All I Want for Christmas
And a Happy New Year
With regard to sleeping alone
“I don’t like to sleep alone, sad to think some folks do,” So crooned, the 
singer. But today I write on behalf of sleeping alone. The best thing about sleeping alone is uninterrupted snoring. When sleeping alone, I can snore all I want. No poke and prods, no shaking and waking; just sound, uninterrupted sleep.
Since snoring has such a bad reputation with roommates, campers, and close knit families, let me explain why this is important to me. For the majority of the years of my life, I have been a light sleeper. My mother even said so. I did not even allow her to play the piano or vacuum while I napped as an infant. As I made my way through childhood, every bump in the night, every creak and groan of the house was likely to wake me. I was constantly vigilant, even in sleep. Never did I relax. This trait came in handy when raising my own children. When they needed me, I was there in a whisper. When my daughter came along, I cultivated a skill of not only waking at a moment’s notice, but also falling back to sleep quickly. I was many years into adulthood before I learned to sleep deep and long. By that time, tissues, nose and throat membranes had aged, swollen, become vibrant. Also by that time, through advertisement of remedies, snoring had moved from a natural result of sleep to an unwanted social fax pas to be remedied and cured. I am sure I possess faults that need to be addressed and corrected; but sleeping deep, care-less, and waking refreshed is not one of them.
Yes, the best thing about sleeping alone is uninterrupted snoring. The worst thing about sleeping alone will probably not receive voice from me in public pages.
Needs, Wants and Answered Prayers
It is important to have needs and wants; and to be able to identify them. How else will you know when your needs are met? How else will you know if you got what you wanted-or if a prayer was answered?
For too long I was timid and lazy about this. Rather than coming boldly to the throne of that Higher Power, rather then knocking on the door insistently, repeatedly, until my needs were met and prayers answered; I simply waited, timid and needy, saying to myself, “God knows what my needs are before I ask. My God will supply all my needs. I will know it is a true need, not just a frivolous selfish desire; when the need is met.”
Like everyone else, I have the basic need for food, shelter, and love. I want to be successful enough to feed, shelter, and love others with material provision, too. But it seems I get the cart before the horse a bit if I am straining to do these things for others, but I am still engaged in self-neglect, self-hate, and a homelessness of soul.
I want to take care of myself, to provide for my needs, and to have enough to share with others. I want to love myself grandly, so I can love others as I love myself. These are my identified needs, goals and prayers. I will know when they are answered.
Writing a friendly letter
Dear Friends,Â
I post these pictures to you, not to gloat, nor to conjure jealousy; but so you can see that all is well with my spirit. You know how much mountains mean to me.Â
Today, I am enjoying an unfettered day, which is different than a day off or a free day. Unfettered days can be busy, and I have accomplished a lot mentally, spiritually, and physically.
 These days, I get a real workout just going up and down three flights of stairs. That means my walks are taken for the sheer pleasure of inhaling sea air and strolling on the beach. Very uplifting.Â
 Yesterday, I trained 9:00 A.M. to 5:00 P.M. Wednesday was the same. Tuesday was my first day of training and I spent all day Monday with son Kevin, DIL Sarah, and the four grandkids. It was lovely to sight-see in Seattle with them. I treasure my children and grandchildren.
 Today, I woke in the company of my thoughts and worked through a number of things before rising. As my tea and oatmeal heated, I grated three zucchini, grown in my cousin’s garden, and sliced some yellow summer squash to set aside for dinner. Three trays of green tomatoes are slowing changing color on the granite kitchen window sill. I have been eating sautĂ©ed veggies with a sprinkling of bacon or cheese for most meals. The owners of the house in which I am rooming (my cousin and his wife) are touring England and I am luxuriating in the solitude of a quality, well-appointed mini-mansion. I am also scoping out the neighborhood for rooms to rent as I take my near daily walks. Â
 This morning the sun was shining brilliantly and I treated myself to a walk to Saltwater Park and a stroll along Richmond Beach,
snapping a bunch of pictures. On my return to the house I enjoyed a shower, a pedicure, arranged a few things, and then walked 12 blocks to the Market to buy flour and sugar and eggs (to go with the grated zucchini, don’t you know). A canvass Core Knowledge bag with shoulder straps is ideal for such a trip to market.
 One of my friends from the dessert of Colorado commented that I will probably meet a lot of interesting folks in Seattle, and she is right. Seattle is an interesting blend of the Wild West and New England. I am looking forward to my impending job of checking groceries at Safeway. Not only will it be nice to make a living, I can’t think of a better way to get to know the community.
 Please write soon. I long to hear your news. I am only as far away as your laptop or computer keyboard, so don’t be a stranger. You have enriched my life.
 Time for me to close now, and walk to the library to post this – also to pick up a good read: The Shape of Mercy, by Susan Meissner – and a Brian McLaren book.
