than it was intended. First, I know that the only time that I can touch God is now. Not yesterday, not tomorrow, just now, in this very moment. Having accepted that, I have learned that it behooves me to pay attention to the past -- like births, and weddings. If I don't remember these past events I am not likely to acknowledge them in the "now" in which they occur; because for this to happen there needs to be planning for that future "now." I know that I have allowed myself to be too much in the now for that planning for the future and I have disappointed any number of people by missing the anniversaries of wonderful events. I am trying to be better but there are still major lapses. My sister, Jacquie, is wonderful remebering important events and remembering them in sufficient time so that we, the recipients of her adcknowledgements, feel loved.

Yesterday was a good lesson for me in this appreciate the now scenario. I spent a good bit of the day working on the church logo. This has been a long and arduous project. Mostly because I am working in unfamiliar territory and each step is a new learning process. I began with a photo of the Pentacost altar frontal. John Sutton took the photo and e-mailed it to me. I brought it into Photoshop. I think this was in June -- the past. Since then I have taken out the flames, turned it black and white, printed, hand outlined, re-photoed, retooled, tweaked. It has been a long process. Yesterday I got it the best that it has been and transported it into a mock Service Bulletin, and the Welcome Leaflet we have been formulating. All of this "now" activity, being enjoyed and appreciated, and still in contemplation of the future. Is this "..vanity and a chasing after wind?" I hope not. I hope I got the balance.

On the left is the altar frontal on the right is the current version of the logo. Refinements are in the offing, I'm sure.

FROM THE "For What It's Worth" Department

So now ya'll know -- I can by a trusted, loyal friend.

You scored as Ron Weasley, You often feel like second best and as a result don't have an awful lot of self confidence, but a truer more capable friend would be hard to find. Ron Weasley 90% Draco Malfoy 80% Ginny Weasley 80% Remus Lupin 75% Hermione Granger 70% Albus Dumbledore 65% Sirius Black 60% Harry Potter 55% Severus Snape 55% Lord Voldemort 10% Your Harry Potter Alter Ego Is...? created with QuizFarm.com

Notebooks and Tablets and Pads, OH MY!

Every morning I write three pages of stream of consciousness. I have been doing this for several years. I write in sprial notebooks. When one notebook is filled the beginning of another elicits a strange emotional experience. Opening the new spiral, I frequently will run my hand, lovingly, sensually, over the new, pristine, blank page. This page is an open invitation to all the new thoughts and gripes and longings that are coming into being. And so begins the next set of my pages.

I address sketchbooks and drawing pads in much the same way although I have done very little sketching or drawing of late. But I do have many awaiting pads. I especially like the ones with perforated pages because it is like the first new page each time one is opened

A brand new passion is my infatuation with the Moleskine notebooks. In fact I am among many who feel the same way over at the website dedicated to Moleskines. I began my involvement with them by purchasing the small cahiers. These come three in a package, blank, lined, or gridded and have an open pocket in the back. I have designated one to keep track of my "projects." I keep notes and glue in pictures as the project progresses. Another one I keep in my purse to keep track of sizes, shapes, and names of things: varius table sizes for tablecloth purchases, names of plants that attract hummingbirds, dimensions of a wine glass to complete a set, all the stuff I can't carry around in my head anymore. And the third one is in reserve, awaiting a purpose.

Emboldened by the success of the cahiers, I purchases an 80 page sketchbook Moleskine. These have the pocket in the back , a page marker ribbon, and an elastic band that holds it all together. In fact I splurged and bought TWO. The one that I unwrapped began as my "praying in color" notebook. Pilot G2 GeI pens are my color medium. I have added emotional thoughts along with the color prayers. But, of course, the really charged emotion was opening the Moleskine up to the first new page. It was almost like God, waiting to hear from me.

It seems that I have had this weird fetish since -- well, forever. New school notebook fillers, drawing pads, little note pads, anything with a fresh, new page. It is waiting. Just for me. An opening for my heart.