on the way to the new year..

It's begun. The focus on all things resolute and new year. :) I knew once family left and folks stopped dropping off tempation at my door (in the form of buttery baked goods), that I'd get back on my game. Plus, my sister has me watching "You Are What You Eat" on the BBC. Dr. Gillian is not kind - but full of truth. Eegads.

Training for the half-marathon begins in a few weeks--I'm hitting the treadmill and the road. I definitely feel the past few months of illness, lack of movement and overeating. Ick.

Our family is focused on eating healthier, I believe. Lee's Dad was here for 10 days. He's wrestling with a few maladies - some age-related and a few weight related. He'll be back in a few weeks for some more testing - and we'll see what's what. With diabetes running in my own family, I need to get serious.

Nothing much to report. Except to check out my new show....

http://www.youarewhatyoueat.tv/

:) k

Ginger Souffle...

came to me "free" with the purchase of another item (for someone else's gift). This is one of my new favorite things. It is delicious and wonderful - and calorie-free.

:)

Graham Cracker Cottages Unite!

I'm not sure anyone (except me) will appreciate the irony of the graham cracker cottage. I hosted a cookie party for some girls in Hope's class a few weeks ago. Many a pain-staking hour was spent following directions from Martha Stewart's website - slicing and architecturally dicing the confines of said cottage walls. Many crackers were sacrificed in the making of these 10 homes. It truly was not "easy" or "quickly made" as my Martha had promised.

Tonight, Hope attended a Christmas soiree at my neighbor, Ginger's digs. The girls exchanged gifts and did a little decorating...of graham cracker cottages. As I surveyed the cottage, the simplicity, the lack of architectural dicing and slicing and cracker loss, I wanted to howl out loud. And pop one of those little anxiety pills my Dr. has given me to bring sleep along as I finish out the steroids. I am fighting the urge to write Martha a letter and give her a piece of my mind for leading me astray. I tried to convey my disbelief that these cottages were constructed so simply...and with meringue mix, nonetheless - not my $15 tub of dehydrated eggwhites. Martha, what are you doing to this novice-crafty-wannabe? I blindly assume your advice is grand. And then, I discover, that there is an easier way.

It was actually a funny moment - inside my head, anyhow. BUT, kind of a lesson I'm learning. There's something about shortcuts that I need to learn. And calling my neighbor, Ginger - who knows the tricks and tips of baking, cakes and all things crafts. :) It was a fun party - Hope loved it ... good times.

We saw the National Treasure: Book of Secrets tonight. A little intense for Hope - but very good. I LOVED IT. I loved the first one as well.

My FIL is in town. We did some last-minute shopping - and I had to run to Fred Meyer for a few odds and ends. People are truly insane right now. The spirit of the season is missing for so many. I should be praying for them, I think. What a frenzy. Oye.

The best part of my day (besides seeing National Treasure 2!) - was the frenzy of deliveries we've received - namely from my sister, Karyn. She has been spoiling the living daylights out of our family this year! Sometimes, it's hard to accept the gift of another--and then when another arrives, and another... :) Today, a box of kisses arrived - candy cane, cocoa and one giant big brother kiss. I imbibed - and was just simply SO blessed. And so surprised. Silly, maybe - over "a box of chocolates (to quote Forrest G). I've gushed to her - and thanked Jesus for her and wished I could fly to VA just to give her a squeeze. So fun - and really, such a blessing. (love you, kar!). We texted goofy notes to one another until my movie began. Then the man behind me made me shut my cell phone. Scrooge.

I'm looking forward to some sleep tonight. It escaped me last night. Zzzzzzzzzzz. Or maybe, I'll pop a few more kisses...

Merry Christmas! :)

High School Musical Twins...

the girls on her heeleys...high school musical 2!

are you okay?

I heard that a few times today. I'm training a very delightful young woman to run with producing our web (at work). I think it was halfway between our editorial call, fielding some phone calls from advisory board members and keeping a ear out for web questions, that she asked me "Are you okay? You seem a little anxious today?"

Steroids. Bleh.

I was able to wax poetically about the steroids (that still affect me during the day, even though they're spread out), the cold I've contracted and the pounds of work that seem to be plaguing me. I'm hoping I can stretch 10 hours into 20 tomorrow. If the red sea could part for....me?

I'm happy to report that I have found sleep. In between my stuffy nose and new meds, it's definitely coming in spurts - but it's found me. And life seems a little more manageable.

I ordered some new makeup last week. It arrived yesterday. What is it about new makeup? Bronze cream eyeliner. Some new lipstick. A new woman. Puffy from steroids (um, and copious amounts of baked goods), but new, nonethless.

Hope spent the day with Lee. She has a new pair of Heeleys (the others were def too small). Good ol' GI Joe's and the $35 sale. She promises that she's at the top of her game now. I think there was lunch at some processed joint....a trip to Cold Stone...and some scouting at the park. Lee had two of Hope's friends with him today. He's quite the Dad of the block, I'm told.

For the record - shoes and lunch and cold stone, let alone a trip to the park, don't often happen when I'm home. What the?

It's 8 pm. I need to retire these bones to bed. And get them up at an hour that isn't fit for the birds, let alone this girl.

everything AND the kitchen sink...

I was recounting our appliance drama to a friend at work today (actually, more than one friend. Really, I was working...), and decided that I should probably give a view on the blog. Below is a short shot of the new "stuff" and a glimpse of the new tv-room carpet as well. Everything is nice and clean right now....I guess in the aftermath, it's a good thing (to quote my martha).

I should have gotten a better shot of the sink...it's truly my favorite thing. I'm not certain why. It's granite and just feels like it's in there with me - doin' it's thing, staying strong and holding water like a good sink should. Kidding. Kind of. Actually, I'm not kidding at all. It's the best thing since sliced bread. In a kitchen of stainless steel, something has to remain durable. Besides me! :)

Hasta~!

infamous kitchen

And these...are the new kitchen appliances. To which much angst can be attributed (at least the installation of). But now, I gotta admit, they rock. :)

sleep cometh..

Actually, sleep came. Words can't express. Overjoyed. Elated. Ready to leap over a tall building in a single bound. Holy guacamole. Life looks new this morning.

The one downside is...I have contracted Hope's cold. To quote my husband, "What else can you catch before the year is out?" I don't think we want to know. Rubella? Shingles. There's likely a list out there that would think I'm pretty cool.

I'm on so much "stuff" that I hope this cold will...em, continue to flow (and end quickly). Versus become the infection that is known as my sinuses.

Hope is out of school for two weeks. She was a little sad last night that I wouldn't be with her to commemorate her first day of freedom. One of my most treasured friends' is sending her daughter this way for the day. I hope the day will be a fun switch for Hope... :) She ended the night with Santa touring our development on a fire truck (indeed, we live in the sticks)...and a fun night with her "best friend" from school - Nevada.

