Saturday morning grateful

I'm cleaning house this morning.  Nothing to be grateful for, except that we are guests here and it feels good to be able to contribute.  It may take a while before we are able to get a place of our own.  Our housemate, Hank is so generous.  We pay him for electricity and gas and it seems what we pay him comes back to us 10 fold in friendship and other things as well.  Ever since we have known him, he has collected $1 bills for us to use as we see fit.  He still does that.  We end up spending a lot of that on the ministry, 

I wash Hank's clothes along with ours and try to keep the kitchen spotless.  It's not much, but it's something.  We are scrubbing now to get ready to put up Christmas decorations.  Hank brought down an unbelievable amount from the attic.  Probably can't use it all, but it's fun looking through it.

What I can't manage, Robert and Andrea do.  They are so precious to me.  Andrea is better about chores than cleaning her room, but she's learning.  Robert does all the heavy stuff for me.  When he first got here, this house was an unbvelievable mess.  He started to clean right away and worked the entire two months to get it ready for us.  The room we sleep in was packed to the ceiling with donations of clothes and "stuff" for Mexico.  Rob was tireless.  Hank's friends came over and thought they were in the wrong house.  Now Hank is getting used to it.  I wonder what will happen when we leave.

Gratitude comes in many forms.  There's the big stuff:  life, family, kids, etc.  But there's also the little stuff that touches the deepest part of the soul.  A smile when I don't feel up to par will break the cloud from my countenance.  A quick note from a friend will do the same.  I may well take the beg stuff for granted.  I am eternally grateful for a loving Father and all the little stuff that comes my way to remind me just how grateful I am.

 

Another memory

I got to sleep in until nearly 9 am.  It was delicious.  I could think of many Thansgiving days where crack of dawn was the norm.  This year it's just the three of us and we can do as we like, eat when it's done - no pressure.

After Hank spread his famous salsa all over the kitchen, Andrea and I cleaned up the mess and got to work.  With delicious pumpkin roll already made and ready to slice, the turkey and fixin's were the order of the day.  With each step, Andrea would ask, "Wat is dat, Mama?"  At the ranch, I cooked turkey on a rotisserie - we didn't have the use of an oven.  I would explain to her and smile at the wonder on her face.  Did I have that look when I was young?  At her age, I was cooking turkey!

It is so cool to look into her sparkly black eyes and see the newness of nearly everything she does.  Mostly, it's smaller kids who still have that wonder, but having just left Mexico, everything is new for her. That makes it new for us as well.  It's like having a baby when you are old.  You never knew how wonderful they could be. 

 It really is different, you know.  During the last 11 years, I had tiny babies many times, often more than one.  Andrea was one of those babies.  I adored my children when they were born, was in awe of God and the process of birth, but I worried how they would turn out.  I worried that I couldn't do the job well.  I worried what others would say.  When you are older, you just don't care about those things.  Their importance is low on the list. 

My first Thanksgiving with Andrea, she weighed just 10 pounds.  She was 8 1/2 months old.  She had doubled her weight in a month.  There was no awe in her face.  She was struggling for survival.  Not so now.  She is full of awe at every turn and we are full of her.  What a grand pleasure!

So the meal came out of the oven late, about six pm.  It didn't matter what time we ate, because it was just the 3 of us.  Andrea could not believe the big, browned turkey!  She wondered why I called it a bird and I reminded her of the turkeys we kept at the ranch.  Her eyes opened wide!  I could almost see her thoughts and the resolution not to eat that thing.  Dressing was my way this year and I put some of that, some turkey, yams and peas on her plate.  Robert got a leg.  We took pictures.  We ate.  They stuffed themselves.  I nibbled.  After cooking all day, I wasn't really hungry.  Everything was delicious.  I wish you could have seen Andrea's first bite of candied yams!  It was phenomenal!  Her eyes actually watered and she said, "Mom!  I didn't know dis would taste like dat!"

We'll have more Thanksgivings together and maybe they will be more commonplace.  This one, however, was one in a million.  I can't wait for Christmas.

We are truly blessed.

Thankful

First a memory that came to me this morning;

My mother and I boarded the train at Union Station in L.A. and headed north to spend Thanksgiving with my sister Sharon.  She was having a rough time.  Her very premature baby had died just a month or so before.  I was 10 years old. 

I loved the train.  I ran from car to car, meeting people on the way.  My mom and I especially liked the dining car.  Mom sat there with something to drink and her cigarettes.  I learned to play cards with a dapper old man.  The train took forever to reach Walnut Creek.  It stopped at every little burg on the way.  Mom called it a milk train. 

