Text Message

I have reluctantly joined the text messaging generation. I still think that if you need to say something to another person, it is best to dial the phone and speak to them; but, over the past year or so, I have had to admit that there are times when a text message is the best means of communication. Personally, I have about a one message limit. It takes me forever to type a message and that is with no punctuation whatsoever. I know that all of those little dots and squiggles are somewhere on the "1" key, but I don't have the patience to scroll through all of the possibilities just to find a question mark.

My children, on the other hand, can condense what would be a 30 minute conversation into about 4 1/2 minutes by texting. Granted, the topics of conversation most often are not anything with much depth. Messages are usually 'What are you doing?", "What is our homework?", "What time will you be at school?", "I'm mad at so and so." All of this is fairly innocuous communication.

Yesterday on the way home from church, Erin (15) got a text message from a friend that she went to school with in middle school. They have both now gone their separate ways in high school, but occasionally do still send each other a "How ya doing?' message. Yesterday's text was a little different/ It read, "Do you want to see a picture of my baby?" At our house, all of the four legged members of the family are referred to as our babies so Erin assumed a picture of a puppy or a kitten or maybe a horse or a rabbit. After replying "Sure." to her friend's question, Erin's phone beeped almost immediately with a return message. A picture . . .of a newborn baby, a real 10 fingered, 10 toed baby boy. Erin had no idea how to respond . . .Congratulations? . . . Wow! . . .He's yours? . . .How did that happen? (Wait. Never mind.) . . .What the hell were you thinking?

She asked me what she was supposed to say.. Hmmm. I think I jumped right with "bad plan".

In all seriousness, what do you tell a teen aged girl about how she should respond to a seventeen year old friend who has just given birth? For the most part, the girl is a good kid. Though she should only be a high school junior this year, somehow she managed to graduate early. The father of the baby, a senior, is in school and looking for a job. The two seem to still be together. The mother has some long term goals that do involve going to college in the fall. At least on the surface, it appears that Erin's friend is now trying to make the best decisions she can from the difficult place that she now finds herself. All of that said, I still found myself at a loss as to how I should advise Erin. Fortunately, they were communicating via text messaging so tone of voice and awkward silences were not an issue. Thank goodness for texting!

An Automatic World

There is no question that we live in an automatic, electronic, remote controlled world. We have lights that turn on when you clap (or the dog barks, or the cat knocks something off the kitchen counter, or it thunders and the power has not yet gone off), electric toothbrushes because we wouldn't want to burn an extra calories by actually having to move our arms back and worth, and then there is the sacred remote control. At my house a malfunctioning or, worse yet, lost remote control is cause to call the police, or the FBI, and possibly FEMA. Well,, maybe not FEMA; I'm not sure they are capable of much help. Seriously, a lost wallet, or Ipod, or even a diamond ring would garnish less attention. We have become overly dependent on these battery operated hunks of plastic with buttons that control our entire lives. (Dead batteries are also capable of causing intense levels of distress.)

Recently, during one of our terrible spring thunderstorms that knocked out power to thousands of people for nearly 24 hours, a friend was talking about the fact that she almost could not get to work because of the power outage. This inability had nothing to do with not being able to shower, or see to get dressed, or fix a cup of coffee. It was due to the fact that she could not open her garage door because it had an electric opener. Yes, all such garage doors have a release which allows you to open them manually, but she had a small problem. She has not been living at her current address very long. She did find the release, but when she went to manually open the door, she realized that it had no handle - there was nothing to grab on to so that she could indeed open it the good old fashioned way. She later discovered that the lack of a handle was a builder oversight and not a statement about the lack of necessity of a handle.

And we all know someone who has stood in a parking lot either panicked or pissed off because the battery in the key fob that unlocks their car door has died. Because we are so accustomed to our electronic world, they overlook the fact that they are holding in their hand the key that can be inserted in the door lock to open the door. We have gotten ourselves to a rather sad place.

Don't get me wrong. I am a big fan of some these gadgets. I like ATM machines for when I have no cash and feel guilty about charging three dollars for a cup of coffee. (I already feel guilty about paying three dollars; I don't need the added guilt of charging it!) I will also admit to liking the TV remote control on those cold winter nights when I can use it to turn of the TV after watching back to back episodes of House Hunters in bed. I hate to get cold just to turn off the TV and I hate even more to disturb the dogs once they are finally asleep. The control that my dogs have over my life is another sad state that is cause for alarm.

There is one automated device that I will never understand - the automatic paper towel dispensers in public restrooms. These things are crazy making.