I have 10 days of work to squeeze into 3. If you are praying peeps, I would so covet your prayers for focus, productivity and the multiplicity of my hours. My most treasured friend (mentioned above) will be in the office with me tomorrow to organize and structure my files. She could probably use prayers too...because those files are not for the faint of heart. :)

And just a reminder (mostly for me) of the season we are in..."For nothing is impossible with God." Luke 1:37.

Be blessed!

a better day?

This is one of my favorite pictures. Hope, my girl who tends to be sensitive to and fearful of much, hanging out on the roof with her Dad. Like she's not looming over cement two stories' high.

An interesting day. The doctor kept me on the same steroid dose, but spread it out through the day and had me take the last day before 3 pm. He's also prescribed a mild sedative...that I plan on taking promptly at 8 pm and have high hopes for. I only hope it meets my expectations. ;) If I don't sleep tonight (and haven't done harm to myself), they'll reduce the steroid dose.

The interesting thing is....something is actually "shaking loose" (for lack of a better term) - in my nostril region. I can't tell if it's the medicine finally working....or me catching the cold bug that Hope brought home last week.

Updates as I have them. Hoping for sleep....and will really settle for nothing less at this point.

:)

...horrible, no-good, very bad day...

That's a the title of a children's book..."Alexander's horrible, no good, very bad day." I think that's the slug. And it's actually how I'm feeling.

I have literally not slept more than a few hours since starting the roid treatment. The dosage dropped by half yesterday and I thought sleep would be forthcoming. Not so. I had the shakes (and sweats - ick) and was truly hallucinating throughout the night. Hallucinating might be strong. Night terrors? Tripping out? It was awful. And I think I'm done.

I finally got up at 3 am. If I could have lifted the skin from my body as a way to pass the time, I think I may have. I know it's the steroids - but I simply couldn't get a grip. Images of bad Lifetime for Women movies were flashing through my head. "I've seen this before. If I curl up in a ball and rock myself in a corner, will I find some relief?" I was up when Lee left for work. The poor guy wasn't quite sure what to do with me. I really was climbing the walls.

I cleaned out two drawers (somewhere, Lee was saying, "More steroids for Kris, please," - or maybe he's upped my dose?), finished laundry, and baked dozens of cookies (for Hope's school Christmas party this afternoon). Some reprieve came around 6 am....and as 7 am approaches, I'm feeling a little better. Very tired, maybe how The Hulk (remember the big green guy?) must have felt after he'd ripped trees from limb to limb and returned to that mild-mannered fella' he was when not enraged (I don't remember his name, sorry).

I left a message with my doctor. I was on the edge of the ledge when I called, so some men with white coats may be coming to grab me later today. I'm hoping he'll reduce the dosage - and possibly supply me with something so I might sleep. After doing a little bit o' research (what did we do before the internet?)...it seems that high agitation, sleeplessness, sweats and hallucinations are pretty common with steroids. Most of the references were from cancer websites....for anyone who has cancer right now and is taking these little hummers, I will be praying for you in a new way. A necessary evil in pill form?

I'm not taking them again until I hear from the Dr. Which will hopefully be this morning. I'm also a little hesitant not to, b/c I believe they are the only thing keeping me steps away from a sinus infection. Something's gotta give. Lee's Dad is coming in just a few short days....I need my functionality back. Eegads. Thanks for praying as you think of it.

:) k

a million little pieces...

Don't worry. I'm not recounting a partially-fabricated memoir (ie James Frey's moment of fame). Things just feel like they are truly crumbling into a million little pieces. Maybe my steroid-filtered view is affecting things as well. Eh, who am I kidding? The roids are rocking my entire being.

We recently replaced all of our appliances. We've enjoyed a mini-flood in our kitchen when the dishwasher hoses weren't connected "quite right." Can electrocution occur while ironing a shirt in a flooded kitchen? Anyhhow, we found ourselves without water and/or dishwasher in the midst of Hope's cookie party preparation - for dishes or the washing of other important items (um, like my hair).

The transition has been tough - but we've weathered it. And in the scheme of things, we're being blessed by new appliances. How much can I really complain (read on to find out)?

This weekend, we said goodbye to our very sad and well-used white porcelain sink. Dings, dents and scrapes - I'm sure it was ready to be put to rest. But not before leaving its mark - smack on the bottom of our new refrigerator. French-door refrigerator. No one can actually tell how the dinging happened....but since the blame isn't being laid squarely at my feet, I believe my other half knows he played some kind of part in the mess. It was a disappointing moment...and we will likely be replacing the freezer door. ;(

Fast-forward to the new granite sink. Two days later, we have water. And a small, but delicate leak. I'm told it will be fixed. Eh, what's one flooded kitchen week after week?

The grand finale' happened today. I attempted to wash our guest room comforter. In honor of my FIL's arrival this week. I've washed this particular item more than one time in our large-basin washing machine. Somehow, in the fray of kitchen sinks, dings on the new refrigerator and the frustration pervading our wrench-laden digs, the comforter became entangled. And stopped the turning of the drum. Loads of soapy water began to pour forth with abandon...as if it were called to that very moment.

I don't know why, but when Lee beckoned (um, really?) to me, I knew exactly what had gone down. Flooded laundry room. Did I mention the cat box is also kept in the laundry room? Good times, good times indeed.

The very best news is that we have the cleanest floors in all of Buckley. Shiny, clean and debris-free. Ladybug is enjoying her brand-new, lovingly laid cat litter (grrr). And I....hmm. Well, I'm actually so looking forward to being in the office tomorrow.

Speaking of a million little pieces, that's the state of my guest room right now. Better get back to it.

super steroid power

Or is that stupid steroid power? Either way, I'm not a fan. The good news is - the pressure in my sinuses seems to have decreased. The down side is...I'm simply not sleeping. At least, without some help (ie sedative) and not for more than 4 hours in one shot. I'm a lot tired and a great big moody. And my game face seems to be missing. Two more weeks...but hopefully the decreasing quantities will bring a little shuteye back on the scene.

The past week was a blur. Very little sleep, too many meds and Hope coming down with a cold mid-week threw me for a small loop. I was very thankful for the flexibility of my hours, working from home and gettin' things done during some odd hours.

This morning, we went on a mission for the Sheraton. Eight cases of a specific wine was needed for an event. Ten stops and three hours later, we arrived downtown with one cranky kid, a slightly cranky adult female (me) and a husband that was pretty glad to be anywhere but in the car with us. :) Hope and I ventured to the Sheraton lobby while Lee grabbed his crew to unload said delivery. We were able to view the infamous gingerbread houses. They are unbelievably amazing--maybe my favorite batch of all. I wish I had some pics to share. Words can't describe. Everything was so festive and beautiful.