The scenery was great!  I had seen some of these things before, but from the train it seemed brand-new all over again.  There were bazillions of cows and farms and trees.  I couldn't get enough.  I wouldn't be surprised if my face print on the windows wasn't permanent.

When we arrived, Sharon picked us up and took us to her home.  They lived in Navy housing.  I had never seen anything like it.  White weather-beaten siding as far as the eyes could see.  The wood was only about 2 or 3 inches wide each strip.  It didn't stop for each apartment, rather ran the whole length, probably 20 or so units at a time.  Outside the back doors, there were clotheslines as far as the eye could see, with assorted clothing hanging there.  There were no fences, but a lot of grass and lots of kids.  Since there was no school, the area was packed with kids of all ages.  I stood back and watched them play.  I wasn't much of a joiner.  Besides, I felt better with adults.

Inside, Sharon had all the fixings for a great turkey dinner.  She looked at Mom and said, "I don't know what to do."  Mom shoved me in and said, "Penny will help."

So that day, I taught my big sister how to make a turkey.  I felt so grown up in my skinny frame, pulling pinfeathers from the bird, stuffing and basting.  My sister looked at me with a new respect and it was grand.

 

Studious

Here's my baby studying.  She's having a tough time of it.  I would turn back time if I could and teach her the basics years ago.  Isn't it funny how the basics are often the hardest to learn?  They are the stepping stones to more learning and I find she's mad at me most of the time.  She can't figure out money no matter how hard we try.  I thought that came natural to girls!

The English language is also a stumper.  We add so many letters that really aren't necessary.  When she writes a paragraph in Spanish for me, it's all one sentence connected by &'s.  When I correct and translate for her to copy, she doesn't understand why all the periods.  The vowels all sound different and "e" and "i" get mixed up all the time.  It's a monumental task.

I would hate to be 10 years old and just learning what my peers learned years ago.  I would hate to be 10 years old, period.  She's a spunky kid.  "I don't gonna be stupid, mom!" she shouts.  She cries with frustration, takes a break and comes back for more.  I would have quit long ago, but not this kid.  She wants more and she wants it now. 

Her rewards are games and television.  She loves television, which we didn't have for her in Mexico.  And of course it's all in English which helps her.  I have to learn balance, though, because she would live in front of the TV.  Dad gets her to watch the NASA channel with him and she writes reports for her school advisor.  Works for me.

She's looking forward to the holidays, her first as an "American girl."  Me too.  It will be the first time in years we haven't celebrated as a family of 15 or more.  Just the 3 of us.  That's a nice sound.  Hubby, me and one smart little girl.  Wow.

 

 

Photo Scavenger Hunt #7

Picture # 1 - Underneath these poor abandoned tomato plants is what used to be a small fountain and  pond.  Now the only thing lurking there is the potential for West Nile Virus.  Must get some bleach in there soon.

Picture # 2 - Our room-mate is a body and fender man and I found this old car stuck under the avocado tree.  I didn't get closer because - who knows what's creeping around in there.

Picture # 3 - Wonderful for summer sitting, the swing has become a bird-bench, a place to toss stuff we are going to "get around to" and a bed for the next door neighbor's cat.

OUCH!

The cast came off today!  I was so excited about it.  I wanted to free my wrist for the bath, for dishes, for lotion and to drive.  I had to feel better out of confinement. 

WRONG!! :(

It only hurt this much right after I broke it (pout!) and now my hand must weigh 50 lbs if it's an ounce (pout, pout).  The doc ordered a brace which I hoped I wouldn't need, but is now saving my sanity. Man!  It's tough getting older! 

I broke my other wrist at the tender age of 12 and was totally healed and out of the cast in like, 4 weeks.  What's up with that?

Anyway, all else is fine here.  My daughter doesn't want to study, my hubby is still sick and now our room-mate is sick, too.  We have beautiful sunny California weather but no one besides me wants to enjoy it. 

Enough complaining,  It could be worse.  We could have snow.

Another Journal . . .

I've started another journal.  It's an autobiography of sorts.  I promised one day to write the story of the child I gave up for adoption.  Many years ago, he came looking for me.  Now he's found his dad.  It's time to write.

It's as much my story as it is his.  He'll have to write his own side.  I'm going to put the story in installments.  The first two read one and two.  After that, they will seem out of order as newest entries show first.  I've already had a lot more to say than I thought I would. 

Look in if you dare. 

http://journals.aol.com/firestormkids04/Mystory-myway/