Saturday, November 7, 2009

Crafting for a Cause

Every year on the first Tuesday of November our church has a holiday boutique that is put on by the women's ministry, Women In Touch.  Who is the backbone of Women In Touch you might ask?  None other than my wonderful mother in law!  She would blush and tell you it's not true, but really, it is.  She works hard monthly to coordinate their luncheons, the speakers they have, hand makes hundreds of favors a month to set at the ladies' place settings... she's the real deal.  To see this big boutique come together year after year under her direction is pretty inspiring.  So many people give of their time and talents to provide home made goodies to sell for the boutique, with all of the proceeds going to missions.  They even sell some goods from underground churches we support in China and Vietnam - really incredible!

Well, every year AFTER the boutique has happened I tell myself that I will craft a couple of items a month and put them away so I won't have to cram everything in last minute.  So far, that hasn't happened.  The cramming and jamming seems to be where it's at for me right now.  But honestly, I enjoy participating and offering something to sell, so I don't really mind.  It's just that I know I could produce a lot more to sell if I wasn't up against the clock at the end.  In years past, I've given embroidered onsies.  But I didn't have any purchased, washed and ready to go.  I was feeling the time crunch and was having a lack of inspiration.  Then I was reading this lady's blog (which I do quite a lot) and something caught my eye.  She was wearing a fabulous headband that was decorated with yo-yos.  I started to get excited.  About a year ago I came across an online tutorial on how to make yo-yos so I already had some in a baggie stashed amongst my crafting supplies.  I hadn't been sure what to do with them - it was MEANT TO BE!!  I grabbed my glue gun and went to town.

They were so easy!  And I loved how they turned out!  Don't all the colors just make you smile?

I ended up making ten which seemed like a very small, insignificant drop in the bucket.   But that's not what it is about.  And it really motivated me to get it together for next year.  And to make one for myself. 

Boo to You

Round these parts Halloween is pretty fun.  It's my Gramps's birthday, so it has always been a celebration.  Not into the gory stuff, just a extra fun day to celebrate, dress up and what not.  As a kid I loved the dressing up (mostly because that meant I got to wear makeup! and eat candy! and stay up late! all the normally forbidden things when you're 8).  Also, if I'm reminiscing about Halloweens of days past I need to include my elementary schools AWESOME carnival, called the Shriek-o-Rama which was soooo much fun - oh, fond, fond memories!!  Now, it's just fun to be the grown up in my own home and decorate and prepare for it. Last year was the first year in our house and we were shocked at the number of trick or treaters we had.  Apparently, our street is the place to be.  And I guess I understand the appeal.  It's a cute flat street (in a very hilly little valley) and our neighbors decorate with lights and jack o' lanterns and spider webs.  But we didn't feel like celebrating.  We had just gotten Gabe's diagnosis and pretty much wanted to keep to ourselves.  Handing out candy was the only thing we did.  THIS year though, we were prepared and ready to join in the festivities!!

Blitz got in on it too.  Joe stuck him in his old EMT jumpsuit, and to our amazement he kept it on all night.  It was quite the hit with my family and the kids who came to the porch.

So I invited my folks and my Granny and Gramps over to help me since Joe had to work that night, and I knew it would be busy with kids and thought they would get a kick out of seeing everything since anymore their streets are VERY quite on Halloween.  What I didn't know was that since it was the night before Daylight Savings was to end, Joe got to start work an hour late.  It was great to have him there too.  We carved our pumpkins, got to visit with everyone, and played some rounds of Quiddler (a really fun word making card game), and manned the door.  We mostly let my mom have candy duty, which she loved.  We live in the same district of the elementary school that she works at, so to see the kids' reactions when they saw her at the door was hysterical.  You know, that feeling of weirdness and shock you would have if you ever ran into one of your teachers outside of their classroom in a real place, like the grocery store or gas station?  That's what was all over their faces.  "Mrs. L?  YOU live here?!?!"  Then you could hear them muttering to themselves after they had gotten their candy the mind-blowing fact that Mrs. L had given them Halloween candy.