Our day started to brighten up. :)

My sister in law, Karen and her husband came over this evening. We ventured out to one of my favorite shops (The Pinch Plum), ate too much cheese bread (not at said store), watched the boys install our new kitchen sink and played, I mean, lost two rounds of "SORRY!" to reigning champ, Hope. Both games were SOOOOO close. After Hope won the first round by literally 1 jump, she raised her hands over her head and said, "WOOHOO! I won and I didn't even cheat!". Note to self: watch opponent Hope's board moves from this point on. We howled. And proceeded to lose a second game to the shark. Yeesh. :)

I do believe it's time to get my sleepy SORRY winning child off to bed. She's dozing off to Air Bud as I type. And work on our very-late Christmas cards. In the swirl of having guests tonight (which was very nice) - I took my meds too late. Eh, no matter how early or late they enter my system, I seem to be "up" no matter what. Looks like I'll be a friend of Carson Daly (ie the late show) and possible the REAL Housewives of Orange County tonight. Hey, besides infomercials and late night talk, there really isn't much going on in the wee hours of the morning. It's the oddest thing - my body and head are so tired, but my energy level just doesn't stop. Tour de France, anyone?

Steroids have opened a whole new world. Hopefully, they open up my sinuses too.

:)

Holiday Concert - Part 4

Who needs to breathe?

Sickness has overwhelmed my sinuses and eyes for the past few months. It's not been a pretty October, November or December. Pink eye has made it's home in my eyes twice in the past month. Nuts, I say. Nuts!

Went in for a followup today post CT scan (on Friday). Ten years ago, I had sinus surgery on my left sinus. Today, the sinus is showing "no light" at all on the scan. That could mean a few things. I continue to get sick because an infection simply isn't clearing up. OR, I continue to get sick because the polyps have grown back and taken over my sinus cavity.

Bleh.

I have two choices. The first is a 20 day round of steroids - beginning with six pills per day -- descreasing in quantity/strength over the 20 days, coupled with an antibiotic (and diflucan). The second option is to refer over to an ENT surgeon - who will either suggest the same treatment or want to open me up (so to speak).

I took the first option. Twenty days on a steroid isn't going to be a lot of fun. Another CT scan is scheduled for January 31st with a follow up on 1/2 with my Dr. If the density hasn't changed, I'll be referred to the surgeon.

Sinus surgery is no cake walk. Last time I did it, we were without child. Recovery was long. Not sure how that would all work together. Sleeping upright in a recliner and spending the days on pain medicines isn't super-conducive to life with an active eight year old.

So for now, I'm praying for an infection. Not sure I've ever prayed for such a thing. Lord, please bless me with a nasty infection that can only be broken by steroids.

Eegads. :)

My new best friend...

is right here. I wasn't very welcoming of her (yes, she's female) when she first moved in. Today, I'm feeling sad about that. I didn't know the absolute treasure that had fallen into my lap.

I sold my old espresso machine at a garage sale years ago and even to this day, am note an imbiber of lattes. Too much milk for this dairy-sensitive girl. I started drinking drip coffee when Hope was born and have rarely looked back. Sweetened coffee concoctions are not my gig- even of the mocha variety. A nice americano (shots of espresso, a little water and a splash of cream) is my drink of choice. There's simply nothing better.

I am not proud to admit, that I've stood in many a coffee line, internally scoffing at the orders around me. "Iced white chocolate mocha, extra syrup, only one shot." "Carmel white chocolate mocha - a splash of hazelnut, extra whip and sprinkles, please." Dairy Queen is just down the road, folks with a nice moooooo-latte waiting just for you. Quiet snobbery - and over coffee, nonetheless.

Lee gave me lessons on our new machine. He was excited - and anxious for me to be equally excited about this wonder. I was detached - nonchalant, even. And I quickly downplayed his claims that I would LOVE this new addition to our kitchen. "It's too big. And I don't drink lattes." Hmph.

The next morning, Hope, who knows how to use our silver bullet, was begging to make some coffee for me. I finally caved. This baby loads it's own beans, grinds and provides the finished product with the touch of a button. It even cleans up after itself (seriously). Hope made three shots, I added a little water and some cream...and voila, Starbucks was in my home. I am in love - and I've yet to look back.

Sunday. The morning of coffee in my home. I've been fighting what feels like the endless bug and was sleeping in a bit on Sunday. Hope brought a cup of coffee up to me. "Mom, I made your shots, but Dad put in steamed milk. I told him you don't drink steamed milk, but he wouldn't listen." I thanked her, waited until she was down the stairs and took a sip. I recoiled. After adding a few more shots, it was passable. Lee and I embarked on a long discussion of steamed milk vs a splash of cream and what really was the difference? Did I mention my husband drinks non-fat mochas? And an occasional moo-latte. Poor guy. :)

This morning, I felt a little sorry for my percolating pot, sitting on the sidelines. I thought about brewing up some black stuff, just for old times' sake. Grinding the beans and cleaning up the mess just seemed like too much trouble - so I didn't. ;(

There aren't many coffee purists in the world, I've come to find. I have quietly kept my vigil - moving through the bean-laden highways alone. I've weathered visits to my Dad's and pots of folgers and "vanilla cinnamon coffee." I've done pods and Vertallinas in Arizona. I've even gone cold-turkey, simply because there wasn't a decent brew to be found. And now, I'm out of the closet.

:) And waiting for my little one to arise and make my second cup of heaven. Maybe she and I will share the love for strong, well-brewed java one day. I can only hope....

one small update...

This picture makes me smile. Hope is in heaven and believing her prayers for snow were answered. :) They were - it just didn't stick. Lee's in the background...wondering if he'll be shoveling later on.

It's been a few weeks since I updated. Our family has been fighting a variety of "bugs" and I have been in the thick of it. Pink eye twice in one month? Bleh. Double-bleh.

I'm still very excited to be in the season of Advent...the celebration the Hope of the world is just around the corner. Not even sure where I'd be without my Jesus. :)

Received a Christmas card from an old friend today (she's not old, but I've known her a long time). She's considering the Tacoma marathon. Brought a smile to my face.

Heard from another long ago friend via email today - smile #2. God is good.

So that's it. I'm glad I have a few weeks before I have to start training for that crazy half-marathon. My health just hasn't permitted. Lee's Dad is heading our way for Christmas. I halfway wish we were headed his way - for some warm weather and sun.

Be blessed! K

no clever titles...

and nothing hugely clever to say. Just a few ponderings. Ponderances? I'm too lazy to look it up tonight.

What comes out of the heart is TRULY an overflow of the heart. Icky heart = icky words, thoughts and expressions.

I started a little pre-marathon training today. I hit the road before the snow began - and cruised "the hill" in our hood 3 times. I'm feeling it as I type. The best part of the day was rounding the bend of my last neighborhood lap. The snow was beginning to fall and my daughter was standing in the drive - actually, dancing in the driveway - barefoot, in her pajamas - catching snowflakes with her tongue. It was the best moment.

Our "snow watch" was quite something today. Nothing stuck around - but I actually found myself praying for snow. Just so Hope's day would be complete. If you know me a little bit, you probably know I could do without that white stuff. BUT, on a weekend, I welcome it. :)

Enchanted. We went tonight (it's a movie, for those of you without a child under 10. It was cute. A little old for Hope.

