Spellbound

I've never really understood people who don't like to read, even children and teens today. To have a rainy day outside, snuggled on the couch with a good book (in the winter time with a fire is even better), what more is there to want?

This past summer a friend asked if I would be interested in joining a book club. I jumped at the chance. Since both our husbands rope three times a week, we wanted some sort of "club thing." Our first meeting, to pick books, was attended by six people. Our second meeting had twelve! Since no one had been in a book club before, it was a little like the blind leading the blind, but we all had a good time and were ready for our next "assignment."

Also at our second meeting we decided we needed a name. Book Babes and Literary Ladies sounded lame, but when one member said, "Oh, you'll probably think this is corny...Spellbound," that's what we were indeed, and hence, we had a name!

Another reason why I'm grateful for this club is that it gets me reading during the school year. Usually, I don't have time (or so that's the excuse I made), but now I'm making time. And why shouldn't we make time for activities that we enjoy? Also, being in a book club has gotten me out of my preference rut. I'm exploring new areas that I would have overlooked before and missed a great read!

Big Stone Gap by Adriana Trigiani and Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen are the two we've read so far, and I recommend both, especially Gruen's.

Enjoy! May you become Spellbound, too!

Playboy and Body Image

I've started Weight Watchers for the third time now. I was sitting on the bed and happened to glance over and caught a reflection of myself in the mirror. I looked like a frumpy toad. I said, "Okay, here we go again."

I like Weight Watchers because nothing is off limits. I just have to decide if I REALLY want it (points and all), and when I'm in the right mind-set, I do quite well. Matter of fact, the first time I joined, I was within eleven pounds of my goal weight. I thought I could do it myself, but I guess having to go in and have someone else know my weight is my big motivator. Whatever works. This is my third week. They (haven't figured out who "they" are yet) say that something becomes a habit after twenty-one days. I disagree. I give up biting my nails for Lent, but...I've been on Weight Watchers now for twenty-one days and I would still rather have a Krispy Kreme doughnut instead of an apple...

But sometimes I want to take the easy road out and blame my weight issues on my dad. He's been a subscriber to Playboy for most of my life (a little detour when he married the evil witch - but that's a whole other blogg). I think from a very early age, I was wrongly influenced about body image. Whenever my dad's magazine came in, I would always find the centerfold and look at her body measurements, thinking that was the way I needed to look. I must confess that MANY "I must, I must, I must increase my bust" exercises were in vain. Weird how I ab-so-lutely LOVED Barbie, but I never wanted to have her body. Also weird how good ol' Marilyn Monroe was in Playboy, and she was no size 2!!

I often hear the question, "Would you rather have beauty or brains?" I want brains, but I don't want to be compared to a slug either. Face it - it's all about confidence. If you want to wear that lycra, butt-hugging leopard print, you go, girl!

Coping with Death

Yesterday during Sunday school we found out that one of our elderly members died. It's so odd how, in the elderly especially, a hip fracture seems to be the beginning of the end. My own great-aunt's demise was the same.

I find that to console myself, I turn to John Donne's Holy Sonnet #10. I don't think anything better can be said. I know I want this beautiful piece of verse to be read at my funeral...

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Death is conquered and we are at peace with God in heaven. What more is there?

Giving Generously

I am a member of a handbell choir. It's relatively new (one year), and even though I have forgotten how to read music (but I was once a second-chair clarinet player, I really enjoy it. I mark my notes (I'm the A and B bass notes) and manage to effectively play all the measures during rehearsal, only goofing a few during an actual performance. But I digress...