Several years ago our priest at church encountered these contraptions in an airport. He was so impressed by them that they became a central theme in a Sunday sermon. To this day, I have no idea what the sermon was really about. I can't think of any Scripture reference that comes close to advocating automatic paper towel dispensers. for the masses Because of his enthusiasm for them, automatic towel dispensers were immediately installed in every restroom on our church campus. They are supposed to release paper towels when you wave your hand in front of a certain spot on the dispenser itself. The problem is that the paper towels come rolling out every time someone walks by these things. We even have them in the toddler classrooms, where they are much closer to the ground. In fact, they are about knee high for an average adult. Needless to say, many more towels than are actually needed are spit from the machine because it is triggered every time someone walks by. Not only is this annoying, but it is wasteful. Why can't we just turn the little crank and unwind paper towels in the amount we need when we need them? It seems so simple.

The theory is that these automatic paper towel machines are more sanitary. Nobody has to put their dirty little paws on the machine itself. Cooties will not be spread. How ridiculous is this? Haven't we all just washed our hands? With antibacterial soap? (Those of you who don't wash your hands are responsible for these purging paper towel holders all over the world!) My point is that by the time we reach for a towel to dry our hands they should have been washed, presumably with soap, thus rendering them clean.

If we really want to help alleviate the spread of germs, why don't we install automated toilet tissue dispensers? We all go into restrooms with the germs of the world on our hands. (You know you don't wash your hands before you enter the stall.) We do our business and reach for the tissue. And what about those people who reach for the tissue twice? You know they have not washed their hands and well, you also know where those hands have been. Once we have taken part in this stall scenario, the germ free paper towels are such a non-issue. We have already shaken hands with a whole world of germs. And then there are those paper seat protectors. You have to use your hands to get those out and to actually put them on the seat. No hand washing there either. I think those things must be used only for their placebo affect.

So, if we really want to stop the spread of germs in public restrooms, we need to advocate for automatic toilet paper dispensers. Petition your employer; write to your senator and congressman; perhaps this could even be a topic of discussion for our presidential candidates. Never underestimate the power of a few dedicated people.

I'm off to clean my bathrooms.

Texas Wildflowers

Okay At 46

They say that when we are in our forties we enter a phase where questions about our life accomplishments and what legacy we will leave behind become important. Here I am in the second half of that decade and indeed these questions do creep into my thoughts every now and then. The answers? They don't creep in so much.

Should I be asked to answer these questions on the spot, I would have to say that one of my greatest successes in my 46 years is my kids. I am very lucky that I have raised one to be a legal adult without her dropping out of school, getting arrested, or getting pregnant. If you listen to the statistics released by those who research teen aged behavior, you realize that this is no small accomplishment. Offspring No. 1 is a good kid. She did well in high school and is working hard in college. With any luck, she will graduate with a degree that will help her to become a good wage earning, tax paying citizen. (We can only claim her as a dependent for so long!)

I am equally proud of Offspring No. 2. Though she is still in high school, I trust that in two years, I will be able to say that she too has not dropped out, been arrested or gotten pregnant. (I know that statements like this are what get a mother in trouble. How many times have we all heard "Not my kid!") She is a strong, bright, caring and compassionate kid. I hope that she is able to carry all of this with her into adulthood. Though Offspring No. 2 says that she is in no hurry to leave home, I have no doubt that she will go on to do great things. I suspect that when she reaches her forties, her list of accomplishments will be much clearer and much longer than mine.

Just as I am feeling satisfied that raising good kids is a pretty damn good life's work, I receive the following from Offspring No. 1 and my world is shaken by a whirlwind of doubt.

This is college girls playing rugby. Mine is the one in the maroon jersey on her ass.

About this time last year I was writing about how sad I was that Offspring No. 1 would not be playing soccer anymore. She said that after her last high school season was over, that was it. She had survived many years as a goalkeeper and never been carted off tof he field on a gurney. She wanted to keep it that way.

Here is a case and point on that never say never thing. She is indeed still playing soccer - indoor and outdoor. And in addition, she is also playing rugby. I think she is working to even out that injury statistic.

She sent the following picture with the explanation that rugby is a really social sport. After every game, both teams get together for "refreshments" and sing a few obligatory (rude and crude) songs about the joys of their beloved sport.

Can you find Offspring No. 1 in this one? I am feeling really prod now! Do they have women's rugby in the Olympics? Just a thought.

I am not willing to give in to the notion yet that I am a failure. Offspring No. 2 is still showing great potential. But if she should, by some miracle, let me down, I have figured out what my legacy will be.

I will leave an enormous number of unfinished knitting projects behind - perhaps more than anyone else.

Now I can stop worrying about silly things like why am I here. I am free to move on to more important questions like is it 6 or 8 Oreos that is considered to be a serving.

Just Kidding

Bad pun but cute pictures.

One Small Touch For Mankind

The second Saturday of each month is the regular gathering day for my Franciscan fellowship. Usually we meet in Austin, a trip I look forward to each month. This time, however, we decided to meet on the grounds of a religious community just north of Waco. Since there are those of us who come from the Dallas area and others who come from Austin, this location allowed us to meet in the middle.