Ikea. We went today. I'm convinced that most americans have closets full of gadgets that they never use. Ikea is a key contributor. That's why they sell so many organizational systems. To store the gadgets (that are often unidentifiable) they sell.

Hugh Grant. I do love him. Or his acting. Or the characters he plays. Even as the loathesome cad he plays in Bridget Jones....there's something about him. I'm halfway watching "Two Weeks Notice" right now. I enjoy him in that as well.

Like I said...nothing really to share. If you're training for the Tacoma halfmarathon...the course is "hilly" and the site says to traing for hills. Hence, my three times up and down our hill today.

Time to focus on Hu...my movie. :)

These are a few of my favorite things....

1. Amy Grant's Christmas albums. All of them.

2. Don Moen and Travis Cottrell. Imagine how excited I was to find them singing together (see video below). Who doesn't need to be rescued? And if you don't like the tune, just keep it to yourself. Or talk about it on your own blog. smile.

3. My new silicone baking sheet.

4. Our Christmas-decorated home. Love it.

Nothing says Christmas to me like Amy Grant (okay, and Jesus and his glorious birth). Amy was the first Christian cassette I ever owned....20 years ago. I wasn't a Christian then, but oh, how I enjoyed Amy. Not much has changed. I own many of her "pop" and hymn CDs, but the Christmas season really takes off for me when we begin crooning to her Christmas tunes. Tender Tennessee Christmas. Angels We Have Heard on High. Breath of Heaven. Beautiful.

Don Moen? One of my all-time favorites. He led worship about 10 years ago at World Vision's Day of Prayer...soon after, I traveled to Minnesota on business. On my 2 hour drive to Long Prairie, I was surprised and blessed to be in Don Moen land (he's from Minnesota) and lo and behold - on Don Moen day. His birthday or something. I think 9 out of 10 radio stations in the land of Marge and woodchippers (fargo reference) are Christian. All of them were belting out the Don Moen tunes. I was in heaven. :)

Travis Cottrell. Beth Moore's worship leader - another fave of mine (and yes, I love his big, big grandious tunes). Duet with Don Moen below? God loves me for certain (smile).

Tonight, I whipped up some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (a thank you for my neighbor) on my new silicone baking mat. After two weeks of illness and more than my fill of the cooking channel, I just had to give it a whirl. Almost all the happening chefs use these. Or the happening chefs that I watch, anyhow. Amazing slice of slickness. Worth more than the seven dollars and 99 cents we shelled out. Truly. :)

I'm planning a cookie decorating party for some of hope's friends. Silicone sheets are now part of the master plan. Lee and I are registered for the City of Tacoma half-marathon. I have at least 4of my best and most loved peeps (Connie, Danielle, Shannon and Denise- that's you!) registering to walk as well (lee will jog) -- and fundraising for a cause that tugs at my heart. A little weird to be raising money for an organization other than World Vision...but I believe God is calling our little team to the cause. Stay tuned for more details on that one. Training begins in January...but I'm kicking it into a little pre-training gear now. I'm excited.

Not much else to share. Ephesians 4:29 is my focus of the week. "Let no unwholesome talk come out of your mouth....except that which builds one another up." Huge paraphrase. But you get the drift.

Be blessed beyond measure.

kb

Don Moen and Travis Cottrell - Rescue

the human eye...

...is a terrible thing to waste.

After a week of inexplicable illness, my sinus infection decide to explode through my eye on Saturday morning. Otherwise known as: conjunctivitis. Pink eye. A little bit of hell on earth.

Until yesterday, I had never experienced pink eye. Today, I can say that I hope it never graces my cornea again. It was miserable. Yesterday, I had an uncontrollable ooze that started around 10 am and didn't end. Even while I slept.

This morning, Hope ran in to do an 'eye check." She contracted our "pink friend" while I was in Chicago. I awakened to "Mom, how's your eye?" As I peered out from the covers, it was quickly recognized that only one of my eyes was working. The other, was firmly "glued" shut.

After about 20 minutes of compressing and warm water and truthfully, a small moment of anxiety---I emerged from the bathroom. My husband, a fella of few words said, "Wow. You're wounded." I dodged to the bathroom and in the light of day could see how wounded I really was. The "puffy circles" that grace my face in the morning were there. But the one under my infected eye extended down to my chin. Seriously. I looked like Rocky Balboa's really bad cariciature. Really, really bad. As I emerged from the bathroom, we wondered aloud what I should do. Doctor, again? Was the state of my eye indicating that healing was on the way? Did I really have pink eye - or was my eye just rotting away?

Lee and Hope ventured out for new Christmas lights to leave me pondering and wondering. Interestingly enough, a few more hours of resting my eyes and the outpouring of eye liquid seemed to cease. By noon, my balboa-esque likeness has faded. I actually ventured out to Target toward early evening - amazed at and expounding on the wonders of modern medicine.

What a week. Through it all, I've ended with a few fun tips to share:

1. If you contract conjunctivitis (ie pink eye) you will not be able to catch up on that reading you've been longing for or the cross stitch you've been hoping to nestle down with. End of story.

2. Lifetime TV. I know why the network is called "Lifetime." The shows you watch on this station will stay with you about that long. Somebody is being stalked, being raped or being beaten. Or dying from cancer or cheating on their spouse. More than one hour of viewing will lower your IQ. Guaranteed.

3. The Food Network. Always worth watching. There's something for everyone. I was inspired by the Thanksgiving specials. I indulged in a few episodes of "Ace of Cakes." I also decided I liked Rachel Ray even less than I did prior to my illness. Bleh. Like fingernails on chalkboard. But I do enjoy her recipes. Minus her commentary. Paula Dean = not my favorite. Her grammar distracts me ('my family can't hardly wait for me to lay this on the table"). Sorry, Paula. But I did make note of her stuffing recipe. I've discovered two more cooking faves that I think I'll have to add to the tivo lineup. I don't know their names yet--but one made a tasty apple tart and the other a lovely green bean dish. Emeril will never be a show I can watch (I rank him with ol' Rachel R.). Bobby Flay and my Barefoot Contessa = always full of promise.

4. Martha Stewart. Her blog inspires. And her mama just died. ;( Sad day but neat legacy (minus the trading infraction and jail time).

5. Spanglish. I started to watch this movie - then fell asleep. Must every movie have an adulterous affair to succeed?

6. Finally, with the multitudes of entertainment shows, why doesn't the New York Times have a 30 minute spot? I know, I know - great minds don't watch tv. Pink eye knows no bounds. Intelligent television. For all you PBS-ers, Great Chefs was on all weekend.

Okay, so maybe not great advice. I don't normally view so much television. But there wasn't much else to do. I was very sick. My eye was balboa-ized. And I couldn't keep my peepers perched on a book for long. Tonight, I will be focusing my newly healed eyes on some words on paper and turning of the big color box in our living room. And continue my quest for total disinfection.

