Creativity in Healing & Spiritual Growth

Grace Episcopal Church on Bainbridge Island, WA

is hosting a series called

"Spiritual Practice Saturdays."

On December 6, from 9:30am - Noon, 

I'll be leading "Creativity in Healing and Spiritual Growth,"

and you're invited to attend!

Here is the description, from Grace's email:

 "God as Creator has made us creative. Inviting that creativity into our spiritual practice can be daunting, and an authentic pathway into healing and growth. Come spend a morning with us as Karen Gerstenberger, author and speaker, guides us as we write and walk and draw mandalas as spiritual practice. Together, we will playfully and skillfully encourage our 'unencumbered self' to authentic expression - the kind of expression that leads to healing, growth and joy. 

To help us plan, please contact Robin Livingston robin@robinmlivingston.com if you wish to attend."

Happy Spring!

I went for a walk today, and saw the sun coming through the trees, highlighting the contrast between the fresh blossoms of youth and the sturdiness of maturity:

Ah, Spring...welcome! Thanks be to God for your newness of life, invigorating hope, and visible relief after the dark, wet, spare days of winter. I am happy to see you.

Here is my latest beach glass wreath (they are sold at Caron's Beach House):

The spring tides are getting lower during the daytime, which means that we will soon be able to do some beach walking (and beachcombing). I can hardly wait!

"We are all temporary custodians of beauty....I adore wearing gems, but not because they are mine. You can't possess radiance, you can only admire it." - Elizabeth Taylor

The SFDWG (Sh*tty First Draft Writing Group)

A few years ago, I met a group of bereaved mothers online. Each one of us had recently suffered the death of our child, all due to completely different causes. We are bloggers who live in Ohio, Virginia and Washington state. Robin, Karen, Chris & I had never met in the flesh, but we felt akin to one another once we began to correspond. One of our group suggested that we start a book group using a private blog where we could reflect and discuss what we were reading. That is exactly what we did - except (of course), much more than that happened.

We chose a book by wonderful author Joyce Rupp called "Open the Door." As we read and responded to the questions for each chapter, we walked together through our grief, our deepest thoughts and spiritual issues, family difficulties, anniversaries, and more. We got to know each other intimately...and some of us have now met in person. These relationships are a tremendous gift of solace to me.

The blog is still private. We tried to study another book after finishing "Open the Door," but everyone's life got busier and the book study disbanded. We keep in touch through our blogs, facebook and private email communications, but have allowed the group activity around a book to go away.

I found I missed the regular exchanges and camaraderie with such women; though I don't seek them out, bereaved mothers do tend to find each other. But it can't be just ANY bereaved mother: she has to have a deep (and preferably dark) sense of humor and irony; she needs some kind of spiritual sense, and she has to be determined to live a full life, while facing the fact that there is one part of her life that will never, ever be filled again.

A little over a year ago, I attended the Field's End Writer's Conference with my friend, Reba (Hannah's mom). That event inspired us to found a writing group, and invite other fledgling writers to join in for accountability and encouragement. Enter the Sh*tty First Draft Writing Group. It just happened that the members of this group are all bereaved mothers -  most of the credit for this miracle goes to Reba, Hannah's mom; she knows all of us, and introduced us to one another. Credit for the name of the group goes to Anne Lamott, who encourages her students to write "shitty first drafts," and not to edit prematurely - just get it out, get it down - go for it.

We meet every two weeks at one home or other, share what we are working on, offer commentary and encouragement, laugh, cry, eat, drink and generally support each other creatively in a space which no one but a bereaved parent understands. No one but a mother who has had to say "goodbye" to her child knows the gnawing space left in the heart and gut; the difficulties of living each day, facing the future without that child's presence; the existential questions and challenges to faith, the search for meaning - and meaningful work, - the panic attacks, doubt and the harsh reality of a life changed, permanently, forever, stretching out before us - a life without that child's laughter, love, touch, smell, sensibility, contributions and need for our care. We also share our joys in day-to-day living, our families, progress, growth and inspiration.

In the presence of such understanding, I do not feel "alien;" without that fellowship, my loss looms even greater. I'm thankful for these beautiful, talented, generous women and each of their precious children.

