Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for shopping choices.
Fresh popcorn is our snack of choice ... hot, lightly drizzled with oil, salted. So, when our popper suddenly died, I immediately looked for a new one.
The last time we replaced the appliance, I discovered that Wal-Mart was the only local store that carried the highly-rated Presto model we preferred. On any given day, I avoid Wal-Mart like the plague. But, that year, I reluctantly bit the bullet and shopped at Wal-Mart.
This time, I was willing to give Wal-Mart about $20.00 worth of business, mainly for expediency's sake. Then Wal-Mart blundered, big time.
According to The Wall Street Journal, Wal-Mart told its employees not to vote for Barack Obama (whose candidacy I support) and other pro-worker candidates who support the Employee Free Choice Act. Electioneering is a corporate no-no.
Anyway, with my trip to Wal-Mart cancelled, I ordered a new Presto popcorn popper on Amazon.com (had to buy a book to earn free shipping, but I'm not complaining). Both items should arrive in about a week. Will be well worth the wait.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Sunday, 10 August 2008 - Bread
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for bread.
Stale bread is not hard; what is hard is to live without bread.
~Paul Claudel, French poet (1868-1955)
Bread, in Egyptian Arabic, is called aish, which literally means life, rather than khobz, the word that other Arab-speakers use. The word reflects the centrality of bread here. This is a culture of bread, not rice, not meat and potatoes, not humus.
~International Herald Tribune, 1.16.08
There are days when I'm sure that I could survive on a diet of bread and water. Of course, the bread must be my own, the water, purified.
I've been making bread for over two years, ever since the local bakery again raised the price on its baguettes. I bought a secondhand breadmaking machine on eBay for around $25.00 and quickly recouped the cost. Fortunately, organic flour, salt, sugar and yeast remain affordable.
Our enduring favorites are Italian focaccio and classic French bread. The focaccio was an instant success. The French bread, however, was not as easy to master especially at high altitude. No matter how I altered the basic recipe, I could not duplicate the crusty baguettes that we love.
About a week ago, I finally discovered the "secret" to making perfect French bread at altitude - bread flour. Now my French bread recipe - tweaked and tested - is my new masterpiece. It consistently produces loaves that are crusty on the outside, moist and chewy on the inside. Each bite reveals just a hint of salt. Perfect!
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for bread.
Stale bread is not hard; what is hard is to live without bread.
~Paul Claudel, French poet (1868-1955)
Bread, in Egyptian Arabic, is called aish, which literally means life, rather than khobz, the word that other Arab-speakers use. The word reflects the centrality of bread here. This is a culture of bread, not rice, not meat and potatoes, not humus.
~International Herald Tribune, 1.16.08
There are days when I'm sure that I could survive on a diet of bread and water. Of course, the bread must be my own, the water, purified.
I've been making bread for over two years, ever since the local bakery again raised the price on its baguettes. I bought a secondhand breadmaking machine on eBay for around $25.00 and quickly recouped the cost. Fortunately, organic flour, salt, sugar and yeast remain affordable.
Our enduring favorites are Italian focaccio and classic French bread. The focaccio was an instant success. The French bread, however, was not as easy to master especially at high altitude. No matter how I altered the basic recipe, I could not duplicate the crusty baguettes that we love.
About a week ago, I finally discovered the "secret" to making perfect French bread at altitude - bread flour. Now my French bread recipe - tweaked and tested - is my new masterpiece. It consistently produces loaves that are crusty on the outside, moist and chewy on the inside. Each bite reveals just a hint of salt. Perfect!
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Saturday, 09 August 2008 - A neighborhood lifeline
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for a neighborhood lifeline.
I'm adding another name to the list of people for whom I wear a yellow LiveStrong wristband. She's a neighbor's mother - early 60s, recently diagnosed with cancer of the appendix (a very rare type).
I'm glad K told me about her mother. Neighbors, though not technically family, appreciate learning about another's personal crisis and struggle. Yes, we share common physical ground. But, an emotional lifeline also runs around the block, linking one house to the next whether we like it or not.
In the end, we don't want to meddle in each other's affairs (our own problems are enough). But, we do want to comfort, lend a hand, pray and make leaps of faith for each other.