I can't wait for thanksgiving. We're going to my sister in law's for the fabulous day. Lee, Hope and I head out on "black Friday" at 4:30 am to hit some of the very best deals. Our tree will go up and Christmas will explode into our home. :) Lee is halfway through with operation outside light installation.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. And I, for one, am so glad to have both eyes firmly planted on the prize.

kb

ps: that's "b" for my last name. NOT balboa.

marathon on the brain

I'm still praying about what I'm about to type. But I believe I am going to register for the Tacoma City half-marathon on May 10, 2008. I guess the Chicago Marathon was a little like child birth. The pain is easily forgotten. Like I said, I'm still praying about it. But I'm feeling "the itch" and a half-marathon seems like a more reasonable (and do-able) goal than a full marathon right now. The minimum minute-mark per mile is something like 20.36 (I think). I was able to range between 15 and 17 minutes per mile pre-Chicago. This adventure will be walking only. I think.

I'm chuckling over that fact that I'm considering a walk through the streets of tacoma. As my Daddy used to say, "Kid, it's the armpit of Washington. And I don't want you hanging out there. It's not safe." I know anyone who has grown up around these parts will agree with my Papa. If I register and "do this thing" maybe I'll become the biggest advocate yet for the streets of Tacoma and all the bounty I hear it offers. I'll become a member of the Tacoma Art Museum, discuss all things inner city and eat my lunch at the foot of Ruston Way. (um, no promises there).

Truth be known, I'm also considering the Chicago Marathon next year. I don't know what's come over me. We'll see about that one. I would definitely want Lee and Hope to be there with me. I don't know that I'd do it again without the two of them. And I don't know that we could swing 3 tickets to Chicago. I did enjoy that city. :)

I'll be asking Santa for a new pair of training shoes. And some winter training duds, I believe. I have a month before I have to register....I'll see how things feel as I swing into a little pre-training.

Now, if I could only kick this very nasty bug that has landed in the depths of my lungs. Hope's too. It's awful. After a night of little sleep and lots of coughing, I'm hoping to do more of one and less of the other tonight. Hope's wrestling with it as well...I'm blogging and breaking for interval bed propping and head adjusting as she coughs her way into slumberland. Poor girl. Seems her lung issues stem a little from moi. ;(

As much as I hate to admit it (ie agree with my husband), Hope and I almost always return from visiting my parents with nasty colds and coughs. Don't know if it's just "this time of year" or what the deal is. But he's right. Maybe we're allergic to eastern Oregon. That would make me very sad. I love that place.

Here's a shot of Hope and I. Is this Canyon City? I can never remember. It was a fun day - although I was fighting the bugt even then. Photograph: courtesy of Katie.

Kleenex, coughing and germs...

Oh my! ;( Indeed, our week has been filled with hot tea, chicken soup and lots of kleenes.

Hope and I returned home from a visit to my parents' house with colds extraordinaire. We were just sick less than a month ago....bleh. After a follow-up to Hope's asthma doctor last night, we both left with new inhalers and the faint echo of Dr. Andrade's laughter. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it Kris?" Yeah, yeah, yeah. So what if my colds always land in my chest two days after they arrive? He heard some wheezing in my lungs. So? :) Okay, I give. Hope probably inherited her asthma courtesy of her mama. Eeegads.

I also "get" that my inability to stay away from sugar affects my immune system greatly. That white stuff is my nemesis...I'm determined to overcome the habit. If you see me jonesin' somewhere in the path of life, no matter how hard I beg, do NOT feed me toblerone. It does NOT cure all that ails me. ;)

sisters are forever...

sisters are lovers of laughter. they stay up until 1 am talking about nothing. and everything. they share wounds. and accomplishments. and secrets. they understand things that no one else ever will. sisters believe the best and handle the worst. sisters grab the other's back. and remember their food allergies. even when no one else does.

sisters will always lend hair product, perfume ... or other more unmentionable items for the sake of comfort. the best sister will fold up like a taco in the worst foldout bed, just so the other, more neurotic sister can sleep. best of all, sisters are forever. and then some.

the only thing about sisters is that we are really three. but this weekend, there was only two. we miss other part. the laughter is always louder and slightly more ridiculous with three. but in a pinch, two will always do.

marrying the visible and the invisible...

I'm walking through a bit of a valley right now. More of an emotional valley, I'd say. God is seeking to bring something new from something old. Freeing me from some chains and survival mechanisms that simply don't belong any longer. I'm here to tell you that it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. But, I'm going to worship God anyhow.

Feeling a bit undone this morning, I was so grateful for my people. My Christian workplace and our morning devotion -- and specfically, my co-worker and sister in Christ who shared a reading this morning that was so "spot-on" for what I'm wading through. I found it online and am sharing the excerpt she read this morning. In the state I was in, it made me weep. Not sure it will be that profound for everyone. From the writings of Eugene Peterson in a book entitled "The Jesus Way." Here's to marrying the visible and the invisible....and celebrating the gifts we've been given in this life. Just the way they are.

"Faith has to do with marrying the visible and the invisible. When we engage in an act of faith, we give up control, we give up sensory (sight, hearing, etc) confirmation of reality; we give up on insisting on head-knowledge as our primary means of orientation in life. The positive way to say this is that when we engage in an act of faith we choose to deal with a living God whom we trust to know what He is doing, we choose a way of life in which bodily senses and physical matter are understood as inseperable and organic to vast interiorities (soul) and immense beyonds (heaven), and we choose to no longer operate strictly on the basis of hard-earned knowledge, glorious as it is, but over a lifetime to embrace the mystery that "must dazzle/Or every man go blind."

It is most certainly not disposition, an "inner life." It is an obedient life, a deliberate engagement of the will, a fusion of body and spirit, visible and invisible fused, taking us somewhere.

This involves considerable risk. The supposed security of objective certainty recoils from such risk. But for those who take it, it also results in inhabiting a vast, previously unperceived, reality. It also involves considerable retraining in virtually everything involved in being a man, a woman. The introduction of the word "faith" into our language produces a radical and total re-orientation from a flat-earth existence, plotted along the monotonous lines of suburban subdivision, to a multi-dimensioned "on earth as it is in heaven" in which God's presence is the dominant and defining reality with whom we have to do.

The way of Abraham continues today along these same lines. Somewhere along the lines, we realize that we are not in charge of our own lives. The life of faith does not exist in imposing our will (or God's will!) either on other persons or on the material world around us. We embrace what is given us - people, spouse, children, forests, weather, city - just as they are given to us and sit and stare, look and listen, until we begin to see the God-dimensions in each gift, and engage with what God has given, with what He is doing.

Everytime we set out, leaving our self-defined or culture-defined state, leaving behind our partial and immature projects, a wider vista opens up before us, a landscape larger with promise.

An excerpt from Eugene Peterson's "The Jesus Way: A Conversation on the Ways that Jesus is the Way"

Few things in life match the thrill of running a marathon...