Robin, Stefanie, Reba and Teri

"Leonard Cohen’s song, 'Anthem,' states in the refrain: 'There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.' It sounds a lot like Paul’s statement about carrying 'the treasure in earthen vessels' (2 Corinthians 4:7). These are both much more poetic ways of naming what we unfortunately called 'original sin' —a poor choice of words because the word sin implies fault and culpability, and that is precisely not the point! Original sin was trying to warn us that the flaw at the heart of all reality is nothing we did personally, but that there is simply 'a crack in everything' and so we should not be surprised when it shows itself in us or in everything else." - Richard Rohr

 Thank God for good company on a hard road. That's another example of "how the light gets in."

The Good Deal and The Bad Deal

When I was living in my parents' home with my siblings, my father invented what he called "The Good Deal and The Bad Deal." Just writing that makes me smile. You may have read about my father's sense of humor here, and his very direct, dramatic, energetic personality. For example, you might recall the story of the time when I was a senior in high school and had done something that made him very angry. After telling me in no uncertain terms how furious he was, my father's way of delivering my punishment - taking away my driving privileges - was shouting, "You're a PEDESTRIAN!" Even in great anger, he could be witty and funny.

My dad has always had a great sense of humor

I'm the youngest of three - my sister Debbie is five years older than I am, and my brother Jim is three years older. I learned a great deal by watching them...watching what worked, what didn't work, what my parents would tolerate and what they would not accept. I observed the way my parents corrected us and disciplined us, what their standards were and how they responded if one of us fell short. I had an advantage in being able to watch the older two - and the advantage of their work of "breaking in" my parents.

By the time I was in my teens, my parents had figured out a lot of things; they had developed some calm in regards to certain teen behavior which had, at first, created some panic and major reactions in them. So I daresay it was much easier to be their 3rd child than their first - but isn't this true in many families? We learn parenting from our own parents - whether we like what they did or not - and mainly by doing it ourselves; many times, we learn by "doing it wrong."

When my brother and sister were deep into their teens, there was some conflict over the expectations in our home, and the way my parents felt they were being treated. In light of all that they did for us, and the teachings of the commandment, "Honor thy father and thy mother...," as well as their desire to raise courteous and respectful people, my parents held certain standards; at the time, these were not being met by the three of us.

My father, with a huge sense of humor and a deep sense of responsibility for his family, came up with a choice for us: The Good Deal or The Bad Deal. He and my mother obviously had a clear idea of which one they wanted us to choose, but they did allow us the choice.

Debbie, Jim and me, a few years after the Good Deal/Bad Deal offer

The Good Deal meant doing what my parents asked of us, including chores in the house and garden, following rules, helping out, upholding the family's standards. The rewards for that were total support, a great place to live, money for expenses, freedom to use the family cars, paid vacations, special privileges and treats, etc. A very "good deal," indeed.

The house where I grew up

This was actually a vehicle for work (my dad was a salesman with several states to cover), but it could also whisk you away for something special

The Bad Deal meant that you had more leeway to do things your own way, had fewer chores and expectations - but you were on your own financially. In-home services were reduced. You worked (elsewhere), and paid your own way.

My sister and I immediately opted for The Good Deal. My brother decided to try The Bad Deal. My father and mother stood back and waited.

My brother came back to ask for The Good Deal a short time later.

My family at the time of my first marriage

Why am I sharing these memories with you? Because I recently recalled the Good Deal/Bad Deal when facing a "parenting moment" with our own 19-year old son. I admired anew my father's creativity, ingenuity, humor and wisdom, and my mother's ability to flex with him. I am blessed to be their daughter, to be part of this legacy, and to be able to pass some of it along to our son...whether or not David appreciates that at this point in his life!

By the way: is it just me, or can anyone else see the family resemblance?

David in 2011

My dad in the 1960s

Note to Mich (Daisy): yes, David has a great sense of humor!

Birth Pains

" 'All this is only the beginning of the birth pangs.'

~ Matthew 24:8 (Jerusalem Bible)

"Birth pains are an image of something painful that is bringing about something better. The price for bringing about something better is to go through the pain of birth. Male gods create by a flick of their creative finger. Female gods create by labor pains. Patriarchs seem to think that birth pains are unnecessary—at least for them. That’s why we have been able to avoid so much of the Gospel, I am afraid.

"If we had an image of God as a great Mother who is birthing (Romans 8:22), I think birth pains would have been much more understood. A woman who has had a child understands something I will never understand: the necessary connection between pain and life—and she might well know it in the very cells of her body."

Adapted from Radical Grace: Daily Meditations, p. 370, day 383

Reading this devotional from Richard Rohr this morning is comforting me. I have run into a snag or two, as I shepherd the book and video projects along, and at times, I become discouraged.