Sadness. That's what I feel as I add K's mother to my list. This year's reports of ill or lost loved ones cast a long shadow over my path. At 54, I barely know how to live. When my time is finally up, I wonder if I will know how to die.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for a neighborhood lifeline.
I'm adding another name to the list of people for whom I wear a yellow LiveStrong wristband. She's a neighbor's mother - early 60s, recently diagnosed with cancer of the appendix (a very rare type).
I'm glad K told me about her mother. Neighbors, though not technically family, appreciate learning about another's personal crisis and struggle. Yes, we share common physical ground. But, an emotional lifeline also runs around the block, linking one house to the next whether we like it or not.
In the end, we don't want to meddle in each other's affairs (our own problems are enough). But, we do want to comfort, lend a hand, pray and make leaps of faith for each other.
Sadness. That's what I feel as I add K's mother to my list. This year's reports of ill or lost loved ones cast a long shadow over my path. At 54, I barely know how to live. When my time is finally up, I wonder if I will know how to die.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Friday, 08 August 2008 - The Olympics
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for the Olympics.
Olympics - a lifetime of training for just ten seconds. ~Jessie Owens
Champions aren't made in the gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them - a desire, a dream, a vision. ~Muhammed Ali
We've waited four years for the Beijing Summer Olympics. Now, they're finally here. Let the games begin!
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for the Olympics.
Olympics - a lifetime of training for just ten seconds. ~Jessie Owens
Champions aren't made in the gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them - a desire, a dream, a vision. ~Muhammed Ali
We've waited four years for the Beijing Summer Olympics. Now, they're finally here. Let the games begin!
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Thursday, 07 August 2008 - Summer monsoons
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for summer monsoons.
I feel Mother Nature's compassionate heart. After all, she's sent the summer monsoons my way. Good timing, too. Yes, I could water my thirsty garden more frequently. But, the plants prefer the taste of rainwater.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Photo: A raindrop-adorned spiderweb
Today, I am thankful for summer monsoons.
I feel Mother Nature's compassionate heart. After all, she's sent the summer monsoons my way. Good timing, too. Yes, I could water my thirsty garden more frequently. But, the plants prefer the taste of rainwater.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Photo: A raindrop-adorned spiderweb
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Wednesday, 06 August 2008 - A remembrance
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for a remembrance.
As the bomb fell over Hiroshima and exploded, we saw an entire city disappear. I wrote in my log the words: "My God, what have we done?"
~Captain Robert Lewis, co-pilot of the U.S. Air Force bomber Enola Gay that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, on Aug 6, 1945, instantly killing at least 117,000 people
Most days, I don't consider my Japanese heritage. But two days a year, I do: August 6, the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima, and December 7, Pearl Harbor Day.
On August 6, I remember JM, a former colleague's mother, who, by a strange quirk of fate, survived the bombing of Hiroshima.
A working girl, JM was chronically tardy. But on August 6, 1945, she arrived at the office early to make-up for lost time.
When the atom bomb hit the city at 8:15 AM, she was already working in the library's concrete-encased basement. The basement acted like a bomb shelter, absorbing the impact and minimizing radiation exposure.
At 8:15 AM on any other workday, JM, late as usual, would still be sitting on the crowded commuter train as it neared the main Hiroshima station.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for a remembrance.
As the bomb fell over Hiroshima and exploded, we saw an entire city disappear. I wrote in my log the words: "My God, what have we done?"
~Captain Robert Lewis, co-pilot of the U.S. Air Force bomber Enola Gay that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, on Aug 6, 1945, instantly killing at least 117,000 people
Most days, I don't consider my Japanese heritage. But two days a year, I do: August 6, the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima, and December 7, Pearl Harbor Day.
On August 6, I remember JM, a former colleague's mother, who, by a strange quirk of fate, survived the bombing of Hiroshima.
A working girl, JM was chronically tardy. But on August 6, 1945, she arrived at the office early to make-up for lost time.
When the atom bomb hit the city at 8:15 AM, she was already working in the library's concrete-encased basement. The basement acted like a bomb shelter, absorbing the impact and minimizing radiation exposure.
At 8:15 AM on any other workday, JM, late as usual, would still be sitting on the crowded commuter train as it neared the main Hiroshima station.
Hiroshima marks A-bombingFor this blessing, I am grateful.
