The Generosity of Strawberries

I’m not going to lie. I was feeling anything but generous when I sat down to read through today’s devotional. It had been a long, exhausting day full of never-ending demands from my two small children. Finally, they were otherwise occupied downstairs, so I sat down with a cup of tea and read through the first paragraph. As if on cue, my 2 year old daughter came up the stairs and made a bee line for me. Most days I’m fine with interruptions, but on others, I wonder if someone stole my sweet children and replaced them with little serenity-seeking-terrorists. This was one of those days. When I told her I needed some space because I was reading about Jesus, she literally snatched the book from beside me and sat down to read it for herself. My first instinct was to reproach her (which I did), but then I became intrigued by her voracious appetite for God. She flipped the pages, finding little treasures within the tiny pictures. “STRAWBERRIES!!!” she exclaimed. It was as if she had opened up a love note from Jesus himself, as evidenced by a lovely drawing of her very favorite fruit.

Generosity. The big picture of generosity would be an evidence of God’s love for us spilling out all over those around us in a CRAZY BIG way. But, what isn’t mentioned is the little picture -- the stretching and minor exercises (of our emotions) that must take place before, during, and after our generous heart births a gift for another human who is loved by God. Today, I choose to stretch my heart by handing God one more fragmented piece of my selfishness. I chose generosity in a little way by handing over my one moment of serenity to my daughter. What I was surprised at was the immensity of joy that poured back into my heart as my selfishness budged enough to make room for God’s inflowing. Because I chose to practice generosity...even in the tiniest of ways...I was able to catch a glimpse of a raw and undiluted moment of worship from one spirit to her cherished Heavenly Father. It was simple and yet so extremely challenging to me. Generosity begets generosity, and the minor stretching and daily exercising of this gift lead us down an ever widening path where God has the chance to call us to a level of giving bigger and bigger gifts (and therefore a bigger experience of His love).

My daughter’s attention span quickly moved on. As I finished the devotional and spent time soaking up my God’s words of challenge and love, I found myself flipping through the book until I found the little picture of the strawberry. I smiled at the simple ways that God is generous back. I would have missed this little love note, had generosity not opened up my heart. Little did my daughter know, strawberries are my favorite fruit, too.

 

picture found here

Dichotomies

I like...


•big words (if I'm using them, not you),
•bullet-pointed lists,
•ziploc baggies,
•making complete messes,
•having a clean house (but not cleaning),
•being around lots of people,
•being invisible,
•being an inspiration,
•sleeping late,
•hearing my kids laugh, and
•hearing nothing but silence for the first 2 hours every morning.

It's no wonder I'm as crabby as a dry octopus most days. :}

*GULP*

Nervous? Um...yah. 1st day of Artist in Residence in an elementary school tomorrow...shaving cream, food coloring, water, bubble wrap, and paint. And 300 of YOUR CRAZY KIDS. Nothing could go wrong...right? *twitchily going to go randomly organize something...with ziploc baggies...because somehow that makes me less nervous* *tic* *tic*

I wanna be a fly

My kids are the two most adorable, lovable, "awwww!" inspiring kids around. 

No really. 
They really are.  ;) 

They are also the neediest, whin-y-est, all consuming things I've ever met.  haha!  From the minute I wake up, it's endless questions.
"Hey, Mom, come look at this dead mouse with one hand dangling almost all the way off!  Do you think if I hit him hard enough with my shovel that he'll explode on my new school pants?"

"Tan I havvuh waffuh, puh-WEEEESE, momma?  Waffuh, momma? Waffuh, Momma? WAFFUH, MOMMA...PUH-WEEEEEEEESE???!!!  MOMMA....WAFFUH!!!!!!!!"

"Mom, did I tell you that I'm supposed to be at school early today...like at (5 minutes from now)?"