Did you track the ING New York City Marathon? I did. Paula Radcliffe won the women's elite with a time of 2:23:09. It's not even her fastest time. The amazing thing is she trained through her pregnancy earlier this year and has been off the marathon trail for 2 years.

Lance Armstrong ran as well. I watched a runumentary (smile) on his journey on the NYC marathon last year. That is one fit guy.

If you're interested in the results or news..

http://www.ingnycmarathon.org/home/index.php

http://www.nytimes.com/ has some great coverage as well.

:) k

Hurting People, Hurt People.

Like bombs dropping out of the sky. If one is hurt at the deepest level, they will hurt everyone around them. Word for the day.

If you're not growing, you're dying

Feeling a little reflective tonight. About a month has passed since the marathon. Hope has been sick. I followed suit. Work has been wild. I'm just coming up for a breath, I think.


I'm also flipping through a little book I purchased in Chicago. Actually, Shelly brought it to a meeting one day in October. It intrigued me so much that I bought one myself. It's called "This I Believe" - based on the NPR series of the same name.

The book contains the musings and thoughts of some "remarkable men and women" (to coin a phrase from the cover). I like the following statement by Brian Grazer, movie and television producer.

"Disrupting my comfort zone, bombarding myself with challenging people and situations, this is the best way I know to keep growing. And to paraphrase a biologist I once met, if you're not growing, you're dying."

So...are you growing? Or dying? God continues to dip me into the vat of challenging people and situations in very practical and clever ways. He's stretching and pulling me out of comfort zone after comfort zone. We are multi-faceted, multi-dimensional people. Comfort zones are layered creatures...conquer one, and there's another. And another.

A ton of energy and time...and sometimes alotta money is spent trying to avoid discomfort. To preserve the inner sanctum. Self-made security. I don't know what that looks like for you. What I've seen over the past few weeks is a lot of defensive play. The inability or downright refusal to touch another's life when it requires something out of the norm. Bleh.


I'm speaking in circles, and I know this. I said it at the start of my ramblings...close to a month on the other side of the marathon, God is definitely continuing the journey. Forcing me to stretch beyond what's comfortable for me. Facing past demons that have haunted and defined me. Saying "no more" to destructive habits and thoughts. Doing things I thought I couldn't. Engaging with people I said I wouldn't. Thinking about someone other than myself. Living in a place bigger than my comfort zones.


And finally, I shared an article about sisterhood a few weeks ago. I won't call out names, but someone very near and dear and precious to me sent my daughter the most fabulous gift today. Three halloween boxes filled to the brim with candy, kisses and one GIANT kiss. Hope was thrilled...and I was blessed. It's not about the gift...it's just so beautiful to be thought of. And I need to do a better job of that myself.


Hope your post-halloween Thursday was a good one. I imbibed in too much sugar as I handed out wrapped goods to the decorated masses. So today was an adventure in eating. But tomorrow...will not be. Oh! Hope's principal called me yesterday (or the day before). That buddhist play I blogged about earlier? They removed the worship scene after she reserached if further. Very cool.


Be blessed!!!

kb

roots and wings...

No tree becomes rooted and sturdy unless many a wind assails it. For by its very tossing it tightens its grip and plants its roots more securely; the fragile trees are those that have grown in a sunny valley.” - Seneca the Younger (5 B.C.-A.D. 65)

Some thoughts from here..

It's been a very long week. Saturday's dawn was a most welcome sight.

Work was busier than ever. Not the usual, so not a huge deal. I worked over the weekend and launched into some longer hours on the weekdays.

A viral friend decided to bust its way through my airborne and echinacea fences sometime Sunday. Wednesday morning brought a fog of aches and stuffies. Hope made her own breakfast and bought lunch. I'm still not sure how I made it the 30 miles to the office without offing another driver in my stuffy fog. The headlines would have read, "Woman runs cars off the road. Found moments later with kleenex stuffed up her nose and the faint smell of Vicks...asking for a hot cup of tea." Nice. At one point during the day, Shelly very delicately called over the cube, "Don't be afraid to use your sick leave. You don't sound good....and I don't want your germs." I caved and stayed home on Thursday.

Thursday brought the most interesting...albeit slightly eye-opening moment at Hope's new public school. Long story short, her class is learning about India - which is lovely. They are acting out a "fairytale" from India. I'm okay with that. Each class is acting out a different part of the tale. Hope's class has been selcted to portray the temple worship scene - as the group seeks direction from a buddhist god. Ugh. We used to go to church with one of the little boys in the class -- his Mom caught me on my "sickday" Thursday. At my stuffy, makeupless worst, I ended up in joining her in the principal's office to find out a little more about this tale.

After reading the script, the tale wasn't the big deal. I could have flown with that. It was the temple worship and meaning of the song the kids were singing. They were worshiping a buddhist god and I wasn't okay with that. So Hope and her friend are doing an alternative activity for the next week during that segment of the day.

Crazy, eh? I knew when we launched Hope into public school, we'd have some things to face. Just didn't think it would be too soon. The principal was very nice-- both during the meeting and around the halls of the school afterward. It was all very friendly and I hope the "respect" they are seeking to give "all religions" in the school is extended to us as we choose to protect our beliefs a bit. And it brings me to a place with Hope--of helping her understand that not only do some folks not believe in God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit--they actually believe in something very contrary to that. We haven't come up against that until now.

As a result, we're starting a Moms in Touch group...just the two of us for now. It's an organization of moms gathering to pray for their kids in public schools...and the school as well.

Hope has been sick for a few weeks. Thursday also brought a visit to her asthma doctor, an antibiotic and a two-week inhaler. She hasn't been sick or had an asthma attack since June...so we'll take it.

Hope and I are taking a small trip to eastern Oregon in a few weeks to visit my Dad/step-Mom (and my sister!). New tires for the buggy arrived today. Lee ordered a "heavenly bed" through the Sheraton for our guest room ... .should be here today. My fatherinlaw is coming for two weeks at Christmas and will be spared the torture chamber of years' past. And finally...we have some pumpkins to carve..in anticipation of the trickortreaters comin' our way.

And Monday is...the hannah montana concert! Lee and I are taking Hope and BFF Lyssie. You get the best of both worlds..... :) ( reference lost on anyone without a HM fan in the house!).

Be blessed!

I love this....

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Aunts

Written by Jessica Treadway who is also the author of the story collection "Absent Without Leave" and the novel "And Give You Peace."

The women in my family are on a mission. Again.

There is a certain brand of stuffed toy animal whose popularity is sweeping the nation, and my niece Katie, who is about to turn 9, wants to give them as favors at her birthday party. The only trouble is that they're mostly sold out where she lives in Pennsylvania. So my sister Laura, Katie's mother, enlisted the help of our other sister, my mother and me, because we live in different states.