Things have actually moved so well with both projects that it's been surprising, on the whole. Doors have opened, people have been willing to help, free with supportive comments and input, and generally positive about the entire endeavor. Every time I knock on a door (figuratively speaking), it has either opened, or a "window" nearby has opened, instead. In fact, it's gone so smoothly that I tend to assume that the snags, resistance or moments of difficulty that rarely arise indicate that "something is wrong." Typical of "magical thinking," (Joan Didion's phrase) that everything is supposed to go smoothly all the time.

Look around! That is not even true in nature; why should it be in human life and work? Things do go wrong, and many birth-experiences involve pain. Father Rohr provides this reminder about human birth. Even though it was over 16 years ago that I last gave birth to a baby, I do remember that pain.

David was born via Cesarean section. I was trying to have him "naturally," and resisted all forms of assistance for as long as possible. Big mistake, by the way. After 18 hours of labor (many of them under the effects of pitocin, a labor-inducing drug), and without pain relief, I gave in, and asked for an epidural. That was a smart move...David was born 18 hours after that, by emergency Cesarean section. He had the umbilical cord wrapped three times around his neck. "Natural" childbirth was not physically possible. The pain of the first 18 hours changed my life-perspective. I had not known that such physical pain existed on earth.

David's first photograph

When Katie was born, she was delivered by VBAC - not a Cesarean section. I hear that this is less common nowadays, but 16 years ago, the prevalent thinking was to try to do it as "naturally" as possible.

Katie, moments after she was first handed to me

After our children were born, my sister, who has never given birth, asked me what labor felt like. "Like someone is trying to open your womb with a crowbar - from the inside," I remember telling her.

I'm thankful for this reminder that some of the best things in life require us to endure pain so they can be born. Pain doesn't necessarily mean that we are doing something wrong. There are times when pain does indicate that a change of course is in order; for example, touching a hot stove and feeling the burn is a clear signal to step back. Pain can be a reminder to open one's heart for directions, in case a change of course is needed, but "pain" doesn't automatically signal "mistake." Perhaps it signals, "Listen;" perhaps it is a reminder to pause, rest or to re-commit what we are doing to God, to whom everything belongs.

"Jesus said to his Apostles:
'...whoever does not take up his cross
and follow after me is not worthy of me.
Whoever finds his life will lose it,
and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

“Whoever receives you receives me,
and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me.' " - Matthew 10

Yes, I'm Still Here

Doorway in Paris, July 2009

Last week was a very busy one. I saw my friend Kathleen, who you may remember as Hayden's & Gunnar's mom. She is doing well, and I am grateful to God for sustaining her and giving her joy in life.

I worked diligently on the Open Door blog with my friends Chris, Karen J. and Robin. It was a deep week of mining our memories of the passing of each of our children. We wrote our memories and read each other's. These are hard stories, and they bring up deep grief for ourselves and for one another - yet the work is good, powerful and meaningful. I read, wrote and prayed a lot. On those days, there was little time or energy left to write here.

You may recall the poem, Litany, by Billy Collins. I had an inspiration (and a visual concept) after watching the videos of Samuel (the 3-year old  boy) and Mr. Collins himself reciting the poem, so I wrote to him and asked his permission to create a book out of it. He said, "No." I loved my concept so much that I dared to argue with him (politely) in an email. No go. I am still working on it, for myself - not for publication - and devoted hours to the project last week. It was challenging and rewarding to see the images in my mind take shape, and a good counterpoint to all of the mental work I was doing last week. I am happy with the product, although I was disappointed to learn that Mr. Collins' considerable creative imagination does not stretch as far as I had assumed a poet laureate's would. {Other applications for a work of art ARE possible, even though they are not what you had in mind when you made it. But it is his masterpiece, so I will leave it at that.}

I met with another bereaved mother, a talented sculptor whose son died over 20 years ago, and heard/discussed a vision that she has for a local group of moms of children who have passed away. It was fascinating, and I will wrote more if/when it comes to fruition.

A reporter friend came to interview me about Katie's Comforters Guild, blogging and what is going on now. She did a wonderful job of making me feel at ease, and it was a pleasure sharing news with her. We had four new offers of help and/or inquiries about membership last week, including a donation of fabric. The guild continues to grow and to be a blessing - I'm very thankful for each offer of help and each member's contributions.

