A Tale of Two Socks

While Doug and I were dating he shared a story with me about how he felt about socks and life. The story was that people were much like socks in that some found their mate and stayed together for life while others get separated in the dryer and go through life searching for the other. He was beginning to believe he was a lost sock until I came along.

This sad contemplation has led me to a rigorous sock pairing search every few months. Doug collects his assortment of unmatched socks and I go on a mission.

It is amazing how many socks get separated and no matter how hard you look, you just can't find that perfect one. It is theoretically impossible to lose a sock. Especially in our house where dirty laundry goes down the laundry chute and falls into a basket in the basement. Then magic elves (or so most of my family seem to believe) sort the clothes, wash, dry, fold and bring them back up the stairs. On most days, the clothes reappear in your drawer ready for the trip again.

So tell me, how does a sock, much less a lot of socks, get lost in this process? Last night I found seven pairs of socks. That gave me a lot of satisfaction and seem to bring peace to Doug's troubled heart. Then I looked at all the other socks in the pile and wondered how much satisfaction I could get out of throwing them out and buying him new ones. It seems to me that would be a great experience as well.

So I wonder, how much time do other people, normal ones that have not attached themselves to the sock saga, spend trying to find sock mates?

Some Dreams Do Come True

I wrote several weeks ago about having dreams and plans for the future and this weekend I had the joy of sharing the experience as a dear friend fulfilled a long time dream. After many years of training, my good friend Judy Quick was ordained as a Reverend Deacon in the Episcopal Church. The deacon is one of three distinct orders of ordained ministers (bishops, priests, deacons) in the Episcopal Church.

The ceremony took place at the Cathedral Church of the Advent in Birmingham, Alabama, a beautiful old structure with history dating back to a small framed church built in 1873. The ceremony was special in that two bishops presided.

The weekend activities started with Judy and her husband, Gene, hosting a dinner where I was introduced to 12 other close friends that all shared a special place in her life. Some dated back to high school, others college or from different areas of the country she had lived. And the newest friend present was the deacon from Jackson Mississippi who had mentored her as she prepared for this event. It was a lively dinner as old friends became new friends.

The next day was even a larger crowd as neighbors and church friends drove into Birmingham for the occasion. One colleague flew in from Paris, where Judy occasionally teaches a course in International Marketing.

After the beautiful, but lengthy service, we had a luncheon at the old Tutwiler Hotel. It seemed appropriate that we dinned to celebrate in a historical hotel which dates back to 1914 and houses pictures from the Civil Rights movement in Birmingham from the 1960's. The Tutwiler is known as a haunted hotel, if so, the spirits had to be pleased with the group that assembled to celebrate with Judy as she begins this new chapter of her life.

A Deacon in the Episcopal church is a servant of the church. The beginning of the deacon is said to be found in The Acts of the Apostles, chapter 6 where seven apostles are chosen to take over the care for the poor and the sick. Some consider this a step in becoming a priest, overs like Judy want to remain in this position.

Unlike a priest, a deacon can only be ordained by a Bishop ("God now calls you to a special ministry of servant-hood directly under your bishop.")

A priest wears a stole over both shoulders to remind him of the burdens of serving Christ. A deacon wears his stole over one shoulder as a towel, to remind him of his service to the community. Judy wears her sash as a queen.




Judy Quick

I Had A Melt Down at "The Club" the Other Night

There is a very small infamous community in Georgia, north of Springfield, where people for generations isolated themselves from the other communities. Inbreeding began and eventually this led to noticeable physical traits such as a diminutive statue and poor eyesight. The area is known as Tiger Ridge.

Being from Savannah I have seen people from Tiger Ridge out in the malls or around town. There is no mistaking them. So I can say with clarity that I have recently found myself thrown into a community not much different from Tiger Ridge in that people have isolated themselves from other communities and are beginning to suffer from noticeable diminished mental attributes.

The phenomenon began, I believe, with people working from home or semi-retired due to the downturn in the economy. These misguided believed they were keeping in touch with the outside world by watching "fair and balanced"news, free from the liberal press. What they were watching was sensationalism no different from the evangelistic minister screaming from the pulpit that all were damned and going straight to hell unless they believed as he did....and so they began to believe. I am also a qualified expert in this area having been exposed to every religious intolerant that came through Savannah as a small child.

What I am saying is that I know Tiger Ridge when I see it!