My mother tried, but had no luck. My sister Molly was excused because she lives in a small town far away from retail. But this morning I went to the gift shop near my house, as soon as it opened, and within three minutes I had an armload of animals, trying to avoid imagining what I looked like, a 45-year-old woman with a lunatic expression in her eyes, searching desperately for a stuffed platypus. I brought them up to the counter, hoping that the "one per customer per day" quota wouldn't apply to any of the species on my niece's list. Score! I couldn't wait to get home and call up Katie, who was ecstatic when she heard.

Each of my sisters has a son and a daughter. I have no children of my own, and these nieces and nephews are, as they say in the South, my heart. I don't love the girls--Katie and her cousin Sadie--any more than I do their brothers, but I think I love them differently, with an awareness of their roles as inheritors of a tradition of female strength that has defined and sustained me all my life.

Every morning, my mother, my sisters and I check in by e-mail. We joke that it is because our mother lives alone and we want to make sure she hasn't fallen down the stairs but, really, we all need it. We give agendas for the day, weather reports, encouragement and (when solicited) advice about challenges any of us might be facing. A lot of times, we vent --about work and long waiting lines, idiots on car phones, and kitchen smoke alarms that go off for no reason. (Never about the men in our lives. For some reason, our loyalty to them either trumps or flies under the radar of the one among women.)

When Laura's son Jack--our first grandchild and nephew--was born in January 1996, a snowstorm socked the Northeast. Hearing that Laura was in labor, I set off from Boston by Amtrak because the airport was closed, and Molly boarded a train from Washington, D.C. She made it to the hospital in time to be with Laura for the birth (Laura's husband was there, but queasiness kept him out of the delivery room)--to witness Jack's emergence, and to inform Laura that she had a son.

Perhaps the most dramatic manifestation of our family's female bond is the day my grandfather died in 1993. He'd been sick and in the hospital, and during his illness and that of my grandmother, who died a year before, it was my mother and her sister who took care of their parents. They had two brothers who lived not all that far away, but, as one of them said in a phone call to my mother, "It's just so hard."

The day my grandfather died, my mother, my aunt, my sisters and I gathered in his ICU room at the hospital. Molly was the last to arrive at 5 p.m., having driven the eight hours from Baltimore. When she finally made it, my mother went over to my grandfather, who was on a ventilator and hadn't spoken for days, patted his hand and told him, "I have all my girls here with me now." It was her signal that he could go.

Forty-five minutes later, he started to fail. We could tell, and the nurse confirmed it. All five of us put our hands on top of his, and talked to him. Laura had to leave the room for a minute, but the nurse put her hand on Laura's shoulder, until my sister could come back in. It may seem perverse, but I have never felt so alive as in those minutes my female relatives and I helped usher my grandfather from this world. It is an experience of having done something important and tribal, something great. And we did it together.

Last year, Molly and her family spent a semester in New South Wales. My mother and I went to visit them, and they took us to the Blue Mountains, where there is a rock formation called The Three Sisters, named for figures in an aboriginal legend. For Christmas, Molly enlarged and framed a color photograph of The Three Sisters for Laura, my mother and me. I keep mine on a wall of my home office, where I look at it often--especially (and probably not by accident) when I am lifting weights.

The men and boys in my family have their own form of kinship. It seems to have a lot to do with sports, vehicles and building things in the woods. I can't make my nephews any promises about what's in store for them, from my own experience; I leave that to other guardians.

As for my nieces, I'm sorry for them that neither of them has a sister. But I want them to know how powerful a sisterhood they were born into. And this: that if Katie or Sadie ever needs any or all of us to hold her hand in the hospital, find her a stuffed platypus, or meet her at the top of a mountain in Australia--we'll be there.

Evan Almighty...

that's right. we watched it. more than once this weekend. i loved it. everybody dance now....see video below. :)

Everybody Dance Now - Evan Almighty

Bye-bye toxic waste...

A very interesting week has just gone by. One filled with too much, frankly. The windstorm and power outage on Thursday and Friday wasn't really the neat and tidy bow I'd been hoping to end my week with.

I've pegged this week ahead of me as my launch back into the world of watching what goes in my mouth. No white flour, white sugar...all of the stuff I know works, but just haven't been able to stick to. I stopped by the trusty health food/vitamin store for my cleansing packs...and tomorrow, I'll be on my way.

I've done a cleanse or two (or three) before--and usually, there's a lot of spiritual cleansing that happens as well. So, I say "bring it." A little body detox. A little mental detox - and maybe a little lifelong detox as well. :)

"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;

You discern my going out and my lying down;

you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue

you know it completely, O Lord." Ps. 139:1-4

Be blessed. I'll report back soon. Hopefully a little "cleaner" - inside and out! :)

k

I really was at the Chicago Marathon...

If you read my post-marathon blog, you might remember the night I read the rules that deemed cameras, cell phones and Ipods as forbidden. It may not surprise you to know that everyone had cameras. Everyone had their phones. And many had Ipods. Except me. So...thanks to Renee McGuire, I have a few marathon photos to share.

This is Charity Village. At 6:30 am on the morning of the marathon. The sun had just come up and folks were begin to dribble in.
Here's a mighty sea of orange. Part of "Team World Vision" after our rally speech - and preparing for a group photo. Here's a fine photo of Shelly and I. As you can see, I did not don my WV shirt. The material bugged me and it wasn't as loose as I like my shirts to fit. So I opted for this light blue number that wicked and fit me well. On the day of the race, I was wishing I'd brought my shirt.
Here are my walking partners - April and Renee. Renee was the owner of the most amazing tracking and GPS system I've ever seen--and kept us moving on target. At least for the first few hours...Here's the "start line." It took us 22 minutes to move from our position to the start line. More bodies than I've seen in one place. Ever.This is a few moments after passing the starting line. Through this tunnel that was SO big. It was wild to be jogging/walking where cars normally reside.
Things begin to loosen up a bit. A shot of downtown Chicago.

It really was SO cool to be in the midst of Chicago. I'm not a huge city girl--but I really loved Chicago. Amazing buildings.

There were bands and music throughout the course. Here's just one of them. The music/performers really lightened things up. And that's my back on the left. :)

There are a few more pics to post...but something is going on with this crazy blog system. More tomorrow!

Peace - k

People is crazeee...

seriously. they just are.

please stop screaming...

Extreme Home Maker is one of our favorites. Or one of Hope's favorite shows, anyhow. Tomorrow is a late start morning - and so she's up late watching and feeling badly for the harrowing tale. I have to say, as I've caught some of it out of the corner of my eye - this is the screaming-est, most falling-down family I have yet to see. They're actually driving me a little nutty. Connie, did you watch it? Are you with me?

Nice house. Sad story. Glad they were helped. By mylanta, the screamin' and fainting has got to end. Or tone down. Or I need to start doing both more often.

Nothing to do with anything. Just my thoughts for the night.

2007 Chicago Marathon

My Mount Rushmore

It's a new day. A new blog. And a new view, this side of the Chicago Marathon. I may not have finished in an anticipated way, but I've gained some perspective, I pushed my body through some pretty unbelievable circumstances and I stuck with it. I'm researching some local half-marathons coming around in the spring that I hope to either walk...or run. I'm also toying with the Chicago Marathon next year. But we'll attack that one later in the season.