Gregg and I spent a quiet and happy weekend exploring our area on foot, seeing friends, pruning plants and cleaning up the yard, watching good movies and enjoying each other's company. I love that guy!

The Zags lost their basketball game in overtime.

All of this means that the house is in a bit of a mess, and I have to get busy cleaning now. Blessings on your day.

Don't Call Chocoholics Anonymous...

During Thanksgiving vacation, I went shopping with my mom along the main street of Palm Desert, which is called El Paseo. Along this street are many beautiful boutiques, and a certain high-priced kitchen store (one of a national chain). Since mom needed to find some napkin rings, we decided to browse through the store, and possibly pick up some ideas for Thanksgiving dinner.

I found an item that I do not need - well, I found LOTS of items I don't need - but one of them made me crazy with desire. I went back to the condo and told Gregg about it; he persuaded me to wait and think about it until we got home, so I did.

And then I went to the Seattle branch of the high-priced kitchen store, and bought it. Here it is:

See what I mean? Would you have been able to resist such beauty?

So yesterday, I baked lovely, bite-sized Ghirardelli chocolate bundt cakes (from scratch) in that irresistible pan. They are adorable.

And today, I made chocolate ganache and frosted them. I may have been hungry when I did this.

You can't really make out the adorable, detailed shape of each bundt anymore. I may have gotten a bit carried away.

Chocolate ganache likes to drip. I like the drips; they look like a chocolate fountain is at work. As one thing led to another, I got sort of lost "in the zone," as if I were painting. (I majored in painting in college, in case you didn't know. And you can see that I am not making a living as a painter.)

Now, be nice. They don't look that bad in person, and they taste great (I had to sample one).

And no one needs to call Chocoholics Anonymous. I am going to share these with a group of women while we watch "Julie & Julia" tonight.

Zen Thoughts

"Not
one
single
atom
opposes us." -Zen Master Hongzhi

What if this is true?

What would we dare to do?

"God created us with an overwhelming desire to soar. Our desire to develop and use every ounce of potential He's placed in us is not egotistical. He designed us to be tremendously productive and "to mount up with wings like eagles," realistically dreaming of what He can do with our potential." - Carol Kent, "Speak Up"

Busy, Busy...Sad

It's been a busy week, so far. We've had some school communication issues to resolve, and we have a 16-year-old guy here who loves to ski, AND who is trying out for the golf team (at the same time as he is planning his next ski outing)...and who leaves for France in a few weeks! Where are his golf shoes? Where are his khakis?

Monday was "housecleaning and laundry day." Yesterday was "sewing quilts" day. Rita brought her machine over and we sewed like madwomen. We finished 16 quilts that I had pinned, including two for a charity auction to benefit Children's Hospital. Jill Douglas, the mother of Alexis and Austin, is helping to organize this benefit. If you want to participate in any way, you can visit Alexis' website and read about it. Look for it there under recent news/updates.

Here is a sneak peek at the two quilts that will be part of the auction.


Also pictured in the stack above are quilts made by my sister-in-law, Linda, Blogger Mary Jo and Quilter Sandy. Thanks to all of you!

Today I am washing more fabric, and ironing is the next step. Dear Diane W. brought a generous donation of fabric for the quilts, and is going to bring more. Momentum is building, as is the supply of fabric; thank you, God! Thank you, Diane! We need the help, in order to keep the supply going (and to support our efforts to get blankets to all wards of the hospital. If you sew, or know someone who does, please send them here & we can help you/them get started.)

Tonight, we are going out to Burrata Bistro for dinner with Rita & her family...David hasn't been there yet, & we are excited to share it with him. We all love Kim's cooking (& I always enjoy a night off from cooking).

Speaking of food preparation, I've been finding that the crock pot is a good tool for cooking money-saving recipes, as well as for saving time on busy days. Put the meal into it in the morning, and at dinner time, all you need are side dishes; in addition to that, the house smells delicious when the guys come home! Last night it was teriyaki-ginger pork with garlic-sauteed asparagus and couscous on the side. Tomorrow, it will be crockpot chicken enchiladas...a new recipe.

Good days, yet I've been sad this week.

This Sunday, March 8th, is not only the beginning of daylight savings time. It's also

Katie's

birthday,

the day she would be turning 14, if she were still here with us. Two of her childhood girlfriends also have their 14th birthdays this month (Kristi & Colleen, Happy Birthday to you both!).

I remember when we three moms were pregnant; I remember the childbirth classes, and many playdates, since we all lived on the same street, for a time.