A Parable about major surgery and marriage
A dearly loved one was in a coma, and had lain that way for months, 
unresponsive to medical intervention and ministrations of close family members. After much consultation, the doctors said it appeared the immediate family had a choice to make: Leave the beloved on all invasive support systems, in which case death was inevitable, but might take an indefinite amount of time, maybe years. Or, detach life support systems and stand by and comfort as the loved one passed through the valley of the shadow. Both doctors called in for consultation freely attested they had seen occasional patients rally and live full lives after removal of life support. The next of kin saw a ray of hope in this possibility of miraculous recovery.
The next of kin nodded tearfully and said, “I see the plug has to be pulled. I will stand by and comfort if this is the end, or I will stand firm and cheer while the beloved gains strength if this is a rally.”Â
Then began other family members to bicker and to say, “What do you think you are doing? This never works. Put the plug back in, the doctors do not know what they are talking about.”
The compassionate doctors, finding that another family member continued to slip in during the night and tamper with the equipment; and seeing that the next of kin did not have the strength to withstand the clamor of the ignorant; consulted once more with the immediate family.
“We are agreed,” the physicians said, “that the best and least invasive course of action is to pull the plug and to nurture the patient toward strength if that becomes possible. We are also agreed that to simply leave the patient on complete support is sure death. We recommend, that you move the patient from ICU to a convalescent center. There is one other medical option, quite aggressive and the odds are 50-50. It involves major surgery.”
What think you that the next of kin will decide? And if the next of kin opts for 50-50 surgery in the hope of saving the beloved and the beloved dies, what then will the other family members say? Will they not blame the next of kin for killing the beloved? And will not the next of kin be assaulted from time to time with deep depression and doubt?
And can the acceptance of blame or all the guilt in the world bring back the dead?
Hear me now; the beloved is my marriage. I am the next of kin who took responsibility to sign for major surgery. My marriage is dead. All the blame and guilt and acceptance of responsibility in the world cannot bring it back. Will I forgive and grieve and move forward into full health, or will I hold on to my shame and insist there is no solace, forever?
Children’s Fiction for Autumn Reading
Autumn is here. Leaves are beginning to change color and fall. It’s that kind 
 of weather again. Time for baking cookies, for lighting the fireplace. Time to curl up with a mug of apple cider or hot chocolate and a good book. Do you read good books to your children? Do your children like to read chapter books for themselves? Now is the time to order The Pancake Cat for your cozy times. The Pancake Cat is available online, or by special order from your favorite local bookstore. In honor of the changing of the season, here is my favorite chapter for free. You can also read chapter one at Xlibris.
Chapter 18
Showdown
Jim Deckert’s dog was loose. How he got out was a mystery. The Deckerts had installed a five foot chain link fence two years ago when they moved in. Chain link was a little unusual in a neighborhood where everyone seemed to prefer the appearance of six foot wood slats. The best thing about chain link was that Andrea could see right through the Deckert’s yard into Mrs. Garcia’s yard. This morning there was no need to see into other yards. Frank, the dog, was free. Did some sixth sense whisper to him that cranky Mr. Hinkman was in Houston visiting his daughter? Never mind how he had won his independence; Frank was now trotting up the alley, making detours into  every yard with an open driveway gate. Andrea and Philip were eating oatmeal, so it wasn’t Saturday. Gracie was on the patio happily consuming a pancake, leftover from a few days before.
“Frank’s playing in the alley,” chortled Philip.
“Maybe he doesn’t have school today,” said Daddy as he came into the room and grabbed the car keys.  A burst of laughter came from the table.
“Hurry Andrea or you’ll be late for school,” called Mom from the other room.
“Frank doesn’t have school today,” choked Andrea.
“Well, middle school isn’t always in session on the same days as your school. Maybe Frank’s school is having a teacher work day,” reasoned Dad.
Andrea and Philip laughed helplessly.
“Middle school is in session today, Daddy,” said Andrea, “Tex left 30 minutes ago.”
“Tex? Is that the name of the Furwakawa boy? Where did he get a name like Tex? Frank sounds like a nice name for a neighbor boy.”
“Frank is a dog,” said Philip. “Here he comes.”
Frank trotted in the gate and up the cement drive without breaking pace. He trotted straight toward Gracie. Gracie was so intent on the last half of pancake he did not notice Frank’s approach until it was too late.
Frank barked. Gracie startled and ran. Frank chased him across the yard and up the nearest tree. Losing interest, the dog returned to polish off the pancake. Apparently Gracie never forgot who it was that cost him the pancake. He stayed hidden the remainder of the day, biding his time. Next day, and the next, Frank was safely behind locked gates. On the third day Gracie made his move. He circled Frank’s yard. He came close to the fence. Staying about six inches from the chain link, he meowed. Frank bounded to the fence barking. Gracie ran the length of the yard with Frank in pursuit on the other side of the fence. He turned at the corner and ran back. Finding Frank could not get to him, he added a grand finale.