On my the flights to and from Chicago, I listened intently to a series by Pastor Chip Ingram called "From Good to Great." The topics are all over the map - dealing with thought life, heart, head, friends, etc. He challenged the listener (me) to look in the rear view mirror of my life and determine who has been the "Mt. Rushmore" of people who have invested/changed our lives. These people aren't necessarily spiritual mentors - but instead, folks who met me at a crossroad and changed the course of my life. So to speak. I've been wanting to jot this down since I deplaned on Wednesday...and now, here it is. Kris Baldyga's "Mt. Rushmore."

Pam Wilson. My Step-Mom. She was the first person who hopped to my mind. I can't imagine that this kind-hearted woman could have know she was inheriting upon marrying my Dad. If she had, I venture to guess she would have run. She was deposited into my life during some pretty raw years. She was the perfect blend of what I needed - and I know what I gave in return, wasn't always great. She was kind to me when I wasn't. She covered for me when I needed it. And she trusted me when I didn't deserve it. She passed along her addiction to soap operas (that I've since kicked!), a love for the era of late night mini-series (can anyone say "Thorn Birds?) and a longing for roast a mashed potatoes every time I return home. More than anything, she was just there. She loved me and was my friend - during a time when I didn't always know how to return the favor.

Loretta Rann. My lovely Loretta. She's known me for, um, 22 years. Unbelievable. She was the receptionist/executive mother of all things office at my first "real job" - Wilsey and Ham (that became W&H Pacific). An engineering firm on the eastside. I tend to make any older woman in my life my immediate mother, if they'll let me. It's a crazy trend that I've tried hard to break. Loretta was no exception. She took me under her wing. Worried about my sleep. My studies (I was in college). Did I have enough gas? Did I bring lunch? Had I seen a doctor lately? She fed me. Worried about me. Reminded me. And worked hard to set me up with the young engineers in the joint. I think she was more disappointed than I was that no budding romances took root. :) Loretta and I still keep in touch - although it's been years since we've seen one another. She is "good people" and invested herself into a much younger (and selfish) version of me. I'm not sure I would have made it through some of those younger years had it not been for my Loretta.

Janice Beck. Another office friend. She met me not long after some very rocky years in my young life. She was the first person to share the Lord with me. I wasn't hugely receptive - my catholic upbringing gave me some knowledge of who God was - but I had no application whatsoever. She was another lunch-bringing, love-giving, worrying-about-you presence in my life (do you see the pattern here?). Her family embraced me and I so needed the arms around me as I faced the world in a new and "very alone" time. We still "keep in touch" - me being the worse "keeper in toucher" of the two. She was Jesus to me before I knew what that meant.

Dottie. My mother-in-law. She loved me with abandon. And I couldn't often receive it - or didn't know how. My mother-in-law was a very simple woman with a simple faith that was contagious. She was infectious in the best possible way. In the early years, I longed to be with her, but didn't know how to love very healthily. She led me to the Lord. Bought me my first bible. Loved me when I was anything but loveable. In her last years, as she fought her second round of cancer, God did something very precious and amazing for the two of us. We became friends. And prayer-partners. She began staying weekends at our home. She and I became very close. We stayed up into the wee hours, pouring over the bible, sharing deep truths and holding our own prayer revivals in our little living room on Sergeant Street. She poured things into me that I still hold onto. And am praying like mad that they will come alive and come alive through the life of my little one. Thankfully, Lee is an awful lot like his Mom...so Hope has a chance! :) Dottie was my best friend. She's been gone 9-1/2 years and it still feels like yesterday. I miss her so severely. And she wasn't even my mom!

My husband. I simply have to include him. In so many ways, Lee raised me. Taught me how to survive. And at times, function. I entered his life a very insecure, uncertain girl who had a bucket of demons on her tail. I found a life with this man. We were not altogether stable on our own - but Lee was moreso than I was back then. He loved me. And worked through some crazy things with me. And gave me the gift of himself and his family. I just saw something written by Brian Andreas that reminds me of my man. "Tied together by stuff too difficult to explain to someone new." That is us. But I love my guy. I do, I do.

John Kinsella. My manager at SCS Engineers. Not a Christian, but a lovely man. For whatever reason, he believed in me. And helped unearth things in me that I didn't know existed. The ability to write. Market. Step outside of my comfort zone to sell and market. Learn how to read people. He came alongside me in a way that was so natural - and helped me excel in a job that began very small - but ended very big. He placed no boundaries on what was possible and would often say, "you're thinking small. expand." It was very hard to do, at first. But he a great manager- and invested himself in a way that still lives on. If Loretta is reading this, she'll chuckle at my mention of John. Loretta came to work at SCS a year or so after I did. What I call his "big thinking" could often be felt as random and lack of communication. And it was. But he was brilliant. And always sought the impossible. And did his best to invest some of that in me.

Shelly. My manager 10 years ago. And my manager again today. Our relationship ever evolves and she's become one of my dearest friends. We've both grown and changed. She continues to open new worlds for me. The world of print. Other ways of thinking. A pension for soft rock, oldies and Yo-Yo Ma. We forged many roads together - some professional, some personal, and some devastating. Most recently, we shared the experience of the marathon together - and I think, we'll do another again. Whether she knows it or not, she's been a mentor to me on the professional path...and someone who has continually taken the time to invest herself in me. My life would be much different had it not been for her.

Vicky Knapp. Wife of Pastor Don. Answering the cries of a very lost wife, mother and friend. She brought the Word of God to life for me. She helped me learn how to persevere - and not give up. She focused my view on others instead of the somewhat narcissitic way I was looking at my life. She gave me the tools to walk with Christ and let suffering mature me and help me grow instead of send me spiraling into a pit of despair. I love this woman desperately. She has been the most precious gift.

Employment at Calvary. I don't think I can put a face on this one. But I do have to include this time frame in my Mt. Rushmore. I don't attend this church anylonger - and my time as an employee there was likely the single-most difficult period of my life. But almost two-years later, I know God did much in me. Things I'm not certain He could have accomplished anywhere else. I still bear some scars from my time there--and I fear that I may have left some scars behind within the confines of that office. What I did emerge with is a new outlook. Properly placed expectations. And the new ability to lay boundaries both emotionally and professionally that evaded me previously. I continue to work on that one. It's just part of my journey.

If you don't see your name here...please don't take it personally. I tried to look back at pivotal junctures and what things formed me. Who was part of the molding and chipping away in my Mt. Rushmore.

What does your Mt. Rushmore look like? Doesn't have to be limited to the four figure heads you see above. It can be any number. And it may not even be a person. Think about it. Sometimes a look back is very healthy. And a great reminder from whence we have come.

Stay tuned....my treadmill time brought Part II of Chip's message--a look forward through the windshield.

Be well. Be blessed! Above all, be thankful. :)

k

The illusion of control...