It's hard, thinking about this. I was reflecting on Katie's last birthday on earth, March 8, 2007, and it got so painful that I had to draw a line in my mind and STOP.
Katie was in the ICU, recovering from her surgery, with a breathing tube and many IV lines and drains, unconscious for most of the day.

Her favorite nurse was taking care of her (thank you, Melanie!).

Another sweet nurse (who shares her birthday) came in during her day off to bring a gift for Katie. (Thanks, Kim!)

I bought one of those tiny, wind-up music boxes that plays "Happy Birthday to You" and played it. We sang to her. I bought her a super soft, silly stuffed bear to cuddle with, to help her feel cozy.

I had put up many posters and photographs to decorate her ICU room. I posted a birthday countdown, and updated it every day; I used her favorite typefaces & included photos of happier days and well wishes. We decorated her room with paper lanterns (no candles allowed, of course). I took her photo with Melanie, though Katie was not awake. I wrote a message to her on the white board that Mel is holding, so that Katie could someday look back and see how far she had come from that birthday. But she never saw those photos; she never asked much about that time in her recovery, and we learned very clearly that if Katie didn't ask, she didn't want to know.

It was a few weeks later, down in the surgery ward (not the ICU) when she finally was able to take an interest in her birthday cards and gifts. She opened and enjoyed each one. There were dozens of them.

We were going to give a big summer party for Katie, to celebrate her recovery and make up for the missed birthday party, when she felt well enough. She even invited Dr. Waldhausen (her chief surgeon) to come, which was a huge thing for her to do, as she had had quite enough of most doctors. Unfortunately, she relapsed, instead of getting better.

The party that we ended up planning was her Celebration of Life. It's hard to ask a 12-year old what she wants her memorial service to be like; when she brought up the subject, we listened carefully. "I want a party, like Auntie Bernice's [after Bernice's memorial service, family & friends of all ages gathered to share food & drink; kids were playing in & outdoors, people reminiscing -- a real party!] and I want fireworks." We chose beautiful Kiana Lodge, down the street from our house, on several acres of waterfront, where Katie had wanted to hold her wedding reception. We made it as much of a party as possible, but of course, she wasn't with us.

I miss planning her birthday party with her, asking what she wants for dinner, what kind of cake, and who she wants to invite. I want to take her shopping for clothes, out for lunch, for a pedicure, for a makeover. I want to buy presents for her, and write a birthday card. I want to put our heads together and talk and laugh and watch a movie...lots of movies. I want to put my arms around her, kiss her soft cheeks and tell her, "I love you, Sis. I'm so glad that you were born!"

I want to see her smile light up her face, and light up the room.

"I want, I want, I want." Doesn't sound very grateful for what I have, or for what I had. But I miss what we had. It was good.

I want to celebrate her birthday, but Gregg & David don't share my feelings about it. It's a little bit of a lonely feeling, to be the only one who wants to mark the day. I suspect that the three of us will buy a bouquet of helium-filled balloons, at least 14 of them, take them to her bench in Waterfront Park, and set them free.

Creative Every Day = Every Day Living

It's a short school-week here, so once Mr. David had spent his first day back home (Monday) doing homework, he hot-footed over to Seattle to ski with Dr. Brogan & his family during the following day off. Now he is in the thick of making up tests and assignments.

On Monday, I went fabric shopping. I spent Tuesday pinning quilts (CED). Just so you know, the process begins with the purchase of coordinating flannel and cotton. Then I wash all of the fabric, trim the loose ends and iron each piece. Then I cut the roll of batting into one-yard lengths. I lay out the two pieces of fabric, with batting in the middle, (like a sandwich). Then I pin the blanket-binding around the edges, squaring off each corner. When I have a good-sized batch ready, it's time to sew. I sew all the way around the binding, and tack each quilt about 5 times in the middle (to keep the batting from shifting around). Then I sew on a label that says, "Made with Tender Loving Care by Katie's quilters."

Yesterday, I cleaned house, cooked country-style ribs in the crock-pot & baked an apple-berry crisp (CED) for my in-laws, who joined us for dinner. They wanted to hear about David's trip and see his photos.

David has given me permission to post his photos here (in fact, he suggested it). He seemed to like sightseeing historical places more than he enjoyed the Model U.N. process. It appears that he has learned that he wouldn't want to run for political office one day (not that he thought he would); it just became clear that he found the process of parliamentary procedure a bit convoluted. I wish I could get him to guest-post here, as he has been very funny in telling stories from the trip. I will post his contributions soon.