When I first discovered the community in Elm Mott, I assumed that they were Mennonite because of their dress and obvious way of life that is grounded in simplicity and respect for the land. I learned today that I had assumed incorrectly; this group defines themselves as "non-denominational". I really don't know anything about them except that which is revealed in their public image. I am afraid that I would not be so enamored if I really knew all that they are about. So, I will live on in ignorance for the present.

I am willing to be less than knowledgeable about the ins and outs of this religious sect because I am so taken with their lifestyle. They farm, growing most of the food that they eat and serve to the public; they grind their own grain; and they practice crafts such as woodworking, soap making, sewing, spinning, weaving. knitting, and pottery.

For some reason I seem to have a fascination with pottery,. I love to look at the one of a kind finished pieces, and I am mesmerized by watching pots as they are thrown. Today, as I observed a young woman making lids for honey pots, I became more aware than ever of the possibilities that our hands hold.

With a big glop of clay that looked like absolutely nothing recognizable and a bit of water, in only a few minutes the woman crafted this slimy wet mess into a perfectly fitting lid for her previously made pots. The most amazing part to me was how gentle her touch on the clay was; in what seemed like an effortless motion, the intricate details of the pot's lid began to emerge and take shape. As I stood watching her work, I was struck with the notion of how powerful our slight touch can be. As with most things, this realization brings with it both the positive and the negative.

The positive - with just a gentle touch big changes are possible. The negative - with just a gentle touch big changes are possible. I often find myself opting out of working for positive change by whining about the fact that I am only one person. What can one person do? As I watched the potter's hands, I heard the message loud and clear that one person, with gentle but deliberate hands, can make a difference. This was a valuable and much needed lesson for me to have learned today. And, the mode of instruction was most enjoyable.

Here are a few pictures.

This first pictures shows the beginning of the process. The clay really is just a blob. The potter must center it, to prevent the final object from being lop-sided, before any detailed shaping can begin.

She is now beginning to pull the work and start the gross shaping of the honey pot lid.

More details are added.
The piece is almost finished and ready to be cut from the clay still on the wheel and set to dry before its finishing touches are added.

Never underestimate the potential impact of a gentle touch.

From Trash To Treasure

At our house, Friday is trash day. Because we live in the country, the trash truck comes only once a week to empty our dumpster. Unlike those of you who live in the city and have to put your garbage on the curb the morning of your pick-up, we can haul our trash bags to the dumpster at any point during the week. If the resident critters want to investigate our discarded goods, they can crawl into the dumpster and have at it. (And I'm sure they do.) However, we do not run the risk of having our weekly garbage strewn across the neighborhood providing our neighbors with the opportunity to wonder if we really did eat three gallons of ice cream and twelve frozen pizzas in the last seven days.

Despite the fact that I can empty all the garbage cans and carry them out at any point during the week, I always seem to wait until Thursday evening. Or, as the case was this week, Friday morning. As it turns out, in this instance my procrastination paid off. During the terrible storms we had Wednesday night and Thursday morning, a strong gust of wind turned over our dumpster, possibly because it was empty? If I had been efficient with the emptying of the trash cans, I would have had to deal with the neighbors and the ice cream and the pizza boxes. It would not have been pretty. So don't you, my fellow procrastinators, ever let anyone tell you that you'll be sorry if you wait until the last minute. Here is proof that that may not be the case.

The upshot of all this is that early this morning I was running around trying to get all the cans emptied and carried out to the dumpster before I left for the day or the trash truck came. Boy we have a lot of trash cans! I made my way through the house muttering to myself that I seem to be the only one in this household that recognizes the fact that every container has a finite limit to what it can hold. The proof here is simple. If the trash ends up on the floor surrounding the trash can, the can has exceeded its limit and you should empty it. Why is this such a difficult concept to grasp? Anyway, after three bathrooms downstairs and a laundry room can full of dryer lint, because I have finally conquered the mound of dirty clothes that was almost eligible to be counted as a permanent resident by the census bureau, I made my way upstairs for one more bathroom can and the kitchen trash. As I rounded the last turn, I was struck by the view off of the deck.

My attention was drawn from my chores to the morning's beautiful sunrise. The early rays of the sun defined the few lines of clouds. These same beams of sunlight made the newly budding leaves on the trees look like they were glowing. Simply stated, it was an awesome image.

I am often guilty of saying "that would be an amazing picture" but not taking the time to go get my camera and actually capture the sight. Perhaps I was remembering my own pontificating in my last post about making time for the things that you really want to do and this morinig I did grab the camera and take this picture.

I will admit that being in the presence of this sight this morning was much more dramatic and much more impressive than this photograph suggests. You'll have to take my word for it. I am also willing to admit that I may have been drawn to the new day's rising sun as a not so gentle reminder that there is always beauty in our midst; we just have to take the time to look at it.

I am happy to report that even though I was sidetracked by today's sunrise and my taking its picture, I still managed to get everything to the dumpster on time. It is OK to stop and smell the roses or in my case, stop and watch the leaves glow.

A belated happy spring to all . . .