The Yomiuri Shimbun
http://www.yomiuri.co.jp/dy/national/20080807TDY01301.htm
HIROSHIMA--About 45,000 people attended a memorial ceremony Wednesday at the Peace Memorial Park here to mark the 63rd anniversary of the 1945 U.S. atomic bombing of the city.Hiroshima Mayor Tadatoshi Akiba said in a peace declaration that the majority of the world wants to abolish nuclear weapons as shown by the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty signed by about 190 states.
"All we need is the strong will and capacity to act to guard the future for our children," he said during the ceremony, which began at 8 a.m.
With music playing to console the spirits of the victims, the names of 5,302 hibakusha (atomic bomb victims) who died during the past year--or whose deaths were confirmed--were added by Akiba and representatives of bereaved families to the Cenotaph for the A-bomb Victims at the park, bringing the total number of victims to 258,310, recorded in 93 books.
Representatives of atomic bomb survivors, Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda and representatives from a record 55 countries, including first-time participant China, offered flowers to the cenotaph.
At 8:15 a.m., the time when the bomb detonated over the city, two representatives of the bereaved families tolled the Peace Bell, followed by a minute of silent prayer for the victims.
Amen.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Tuesday, 05 August 2008 - Baking weather
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for baking weather.
This morning's unseasonably cool temperature means two things: T will enjoy his walk and I get to bake.
No matter the season, I try to follow this energy-saving rule: whenever I use the oven, I must bake more than one item.
Today, three's the charm: one sour cream pineapple streusel coffee cake, one large foccacia laced with olive oil and one platter of spicy cottage fries (need to use up the Yukon gold potatoes).
The only problem with baking is that S and I have to eat the products. I'm not worried about the foccacia and fries. But, the 9"x 13" calorie-rich coffee cake made with two cups of sour cream and six eggs is another story.
Just when I decide to share it with a neighbor, S announces that M, our Air Force Academy cadet, is free for the rest of the day and wants to spend the evening with us. Classes begin on Thursday, so tonight may be the last time we see him for several weeks.
M arrives just as thunderstorms invade the region. Rock climbing is now out of the question. So, he does laundry and hangs out with T.
Back in the kitchen, I'm glad that I baked the bread and coffeecake this morning - they round out our dinner of grilled salmon topped with homemade tomatillo salsa, sweet corn on the cob and steamed broccoli.
The coffeecake's the real star (I originally thought it might be too "grown up" for a 20-year-old). M, however, eats three large pieces and takes another back to the dorm, leaving just enough for S and I to share for tomorrow's breakfast.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for baking weather.
This morning's unseasonably cool temperature means two things: T will enjoy his walk and I get to bake.
No matter the season, I try to follow this energy-saving rule: whenever I use the oven, I must bake more than one item.
Today, three's the charm: one sour cream pineapple streusel coffee cake, one large foccacia laced with olive oil and one platter of spicy cottage fries (need to use up the Yukon gold potatoes).
The only problem with baking is that S and I have to eat the products. I'm not worried about the foccacia and fries. But, the 9"x 13" calorie-rich coffee cake made with two cups of sour cream and six eggs is another story.
Just when I decide to share it with a neighbor, S announces that M, our Air Force Academy cadet, is free for the rest of the day and wants to spend the evening with us. Classes begin on Thursday, so tonight may be the last time we see him for several weeks.
M arrives just as thunderstorms invade the region. Rock climbing is now out of the question. So, he does laundry and hangs out with T.
Back in the kitchen, I'm glad that I baked the bread and coffeecake this morning - they round out our dinner of grilled salmon topped with homemade tomatillo salsa, sweet corn on the cob and steamed broccoli.
The coffeecake's the real star (I originally thought it might be too "grown up" for a 20-year-old). M, however, eats three large pieces and takes another back to the dorm, leaving just enough for S and I to share for tomorrow's breakfast.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Monday, 04 August 2008 - Unknown territory
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for unknown territory.
It is a basic principle of spiritual life that we learn the deepest things in unknown territory. Often, it is when we feel most confused inwardly and are in the midst of our greatest difficulties that something new will open. We awaken most easily to the mystery of life through our weakest side. The areas of our greatest strength, where we are the most competent and clearest, tend to keep us away from the mystery. ~Jack Kornfield
I think the "powers that be" are trying to tell me something. For the second time in the past week, someone has sent me a gift quote.