Today's sunrise was amazing. I took photos (all of these are from this morning!) = CED:

I keep practicing the craft of writing. You can see that I may not be able to post every day, but I try to put some creativity into what I do, every day. A CED connection may not be obvious, but to me, nearly everything has creative potential, if you approach it with an open mind.

I want to make a shout-out here to Suz, who generously sent a gift card to Jo-Ann Fabrics: THANK YOU, SUZ! And to Mary Jo, who sent a box of supplies, along with a finished quilt: THANK YOU, MARY JO! And to Sandy, who made 5 quilts and sent them to me: THANK YOU, SANDY! And to my sister-in-law, Linda, who made 4 quilts and sent them to me: THANK YOU, LINDA! I will put all of this to use for the children who are patients at Seattle Children's Hospital.

If you know anyone who

would like to help,

owns a fabric store or website,

has a connection to a fabric manufacturer (or mass retailer),

sews,

has a stash of cotton fabric and doesn't know what to do with it,

is looking for a charity project,

community to join,

group to support in prayer or

in deed (or both!),

please direct them here, and to Katie's CB page (the link is on my sidebar). I would love to keep this momentum going, and let it "snowball," so that the entire hospital would always have a handmade blanket waiting for every patient. Wouldn't that be awesome? THANK YOU for ALL THAT YOU HAVE DONE to support KATIE'S QUILTERS and the CHILDREN at SEATTLE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL!

Silver Sky Monday & Hopeful Parents

This morning, there was a silver sunrise...

...and snow on the ground when I got up! Maribeth & I had lunch together (something I miss a lot since she moved to Kansas) and then we tooled around Bainbridge a bit. She is now with her daughter for the evening.

I sent my first piece in to Hopeful Parents. If you are interested in reading it, it will be posted on the site tomorrow!

We have received a lot of text messages from David, who is having a wonderful time in Washington, D.C. He has sent some phone pics (I hope he is using the real camera some of the time) that are beautiful, though compact. It's so exciting to hear his impressions of historic sites; I can hardly wait to hear the longer version (verbal, instead of text).

I'll try to get some photos with Maribeth and post them later this week, but so far, none have been taken. It's hard to remember to take photos when we are doing normal, everyday things, even though I know she is going to leave soon...

Various & Sundry & NAIMUN

Today, I drove to Seattle to deliver the quilts to Children's Hospital. I didn't go visiting our old "stomping grounds," because I needed to run errands and get home in time to see that David is on track with his packing...because he is leaving tomorrow, very early (due at the airport at 4:00 A.M.!) for Washington, D.C. David is part of the team of 11 students from his high school going to the North American Invitational Model United Nations conference. We are very proud of him for his interest in this, and being accepted as a participant in it. And we are thankful to Grandma and Kappa, who are generously funding the trip as a gift.

The local NAIMUN program is under the care and leadership of David's AP History teacher, whose class David enjoys a great deal. They group is going to see many of the historical and educational sights in Washington and its environs while they are there. David will be gone for a week, which is a big deal for this little mama, but we are very happy and excited for him.

While at the hospital today, I met the Volunteer Coordinator and spoke with her about our quilt project. I have a deep desire to find a way to make blankets for the entire hospital...and I have a few ideas. Do you want to help? Do you know anyone who sews? Do you know anyone who has fabric to donate? Do you know anyone in the fabric business? It takes one yard of cotton and one yard of flannel, per blanket, plus batting, thread and satin binding. Do you know anyone who wants to raise money? THE ENTIRE HOSPITAL NEEDS BLANKETS, but I can't do it all myself. So there; I said it. It's out there in the Blogisphere.

Oh, and Maribeth is coming to stay this weekend, and for part of next week. I can't wait to see her!

I wrote my piece for the "Hopeful Parents" blog (CED!) while I sat on the ferry dock, waiting for the boat. It was a nice place to think, reflect and write.

So now, I am going to make dinner for my guys, and then we are going to bed early. In order to get to the airport at that hour, we have to get up around 1:00 A.M. Sweet dreams!

Sunrise = CED Wednesday

"It is a wholesome and necessary thing for us to turn again to the earth and in the contemplation of her beauties to know of wonder and humility." - Rachel Carson

Apparently, nature is putting on a show in the mornings, especially since we are having sunny, mild days this week. That is the top of Mount Rainier in the second photo, peeking up over Bainbridge Island.