People I would normally respect now take every social occasion to pollute the air with their negative views and intolerance for any one who is not just like them or does not belief just as they believe. These people spend their days circulating internet stories and jokes, patting themselves on the back that some how they are superior. Most of the topics they choose to discuss at cocktail parties or across the dinner table would be best whispered in the dark as a confessional bedtime prayer to God to forgive their mean-spirited thoughts and deeds towards mankind. In their opinion the less fortunate are becoming nothing but parasites bringing down the rest of civilization, demanding from those who have worked and slayed to get ahead.......the President is an evil villain/naivete'/socialist/unlearned falsified illegal (choose all that apply).

A few days ago I sent out on Facebook a positive news story, from a respectable online source, that the US has had some success in our recent handling of Middle Eastern policies. I got back a blistering reprimand that maybe I should move to a socialist country!

On the way to "The Club" for dinner, the neighbor driving told one racist joke after another putting down all but the straight, Anglo-Saxon, blue-eyed blondes. During salads I tried to bring the conversation back to reason as I don't really believe hard working Americans are being beat out by illegals for liver transplants (I swear on my sainted grandmother's grave.....this out of the mouth of a man who partnered one of the top law firms in Atlanta). By the serving of the main course, when I saw my own mate shrinking into a diminutive statue and beginning to squint his eyes, I said as softly as possible with venom dripping out of my mouth, hysteria in my voice and possibly a steak knife in my hand......"another word and I walk out of here. I will not have another dinner ruined!"

My husband says I won't be invited to any cocktail or dinner parties any time soon by his friends or our neighbors.

I ask him to swear to that on a Bible!

Just A Mule

While growing up I would overhear my friends and cousins ask the age old question to their dad. " Am I pretty?" Each dad would of course swear that his daughter was the prettiest thing that walked the earth.

My dad was mum on these compliments.

When I finally noticed him beaming at me one day I got up the nerve to ask, "Dad, am I pretty?"

"You are as pretty as a mule with a rubber tail!" was his reply. I smiled back and decided not to ponder that answer too long. It became our little joke.

To this day I am not sure what he meant. I believe his message was that looks don't matter, at least that is how I took it. I do know that he was extremely proud of me. I do know that in times of trouble he was always there, not necessarily to solve problems for me, but to listen and to reassure me that I would work it out, or that he would be with me through the consequences if I made the wrong decision.

So now, I am not big on the compliments when it comes to looks. I have learned there will always be a younger, prettier, smarter woman in the room. BUT I am as pretty as a mule with a rubber tail and no one can take that confidence away.

Turkeys, Bears, Deer, Snakes, oh my!

Living on a mountain, no matter how tame it appears to visitors, is a different world than the city. You learn to drive down the mountain for your mail, newspapers and to take your garbage to the dump. You even learn that water is not to be taken for granted on a mountain, it has to be pumped up from the lines below and losing electricity can mean losing water as well.

There is something sweet about having to stop your car for a deer, or two or three, trying to make up their mind which direction they want to head from the middle of the road. And the occasional flock of wild turkey is also charming to watch. Even a bear from the safety of your deck or car is interesting.

I have learned to live with the tiny field mice with giant ears that make it into the house somehow each winter, although I am not overly fond of them. However, the snake curled up in my flower bed or on my walk is another thing. I have learned somewhat of poisonous versus non-poisonous, but they all give me a start once I realize they are around.

My worse nightmare happened a few years ago when a big black snake crawled into the house through an open door on a beautiful fall afternoon. He obviously had never watched animal kingdom and did not cooperate with our trying to get him to wrap around a broom handle to get out of the house. These black snakes do not seem to be scared of humans. Quite a few of my neighbors have had them visit.

Another creation I have no desire to meet is the mountain lion which roams the woods. Several neighbors have had brief interactions with these cats. Occasionally late at night you hear what appears to be the screams of a demented female. It's just the cats.....as if that is somehow reassuring.

Neither A Dreamer or a Planner Be

A few weeks ago the discussion was around my daughter sharing her dreams of getting into a top law school next year when she graduates from college. The statement was made how we all have to have our dreams

I don't have a dream. It sounds lost and kind of pathetic, but I don't. I don't know if i have ever been a dreamer. I seem to be a planner and I wonder if most of my plans don't just come about assisting others with their dreams.

I am not saying that I live to listen to the wants and needs of others and make those happen, I just think I get caught up in the day by day and your dream sounds good enough for me to adopt and see how I can help.

I am sitting in a big log home in the mountains over looking a beautiful lake. This was my husbands dream. It is a fabulous house and now it is taking a lot of time keeping it from becoming our nightmare.

My oldest daughter dreamed up being a doctor and she is. Where her dad made most of that dream come true, I still played my part in the process.