I am not a morning person.  At 7am, it doesn't matter how cute, how innocent, or how happy Ms. Manners might become at hearing all the "pleases" and "thank yous"...I just want absolute silence until I've had my first cuppa joe and the morning paper.  I'm like an 80 year old Nantucket man trapped in the body of a stay-at-home mom to a small litter of incessently brilliant, creative, pint-sized minds.  Minds attached to mouths that like to talk...A LOT...especially before the coffee has even had a chance to start dripping.

My poor kids.  It usually doesn't end well for them...all my groaning, complaining, and...some days...virtually frothing at the mouth.  I've been known to repeat....with gusto...phrases like "How many hands do I have?" My son usually states like a robot..."Two".  "How many things can I do at once?"  "One." 

Or... "No I will not hold one more (fill in the blank, useless object)!  I AM NOT AN OCTOPUS!!"

Granted, these little phrases barely make sense when you are in your thirties, are in the situation, and are empathetic enough to gather that this one momma is dying a slow death of lack-of-caffeine.  I'm sure my kids are absolutely clueless as to what I'm going off about...something about "octopus arms...not caffeinated enough...why is my creamer all lumpy?".

Whatever. 

Our little verbal dance works for us in the A.M.  They take a couple bunny hops my way, I dodge to the left to fill their plates, they allamander right for the sneak attack, I say random phrases that they translate as "gimme a sec!", I caffeinate (and...on a very terrible day...apologize), and we are off on our day...all smiles.

In the way that only the most trying things can do, I've begun to realize that sometimes I need to approach the world in the very same manner as my unrelenting kids.  They dare to dream, selfishly pull any innocent bystander into their reality, and are willing to yell/scream/plead/cajole until their desires are fulfilled.  This isn't anything new.  Ok, it is freakin' OLD NEWS that the "squeaky wheel gets the grease", but I never really felt brave enough to apply it to my own life...to my dreams...both big and little.  I'm so busy dodging the unanswerable questions, re-covering the unmentionable body parts, and trying to survive that I often can't even make it into the ballpark of the basic question:

"What do I want?"

Do I still have those pieces of my heart that dare to dream, and have the guts to make those dreams a reality?  If so, where are they hiding?  I'm pretty sure they might be found most quickly by searching for those red flags of irritation, the feelings of entrapment or betrayal, insecurity, reasoning, etc.  These negativities have long acted as a time-worn camoflauge.  Buried beneath these opposite emotions lie the remains of those fanciful dreams.  Hope has been deferred by the more "adult" understanding of the way the world actually works.

Am I safer that way?  Is it easier to live life with a constant TO DO list (of the heart) that can/may never be accomplished?  Or is that just an eternal torture...a painfully slow, yet optimistic death?  Since those hopes and dreams won't go away, is it better, then, to cover them with the opposite emotion...fear covering fearlessness...knowledge destroying the superhero? 

Speaking for today only, I am daring to unearth a few of those dreams.  For one splendid night, I am unfurling every fragile wing and letting the slightest breeze carry my heart to a lighter place.  I will dream in a thousand trillion colors, shimmering with the joy that only Hope can bring. These anemic dreams may not have much strength or power at the moment, but I'm pretty sure they can carry my full-sized adult body for one gleaming, spectacular night.  I'll take it.  Not only that, but I'll soak it up, revel in it, and allow it to expand my heart once again.

And, tomorrow, when my reality comes crashing in on me long before my java does, I will close my fist around one sparkling handful of my dreams and hold on for dear life. 

Maybe, just maybe, with one hand holding tightly to Hope and my heart beating frenetically, this momma octopus can worry a little bit less about growing another virtual arm and, instead,

...try to grow a few more pairs of discerning eyes.

Sick Perspective

I like to think that the average person sees art as full of life, beauty, and warmth. 

Not me. 