In case you haven't seen it in person, Mt. Rainier is a marvel. It reaches from sea level to 14,000 feet, and on clear days, it is visible from top to bottom in all of its symmetry and glory. It is humbling and wondrous to see...as are the Olympic and Cascade mountain ranges, which border Seattle's vistas on the west and east, respectively. Having grown up with mountains and water all around me, I am highly sensitive to nature's awesome beauty. Seeing those mountains looming over the water is comforting. Being able to watch the sun slip slowly behind the Olympic range is a calming - perhaps a holy - experience in the evenings.

May we stop - look - listen - and allow nature to humble us and fill us with wonder today, and every day. God is a creative artist, whose works can fill us with joy.

Creative Tuesday

Yesterday was housecleaning day. No good pics were taken, but take my word for it: the house is shiny-clean and it smells great. There is something so satisfying about that.

Today was CED Tuesday...

and that meant sewing quilts for Seattle Children's Hospital (SCCA cancer ward) with Rita.

It also meant preparing a nice dinner to celebrate my mother-in-law's birthday (which is coming up on Friday).

She says she is turning 87, but I can't believe that!

I made roast beef, roasted veggies, Gregg made the salad...and I baked brownies (with chocolate truffles in them) for dessert. Gregg brought flowers for his mom, and for me, too! I set the table with our prettiest china so that she would feel special.

David played the piano for us, which we always enjoy...especially Grandma and Grandpa.

I appreciate having such sweet in-laws! They are great people, and they raised a lovely family. I am thankful to be married to their son, & to be part of their family.

A New Dawn

It seems appropriate to accompany these photos of a new dawn, taken this morning,


with the news that I have been invited to contribute to a website/group called Hopeful Parents. The link, which is also on the sidebar, is:

http://www.hopefulparents.org/.

If you are a parent of a child with special needs, or know of a family who has a child with special needs, this website can be a resource for you.

I am humbled by this invitation, and a little bit scared. I don't have an ongoing situation, as most of these parents do, but I know (from experience as Katie's mother) that a child who has cancer is definitely a child with special needs. A family with a member who has cancer has special needs, and a family in grief is a family with special needs.

Thank you, Hopeful Parents, for the invitation to join and contribute. I will do my best for you.

Thank You & Creative Every Day

Thank you for your prayers and kind words of support & compassion. They helped me to get through yesterday. Thanks, Mom & Dad, and Susie Parker for wise, gentle and thoughtful words (these aren't on the blog.) They hit home, and they helped.

You can see why I don't want to go to a grief group, can't you? To be in a whole group of people feeling this? No way; not at this point! Though I cherish the love, friendship, mutual understanding and support that I share with each of the moms I know who have been through this, I don't know if I could take a whole crowd of us in the same place, at the same time. Maybe some day, but not today.

In the midst of this hard time, I got an email from Childlife, requesting more quilts for the hospital, so I've been working on them. Making these blankets always helps; thanks for supporting this ministry, Mom & Dad!

And since our neighbors are opening a new bistro this week:

Burrata Bistro

19006 Front Street, Suite 100

Phone 360.930.8446,

I decided to make a "Congratulations/Best Wishes" card for them, in the form of a large collage. I used photos of Italy and France, and some great shots from old issues of Gourmet magazine. I had put them in boxes to give away or recycle, but hey!--you never know when those things may come in handy! "Creative Every Day" continues to inspire, even in the dark days. This is a photo of the finished piece. I am going to wrap it up with a ribbon and give it to them.

May your day be blessed.

A List of Things to Do/See

I got this from The Jason Show (thanks for the fun questions, Jason. Happy 40th Birthday!).

Do you think you've really lived so far? This is a list of 100 activities--some I have experienced (in PURPLE), some I have not (in blue).