Over a month ago after bell practice, one lady informed all of us that we were hosting a wedding reception. One of our recently graduating seniors was getting married. After the "whose buying what" was finalized, I agreed to the cheese, grape, and cracker plates. After paying $33 for the cheese alone, the week before I was instructed to "cut the grapes into small bundles." Afterall, it would be easier to pick up a small bundle rather than pull grapes off a stem. So that Saturday morning, while I was snipping way, I became a little snippy myself. In addition to the food items, I had also bought a $40 gift card. Here I was, taking my preciously anticipated time off to "snip grapes into bundles" to decoratively arrange with the three different kinds of cheese cubes and crackers for a young girl who didn't know me from Adam. The boy, who was a member of the church, had barely ever spoken to me. The more I thought about it, the more indignant I became. Why do I do these things? Why do I agree to do things that I don't want to do? Simple, I don't want to look like a heel. So while I was on the phone with my mother and acting like a P.A.M. (pissing and moaning), it occurred to me I was in the same boat in 1984. For my wedding reception, friends of my soon-to-be-in-laws where helping cook the pig for the barbecue, preparing the side dishes, and everything else that goes into a Texas barbecue. I didn't know them from Adam either, and they only knew me as their friend's son's fiance, but they did it because they were generous.

Eating crow is like eating Brussels sprouts...We don't like to eat it, but every once in awhile it's good for us.

I went to a meeting this morning ADAMANT that I wasn't going to leave as the president for the 2007 year. Guess what, I'm president. It's true. I looked around at the women there (I'm the youngest at 42 - most are either pushing 70 or are on their way to 80) and I thought, "The younger crew has got to step up." We forget (or don't want to remember) that these people are not going to be around forever. So after some adjustments were made, I agreed to the job, and the secretary, who also came in with the attitude that she wasn't going to be secretary, agreed to the position for next year. And, of course, after it was decided, all the ladies told me to call on them if I needed help. Maybe it's just having the title that turns them off, but I know I can delegate away and they'll oblige without hesitation because they have the right spirit of giving.

Having them supporting me and being wonderful role models, I know I will have no problems. I just have to remember not to spread myself too thin. I'd rather do a few things well than many things poorly. I also have to remember that when I volunteer to do something, I have to do it for the right reason - because it makes my spirit happy.

What did Christopher Columbus REALLY discover?

Remember the sing-songy verse you learned in elementary school: "In 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue"? And then, of course, the ships were named: The Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria.

When I was younger, I thought it was great thing what Columbus did; afterall, without him, I wouldn't be in this great land.

Or would I?

Now it's more, We're celebrating someone getting lost.

How can one discover what isn't lost? People were on this land doing quite well, thank you very much. So then I thought about the word discover and flipped open Webster's Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary to see what synonyms accompanied the word. I found that discover also means expose - "to make known." That's more like it; he made known that there was land that other people had already known existed.

I think of my European ancestors, and sometimes they sadden me. It seems wherever they ventured, they exploited it. Too bad the Native Americans didn't have the means like Japan did when they reclosed their ports to Western traders in the seventeenth century, remaining, basically, in isolation until the 1850s. What would this land be today if Columbus was met with a bit more resistance? But Native Americans felt they didn't own the land; who were they to turn someone away...

I heard someone once say that in the grand scheme of things, America was "discovered" to later (being now) to help Israel. I have to think about that some more...Do more Jews reside in America than any other place?

So, on those trips when your spouse won't stop and ask directions, let him go. Who knows what fantastic "discovery" you'll find! Just don't mislabel the people you meet.

What's in a Name?

In Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, Juliet posed that question. So when I had learned of my cousin's blog, I thought, "How neat! A journal for the world to read." I thought her title, Flourishingmother, was fitting for her, but when I started pondering my own "identity," and the impact I'm sure it would have, I then thought, "What am I doing?" I'm sure others have thought the same. One time I almost entered some of my poems in a contest - a bunch of rambling thoughts, but I liked them. I had to collect ten of them and name my collection. I chose Snow Is on the Screen and Static Is the Sound. (It's that channel you have on your T.V. that's not quite within range. You can see the picture and hear the dialogue, but...)
I like that idea and what it can imply. At times my writing will make perfect sense (whether you agree or disagree), and other times you'll think, "What?"
So, what's in a name? Whatever you want to get out of it.