I ponder the idea of "unknown territory," trying to define its boundaries, describe its landscape, imagine its majesty, test its magic.
Physical unknown territories are easy to describe. A precipice, perhaps, as deep as the Grand Canyon or a craggy peak that rivals Mount Everest. Maybe a barren desert or moonscape that stretches from here to the distant horizon, shadowed, void of familiar lifeforms. Or an intriguing city, like Paris or Tokyo, awaiting my next arrival.
But, the quote's unknown territory, well, it's harder to define. But I know what it is - intuition, emptiness, gut reaction, raw nerve, sixth sense, pit in my stomach, heartache. My spiritual life's private battleground, schoolroom, playground.
Gain access not through competency and worldly success but through my weakest side, the one built of vulnerability, fear, anger, failure and confusion. Then, stay awhile. Visit and explore. Dig and discover. Remain as long as it takes to reach an understanding, to learn a new truth, to restore an ounce of faith, to unveil the mystery. Then, exit quietly through the passage marked epiphany and serendipity.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for unknown territory.
It is a basic principle of spiritual life that we learn the deepest things in unknown territory. Often, it is when we feel most confused inwardly and are in the midst of our greatest difficulties that something new will open. We awaken most easily to the mystery of life through our weakest side. The areas of our greatest strength, where we are the most competent and clearest, tend to keep us away from the mystery. ~Jack Kornfield
I think the "powers that be" are trying to tell me something. For the second time in the past week, someone has sent me a gift quote.
I ponder the idea of "unknown territory," trying to define its boundaries, describe its landscape, imagine its majesty, test its magic.
Physical unknown territories are easy to describe. A precipice, perhaps, as deep as the Grand Canyon or a craggy peak that rivals Mount Everest. Maybe a barren desert or moonscape that stretches from here to the distant horizon, shadowed, void of familiar lifeforms. Or an intriguing city, like Paris or Tokyo, awaiting my next arrival.
But, the quote's unknown territory, well, it's harder to define. But I know what it is - intuition, emptiness, gut reaction, raw nerve, sixth sense, pit in my stomach, heartache. My spiritual life's private battleground, schoolroom, playground.
Gain access not through competency and worldly success but through my weakest side, the one built of vulnerability, fear, anger, failure and confusion. Then, stay awhile. Visit and explore. Dig and discover. Remain as long as it takes to reach an understanding, to learn a new truth, to restore an ounce of faith, to unveil the mystery. Then, exit quietly through the passage marked epiphany and serendipity.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Sunday, 03 August 2008 - Ten fewer degrees
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for ten fewer degrees.
Not much to say except to report that it's at least ten degrees cooler today.
Funny how comfortable 90 degrees feels when you've survived 100 degree temperatures for the past few days. This year, our usually tolerable Colorado summer is one continuous hot flash with no relief in sight.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for ten fewer degrees.
Not much to say except to report that it's at least ten degrees cooler today.
Funny how comfortable 90 degrees feels when you've survived 100 degree temperatures for the past few days. This year, our usually tolerable Colorado summer is one continuous hot flash with no relief in sight.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Saturday, 02 August 2008 - Mystery and unexpected guests
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for mystery and unexpected guests.
Let mystery have its place in you; do not be always turning up your whole soil with the plowshare of self-examination, but leave a little fallow corner in your heart for any seed the winds may bring ... Keep a place in your heart for the unexpected guests, an altar for the unknown God. ~Henri Frederic Amiel
This quote arrived unexpectedly the other day. A gift of sorts. After reading the words and pondering their meaning, I know that I am guilty, as accused.
When it comes to my plowshare of self-examination, I repeatedly turn up my whole soil and work it to death with self-talk that is too critical, too controlling and too demanding.
So, just as I do with my outdoor gardens, I must find an inner space where I can readily plant new seeds. Probably a small piece of my weary heart. A fitting altar to my God.
Then, I must keep the plot fertile and fresh, ready to accept seeds of change, joy or opportunity that blow my way on uncertain winds.
Only then will I gladly welcome unexpected guests into my life. Only then will mystery have its place in me.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for mystery and unexpected guests.