My youngest now wants to get into NYU or Columbia Law School. It is a much better dream than when she wanted to head out to LA to become an actress based on reviews of her elementary school stage experience. Now I lay away at night planning how I will be able to help her make that happen.

In the mean time I am worried I don't have a dream of my own. The only dream I think I ever had was one of living in different places every year or so. Getting to know different people, not putting down roots. Kind of sounds like a cowboy.

Of course I realize that the reality of that dream is that you would spend a lot of time by yourself. Holidays could be a bad I bet - but then you wouldn't have to cook and clean for a house full of guest either (making their dream of a Norman Rockwell family holiday come true.) On the other hand, families have a way of hunting you down at their leisure to make sure you don't get any of yours.

I dream of living at the beach, but right now it is so hot on this mountain that I can't image what the beach is like. There is that reality thing again.

I dream of a Maine cabin in the fall.

I dream of getting up and doing yoga on my back deck.........

My Thought on Science and Religion

My Thought on Science and Religion

In this house there is an ongoing argument of science versus religion with both sides looking smug and sure of their convictions. I have set by for years listening and weighing my thoughts, believing in the wonders of science but never willing to give up my prayers. Here are some of my thoughts.

Science begins with a small child learning the premise of action versus reaction and the leanings should never end. Science first helps a child explore his universe and then becomes the tool to study "the universe." There is a doctrine of science for any and everyone beginning with the very concrete love of nature and the creatures of our world to time dimensions and string theorems.

The child many times starts his religious experiences with stories of love and creation. These teachings help him/her establish a foundation of rules of right versus wrong, good versus evil and a sense of justice and injustice. These teachings give a child a sense of well being that allows for exploration and questioning. These teaching allow a child to grow.

So my belief is that science and religion are not opposing camps, but the same camp. Either taken to the extreme is harmful to our development and well being. Religion taken to the extreme promotes ignorance and intolerance. Science taken to the extreme promotes intolerance and anger.

More on this later.....

Lila Gives Us All a Lesson on Life's Challanges

So this past week has brought changes to my little girl and her husband.
















I have witnessed my lovely daughter and handsome son-in-law move from being a young couple awaiting the birth of their first child, to parents facing scary health issues. The two of them have had to grow up fast and furious with this beautiful daughter of theirs, first having a difficult time eating and then finding out that she has a heart arrhythmia problem, which hopefully she will outgrown, but in the meantime will require monitoring and medication. They learned very quickly the fear that takes over a parent when they realize their young one is in danger. They experienced being in the Infants ICU the heartbreak other parents also have had to face with a young child. In a time when you wish only beautiful days and sleep-filled nights, they have faced some of the ugliest realities of parenthood. And they faced it together. That is the silver lining to this cloud. Both concerned over the welfare of the other.

Today they had their first lesson on how to live with a baby with a slight, temporary (we have faith) heart condition. I saw them smile up at each other while they were monitoring her heart and saw the love in their eyes, for each other and the baby they created. It was a joy to be there.

Being a Grandmother

My time has come. I am a grandmother. It was nothing I really thought about, but now that it has happened it is a great thing. I have always said I would live forever and now I have the proof that I will live on.

I have had fun in picking out a "grandparent"name. After meeting Baby Lila I announced my grandmother name would be Boss Mama.

Lila came home today from the hospital. It was a long grueling birth, 72 hours trying to induce or in labor and then all of this ending in a C-Section. But we have a beautiful baby girl who seems to have no desire to learn to nurse.

Enough of the details. Being a grandmother is going to be a great experience. Unfortunately Lila and my little family live in California and I am in Georgia. I guess the airlines will get a good chunk of my retirement money.

Staying Grounded

A couple of years ago I had the experience of spending a day with a Shaman in the Arizona desert. Other than starting the day having our spirits purified by preforming a ritual of burning feathers and chanting, the majority of the day's event were centered around visiting various vortexes of the area and mediating. One of the meditations practiced had a lasting impact on me. We sat out in the desert perfectly still for a period of 15-20 minutes. We were told to image that our spines were reaching down into the earth as roots of a tree. Then we were told to understand our place on the earth and with the earth.


This might not appear to be your thing, but everyone was effected that day. Sitting there with no external noise but the wind or an occasional bird is very usual these days with busy schedules and constant accessibility. Several had visions that were interpreted by our Shaman. One of the group was scared of the experience and another was skeptical - choosing to believe in nothing spiritual. But overall, we experienced a sense of peace.

Even now when things start to get out of hand, I stop and mediate, straightening my spine and imaging myself as a tree growing out of the earth.

A couple