1. Started your own blog (Um, I think I did...)
2. Slept under the stars (Yes, in Colorado, as a teen.)
3. Played in a band.
4. Visited Hawaii (Yes, several times, and I LOVE it)
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Bathed in a river (Is swimming the same as bathing? As in, bathing suit?)
7. Been to the Taj Mahal
8. Walked on a glacier in Alaska (nor on the soil in Alaska, nor been on the water in Alaska...no)
9. Caught and held a snake (If I did, I've blocked it out. Katie did this, without fear.)
10. Spoke in front of a big crowd (Yes, at the Warren Moon-Steve Pool Hospital Guild Auction)
11. Bungee jumped
12. Had a whirlwind love affair that broke your heart (Not unless a summer romance counts)
13. Found an arrowhead or fossil (No, but a lot of Russian-made American Indian glass trading beads)
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Rescued an animal
16. Ate sweet breads, glands or tripe (Glands? Who eats glands? What glands are sold as food?)
17. Seen Mount Rushmore in person
18. Grown your own vegetables (No, but I've eaten a lot of veggies that my dad has grown)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France (Yes)
20. Slept on an overnight train (Stayed awake on an overnight train, to Spokane)
21. Had a pillow fight (As often as possible, when changing the sheets with Gregg)
22. Hiked to base camp on Mt. Everest (No, but with enough immunizations & Pepto Bismol, I would love to do this)
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Watched an animal being born (No, but I was present & fully participating in the birth of both of my own children)
26. Gone skinny dipping (Lake Chelan)
27. Learned a foreign language
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice (Yes, in the summer of 1976)
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Stayed up for more than 24 hours (Yes, in labor/giving birth to my son)
31. Trained a dog to do cool tricks
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors (not the actual HOUSE, but I've been in the area: Alsace, France)
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Can drive a stick shift car (Learned this in high school)
37. Won over $1000 in a raffle or lottery
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing (Yes, in Colorado)
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David (YES! and fell in love with him)
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Been serenaded
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight (Yes)
46. Broke a bone
47. Started your own business
48. Quit a job because you were totally unhappy
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the Eiffel Tower (I've been to Paris, but not up the Tour Eiffel)
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling (in Maui, with Gregg)
52. Kissed in the rain passionately (usually, I go indoors for this)
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in (best time: in Colorado, with a group of friends, in the back of a flatbed truck)
55. Been in a movie (a video, but not a movie)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Joined a prayer group
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies (I helped Katie)
62. Gone whale watching (in Canada, I've watched lots of people who were going whale watching)
63. Received flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma (I would, but I am too small, so they won't let me. EVERYONE who can, should do this!)
65. Gone sky diving (why jump out of a perfectly good airplane?)
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy (Yes, my scratchy polar teddy bear)
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial (been to DC, missed that)
71. Eaten caviar (with pleasure)
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the changing of the guards in London (been there, missed that)
77. Broken something extremely expensive (relatively speaking)
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book (I'd like to...)
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Got a tattoo (still on the fence about this)
83. Been to a coffee shop in Amsterdam (Do you mean a place that offers "wacky tabacky?")
84. Seen the aurora borealis in person
85. Read the entire Bible (most of it, not all)
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (a fish, yes; not an animal)
88. Had chickenpox (Ah, yes; as soon as we returned from our Honeymoon!)
89. Saved someone’s life (I wish I could have)
90. Sat on a jury (I was called, but not chosen. I've heard that many are called, but few are chosen)
91. Met someone famous (Yes)
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one (yes, I have)
94. Toured the UN
95. Hiked to Machu Picchu
96. Swam in the Indian Ocean
97. Conversed with someone when neither of you spoke each others language (Yes, in Holland, Italy and Austria)
98. Dirty danced
99. Been stung by a bee (too many times)
100. Acted in a play (lots of skits & plays, in the old days)

How many of these things have you done?

It Can All be Praise

"Whatever your life's pursuit -- art, poetry, sculpture, music, whatever your occupation may be -- you can be as spiritual as clergy, always living a life of praise."
Pir-O-Murshid Hazrat Inayat Khan, Bowl of Saki

CED = Monkey-Mind Friday

I'm having one of those days. One of those days when you have a plan that you mean to follow, but it breaks into fragments, and you have to decide, on the fly, what to salvage and what to let go.

I had phone calls to make and bills to pay today. I'm half-way through cleaning my house, when I realize that I only meant to surface-clean it today. I've paid the bills, but I need to get to a real P.O. box to mail them. I still have to exercise, and need to run errands on the Island, but I need to go & pick up David in the opposite direction, except I'm not sure what time he'll be ready. I should have let him take my car, but he can't run the errands for me. What to do first? Eat lunch, of course.

Now that I'm done with lunch, I should stop writing and go exercise. Then I can finish cleaning the house, take a shower, and run the errands...if David doesn't call first. And I have an art project in my mind that I really want to sketch out, before I forget what it is and how I was planning to do it...

I think Creative Every Day today = creatively managing monkey-mind. Or is it hamster-wheel mind?