Let mystery have its place in you; do not be always turning up your whole soil with the plowshare of self-examination, but leave a little fallow corner in your heart for any seed the winds may bring ... Keep a place in your heart for the unexpected guests, an altar for the unknown God. ~Henri Frederic Amiel
This quote arrived unexpectedly the other day. A gift of sorts. After reading the words and pondering their meaning, I know that I am guilty, as accused.
When it comes to my plowshare of self-examination, I repeatedly turn up my whole soil and work it to death with self-talk that is too critical, too controlling and too demanding.
So, just as I do with my outdoor gardens, I must find an inner space where I can readily plant new seeds. Probably a small piece of my weary heart. A fitting altar to my God.
Then, I must keep the plot fertile and fresh, ready to accept seeds of change, joy or opportunity that blow my way on uncertain winds.
Only then will I gladly welcome unexpected guests into my life. Only then will mystery have its place in me.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Friday, August 01, 2008
Friday, 01 August 2008 - Anonymity
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for anonymity.
When I run errands, I'm usually an anonymous figure. A task-oriented shopper, I slip in and out of stores, libraries, gas stations and post offices like a person on a mission - efficient, quiet and focused. That's just the way I like it.
Although I very rarely meet anyone I know or engage strangers in long conversations, I am not asocial. I do chat casually with other customers while waiting in line at the cashier's station or fabric cutting table. I remember to ask a favorite store or library clerk about his or her day. And, I always wish anyone who crosses my path a good day.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for anonymity.
When I run errands, I'm usually an anonymous figure. A task-oriented shopper, I slip in and out of stores, libraries, gas stations and post offices like a person on a mission - efficient, quiet and focused. That's just the way I like it.
Although I very rarely meet anyone I know or engage strangers in long conversations, I am not asocial. I do chat casually with other customers while waiting in line at the cashier's station or fabric cutting table. I remember to ask a favorite store or library clerk about his or her day. And, I always wish anyone who crosses my path a good day.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Thursday, 31 July 2008 - Shade
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for shade.
S, T and I arrive early at the Ute Valley Park boulders. It's 9 AM and already energy-sapping hot.
The boulders rise above us forming a welcomed sandstone shield. They willingly absorb the sun's rays and mercifully shade our staging area. I anticipate a productive session figuring out moves on current projects.
T, who doesn't tolerate summer's heat very well, is very glad that our "playground" is cool and comfortable. So are we.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for shade.
S, T and I arrive early at the Ute Valley Park boulders. It's 9 AM and already energy-sapping hot.
The boulders rise above us forming a welcomed sandstone shield. They willingly absorb the sun's rays and mercifully shade our staging area. I anticipate a productive session figuring out moves on current projects.
T, who doesn't tolerate summer's heat very well, is very glad that our "playground" is cool and comfortable. So are we.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Wednesday, 29 July 2008 - Good news
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for good news.
This entry will be short and sweet.
My 83-year-old mother was hospitalized last week with pneumonia, a dangerous illness given her fragility. (My parents live in Southern California - a long 1,500 miles from Colorado Springs.) Fortunately, she responded quickly to treatment and rest. Now, she is well enough to return home tonight - a day earlier than her doctors originally expected. Very good news, indeed.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for good news.
This entry will be short and sweet.
My 83-year-old mother was hospitalized last week with pneumonia, a dangerous illness given her fragility. (My parents live in Southern California - a long 1,500 miles from Colorado Springs.) Fortunately, she responded quickly to treatment and rest. Now, she is well enough to return home tonight - a day earlier than her doctors originally expected. Very good news, indeed.
For this blessing, I am grateful.
Amen.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Tuesday, 29 July 2008 - A homegrown snack
Dear God:
Today, I am thankful for a homegrown snack.
My small edible garden can't provide all the food I need to survive. So, I'll settle for a snack.
Today, we enjoyed:
For this blessing, I am thankful.
Amen.
Today, I am thankful for a homegrown snack.
My small edible garden can't provide all the food I need to survive. So, I'll settle for a snack.
Today, we enjoyed:
- 6 blackberries
- 1 tomato ("Fantastic")
- 1 Japanese eggplant, about 4" long
- 1 alpine strawberry
For this blessing, I am thankful.
Amen.
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