Leaping high up on the fence, he clung there, spread eagle, three inches out of Frank’s reach. Gracie hissed and meowed, taunting Frank. Frank barked and yelped and circled the yard in a frenzy. Finally Jim Deckert came out and called his dog inside. Gracie hung a few moments longer, then dropped gracefully to the ground and sauntered off, satisfied.
A tale of coveting
It was a most subtle kind of covetousness, because it did not have to do with houses or lands or someone’s wife, but, rather with someone’s station in life.  It had to do with the God-given gifts of others; their Jacob have I loved and Esau have I hated.
“But I am Jacob,”  they cried, “I am God’s chosen one. These others who prosper, they are Esau; therefore there must be some sin in their accomplishments, some error of ways. Why would God have given them something and not given it to me? They must have stolen it. Let us ruthlessly analyze their lives and investigate their sin to draw our attention away from our craving of their successes and possessions.” Â
The sin and shortcomings of others they could plainly see. Yet, they did not understand that it was their own reflection. They would never be guilty of coveting possessions of another.
 In the wilderness of this sin they wandered and moaned, “My needs have not been met, I cannot move forward.” The perceived void became such a wound that they took to their beds, unable to care for others; yet ready always to receive the care of others like a dry thirsty sponge; never full enough to be squeezed out to slack the thirst of another.Â
“Ah,” she said, “you are very subtle in your covetousness, for you are an opportunist. Not knowing how to create your own opportunities, you await the downfall of your lords and superiors, thinking their demise to be God’s provision for you.Â
You see their errors, sometimes their out and out deceitfulness, and you watch their downward spiral with sheepish anticipation, knowing the position, title, and yes, money will fall to you. It creates a tension within you, for you are merciful and sensitive. You mourn and agonize over the Achilles heal, the mote in the eye of your fellows, you feel their pain as they fall and you are mortified by the guilty joy that too soon overtakes you as you see what good will come of it for you.”
Life Lessons Learned While Walking
When you start out walking late, a few clouds can be a good thing. There’s a metaphor for life in there somewhere, I think.
Cloudy days held mystery and intrigue when I was young, but it seems the older I get, the more I love sunshine. Nevertheless, in the heat of summer, a few clouds are a good thing. Here’s something else I learned while walking: the most beautiful path is not the easiest. Put differently, just because a path is the most beautiful, and in taking it you have made a right choice, it does not follow that the path will be easy. Indeed, my beautiful path this morning was quite rocky and difficult and even dangerous for the inexperienced or unprepared.
 I had chosen a new location to add variety to my walk. Only one other car was parked at the trailhead and I did not see another human for the next 60 minutes. The solitude was welcome. One thing I have learned about walking is that it is a component of my mental, emotional and spiritual health as well as my physical health. Often, when I walk, I have a specific question or challenge in mind. Today’s question was a choice:Â
Do I want to be a writer strongly enough to be willing to live with my parents until I establish an income; verses; Do I value my independence and solitude deeply enough to warrant seeking a job that steals from my writing time, but insures my independence?
 Straightaway, as I began the ascent of Eagle’s Wing, my thoughts started coalescing, forming sentences and turning phrases that would become chapters in my book, explanations and histories for why my characters are created thus. A couple of short commentaries, essays of human interest fell into place. I could hardly wait to get back to my desk and write while the ideas were fresh. Was this, then, the answer I was seeking?Â
The trail veered ever farther toward the left, then righted, and took me through beautiful desert boulders and vegetation; along a ridge still cooled by sunrise shadows. Soon, I began to wonder if my question was moot. Perhaps it did not matter whether I wrote or lived independently. Perhaps I would never get back. My writing inspiration took a turn toward children of Israel wandering in the wilderness. It turns out Eagle’s Wing is not a loop. Neither is Holy Cross. It might take me an extra 10 miles to get back to my car.
I am usually obedient to the posted signs. Not once did I leave the trail. Nor did I ever lose sense of where my car was located. It’s just that the trail did not go directly to the car. The terrain as the crow flies was much too rugged to traverse.
In order to stay on the trail, one must walk forward, or retrace the steps taken in error. This too, is a metaphor for life. When you mount up on eagle’s wings, do not expect to take a leisurely soar and boomerang to square one. Nor is the way of the cross circular.
Freudian Slip?
If someone had asked why I was walking at 7:30 this morning, my ready answer was, “To seek the will of God; and I don’t care how long it takes me to find it.” To meditate, to pray, to seek the will of a Higher Power is the eleventh of the 12 steps. It is a tenent of Faith; as is asking for the energy to carry through on the guidance received.
What did I mean, exactly, by the phrase, “I don’t care how long it takes me to find it?” Am I really patient enough to plod onward, composed and serene for an undefined period of time? Or was I subconsciously thinking, “Take your time God. I’m in no hurry to know your will. I’m not done mucking about here, not quite ready to focus on moving forward?”
What I intended, was that I was prepared to walk until I got clarity. I was hoping for clarity for a lifetime. What I got was clarity for a day. Perhaps that is enough.