Ok...sometimes I see it that way, sure!  But, other days it is just more about "seeing" life in just the way that it really is.  Most days, having an artist's perspective...soaking up the intricacies of my surroundings...has great emotional benefit.  Then, there are the days you get a crummy cold....on the ONE DAY you HAVE to make it to the grocery store...with a ear-infection-plagued two year old who spastically is interracting with every touchable thing in her reachable surrounding just trying to stay awake. 

Really, I think I've been fighting allergies, (Yay for Claritin!...and BOO! for this wind!) but this morning it hit another level. I'm downing the Airborne (why have I not bought stock in that stuff yet???!!!), and I *tried* grocery shopping, but.... Let's just say I spent a great deal of quality time in the nastiest bathroom in town (Walmart), going back twice all in a squinchy-butt hurry. Lucky for me, the stall that is big enough to entertain a two year old also has an automatic flusher that evidentally proves that my superpower is INVISIBILITY. It kept flushing (and spraying)...over and over and over. Luckily, I WAS able to verbally abuse my daughter loudly enough just before she actually licked the tiles on the wall behind the toilet. I'm not one to yell, but...I did make an exception today...out of sheer horror and the complete inability to move from my "special seat". *sigh*

Let's just say I've now taken 2 hot showers within a few hours from each other, and I'm headed to bed now...trying not to have nightmares. Ew! Here's hoping I can pull it together long enough to make it to CostCo after I pick Jer up from school. Or, maybe I should just call it A DAY, and go tomorrow. So tempted...

Food for Thought: Color Crush...RED

I'm a pretty monogomous girl with my all-time love of the color purple.

(*shhhh* don't tell.  It isn't a HIGHLY popular color right now...it's kinda like admitting your wedding colors 10 years after the fact. Oh wait. That WAS one of my wedding colors.  [you can send sympathy cards to my hubby later.  when we hit 10 years of marital bliss. just try not to laugh in his face.  it is still kinda fresh for the poor dude. lol.])

However, I do get constant little seasonal color "crushes".  I think I'm allowed.

Red.

Fiery, romantic, full of warmth and passion.  Earthy, bold, and influential. 

Oh...and good to eat.  mmmm.  (Truly, I think I'm quite capable of becoming a 500 pound woman if I weren't so incredibly vain and stubbornly on a perpetual diet to curb myself into eating NORMALLY.  I just love food THAT MUCH.)  *sigh*

I ran out of liquid food coloring at a critical moment making these raspberry meringues, or they would be much pinker.  (I went through almost a whole bottle this weekend having WAY TOO MUCH FUN making mini volcanoes for Jeron and his neighbor friend.  Geez...I LOVE the smell of vinegar.  not.)  They may not be candy cloud pink, but they still taste fabulous with coffee, or...my fave of late...wine, cheese, and meringues.  It makes every moment between 8pm (kids are in bed!!!) and 10 pm (Byron goes to bed weeknights) feel like a spectacular holiday. 

(recipe below)

Isn't it funny how you get a style crush and you start seeing it everywhere?  Yah...here is my lunch today. Red pepper and tomato soup with a little cheese for yum factor. I love this orange-y red paired with a dark turquoise.

Throw in a big of black, green, and yellow...awww.  Perfection.

Not so sure WHY exactly I love Babybel cheese so much.  Maybe because it beats the kids' cheap string cheese by a long shot.  Mabye because the wrapper makes me feel like it is Christmas.  In the fifties.

Maybe because the happy wax looks like a constipated PacMan.

Not gonna lie.  I LOVE that part.

Kids' mini volcanoes

Fill up a Dixie cup with baking powder about half way. Add a few drops of food coloring (let them pick).

Poke a hole in the bottom of a second dixie cup, turn it upside down and place it atop the first cup.  Tape them together around the rims of each cup.  Take your volcanoes outside, or put them in the sink.  Let the child (or help them to)slowly pour in vinegar (through the hole) until it bubbles out.  Once it stops, they can pour more and more.  It'll just keep going...for.e.v.e.r.

Susie's notes: Forget the whole topper thing unless you have tape that somehow works on wax.  My Scotch tape doesn't, and it is a royal pain in the ... to get the cups together.  The kids are just as enthralled with it sans top, and you have way less work to do.  Also, you can do multiple colors for a fun effect.  When you add the baking soda to the cup, add about a 1/2 Tbs. at a time, a drop or two of color, and then more soda.  Keep going, layering soda and color until the cup is as full as you would like.

Raspberry Meringue Hearts

Whites from 3 lg. eggs (room temp)

1/4 tsp. cream of tartar

3/4 cup sugar

1 tsp. Raspberry extract

1/8 tsp. liquid red food color

Garnish: powdered sugar

Position oven racks to divide ofen into 1/3s; heat to 225 degrees F.  Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment and trace heart shaped cookie cutters (with a pencil) to cover each sheet.  Flip the paper over.  Beat eggs with cream of tartar on MED until soft peaks form.  Turn that bad boy up to HI and add sugar...sloooooowly....  Beat 8 munutes or until stiff, glossy peaks form and the mix doesn't feel grainy.  Beat in extract and color until blended.  Pipe mixture onto the hearts, swirling from the outside edges in toward the middle in a concentric pattern, until heart is filled with mix.  Bake 2 hours.  Turn off oven.  Leave meringues in 2 more hours or overnight.  Peel off parchment paper and dust with powdered sugar.  Store airtight or freeze up to 2 months.

Susie's notes:  Scared of "piping" stuff?  Use a large ziploc baggie with the end snipped off.  The hole needs to be kinda big for these to look nice and puffy, so aim for an opening on your piping bag to be not-quite-as-big as the tip of your pinky finger.  I fill up two HUGE cookie sheets with 2 1/2" hearts (40 hearts) and then I make polka dots (like Hershey's kisses) all around the cookies with any remaining mix.  The meringues can easily be used for cake decorating, as toppers on cupcakes, etc.  Here is a pic from my baby shower (with Aislynn).  There is one cookie on the top and then you can see the little polka dots around the bottom, with the roses. 

Enjoy!

What is your color crush this week?

Inspirations: Lessons in Carving

Crazy.

When I lie down to sleep at night, I feel like I'm carving.  Still.  Because I've been doing it all day.  For days and days on end.

No. Not snow.
Not waves, either, unfortunately.

I see the process of painting in sort of a weird way, I think.  I'm not really sure how you are SUPPOSED to see it, but...to me...each canvas is like this GIANT bar of soap.

 Dove soap. 
(because it smells so dang good)

When I put a color on my canvas, it is the surface of the soap.  It is bland and void of depth.  It can be ALL THAT AND A BAG OF CHIPS in its shape and composition, but it is lacking something.  When I paint in a layer of slightly darker color, it carves out a deepness into my image.  I go deeper.  With each molecule of black that I add to my original, boring color...I carve out an existence around the edges of my drawing.  But it isn't enough.  The Darkness can never define ALL of any picture to the point where it meets the great expectations of the vision of the Painter.  Now we move to the White.  It only takes the slightest touch of Lighter colors...usually at the center of each object, to do what no sculptor can master...raise the image right off the plane of surface.  The touch of the Master Artist's brush, soft and gently applied, hits the very core; and it is transcended out into this surreal eternity that can't be explained in 2 dimensions.  The image is shaped by BOTH the Darkness that surrounds it AND the Light that defines/heightens it.

Whoah.

Got a bit philosophical with my late-night self.

Like I said...I see the process of painting weirdly.  To me, it is spiritual.  It is cleansing.  It is life's lessons all wrapped up in a physically fulfilling format.  It is messy.  It is inspiring.  It goes best with true inspiration and a strong cup of coffee.

Why coffee?
Because coffee smells DANG tasty.  
(and because I can't get my paint to smell as good as Dove soap, no matter how hard I try)