This was the first year that my Gramps didn't carve a jack 'o lantern for himself on his birthday.  He just thought that all the carving and scraping would be too much for his hands this year - I wish I knew how to work the scanner, because there are some really cute pictures of him at around 4 with his birthday pumpkin that are priceless.  I just love my Granny and Gramps.  There is no one like them!!  I'll have to do a post some day just about them - they have a very romantic story (well, I think so anyway) complete with a blind date meeting and a war wedding.  This past July they celebrated their 67th anniversary.  I want to be like them. 

So we had about two and a half hours of a solid stream of people, and the grand total of trick or treaters was 168.  We had 6 big bags of candy that I had gotten, my mom brought 3 and Granny brought 1 and we still had to send dad out for a candy run to Safeway before the night was over. 

Aaaaaand Blitz helped himself to his own treat at the very end of the night.  When things died down at the end, I pulled the pumpkins in so they wouldn't get smashed in the street overnight and placed them on the hearth for safekeeping.  Ha!!  I was in the kitchen cleaning up, and when I walked back into the living room, that's the sight that greeted me.  Who knew dogs liked pumpkin?

Friday, October 30, 2009

On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs

This installment of the Red Geranium blogtasticness is not coming to you from your usual lovely hostess with the mostess. Instead her hubby, Mr Red Geranium will be sharing an excerpt from an excellent book I've been reading. Now you might not think this is very fitting with the regular texture of my wife's blog. But from my perspective its required reading. Even though most (if not all?) of the readers of the blog are of the fairer sex, I don't see that it matters and I believe this article is applicable. Don't make the mistake in thinking that this is written only for soldiers and police officers. Whether you are a mamma bear who is protective of her anklebiters and can get more involved with your kids' safety at school and in your home, or maybe you need a to encourage your man to become all the sheepdog that he can be...this is a must read. Take another step or three with me up the continuum and away from denial. Please don't live in denial. Its a dangerous place to be . . .

On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs
(From the book, On Combat, by Lt. Col. Dave Grossman)

"Honor never grows old, and honor rejoices the heart of age. It does so because honor is, finally, about defending those noble and worthy things that deserve defending, even if it comes at a high cost. In our time, that may mean social disapproval, public scorn, hardship, persecution, or as always, even death itself.

The question remains: What is worth defending? What is worth dying for? What is worth living for?"

- William J. Bennett
In a lecture to the United States Naval Academy
November 24, 1997

One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me: “Most of the people in our society are sheep. They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident.” This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another.

Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.

Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.

I mean nothing negative by calling them sheep. To me it is like the pretty, blue robin’s egg. Inside it is soft and gooey but someday it will grow into something wonderful. But the egg cannot survive without its hard blue shell. Police officers, soldiers and other warriors are like that shell, and someday the civilization they protect will grow into something wonderful. For now, though, they need warriors to protect them from the predators.

“Then there are the wolves,” the old war veteran said, “and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy.” Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy? You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.

“Then there are sheepdogs,” he went on, “and I’m a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf.” Or, as a sign in one California law enforcement agency put it, “We intimidate those who intimidate others.”

If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen: a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath--a wolf. But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? Then you are a sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero’s path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed.

The gift of aggression
"What goes on around you... compares little with what goes on inside you."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Everyone has been given a gift in life. Some people have a gift for science and some have a flair for art. And warriors have been given the gift of aggression. They would no more misuse this gift than a doctor would misuse his healing arts, but they yearn for the opportunity to use their gift to help others. These people, the ones who have been blessed with the gift of aggression and a love for others, are our sheepdogs. These are our warriors.

One career police officer wrote to me about this after attending one of my Bulletproof Mind training sessions:

"I want to say thank you for finally shedding some light on why it is that I can do what I do. I always knew why I did it. I love my [citizens], even the bad ones, and had a talent that I could return to my community. I just couldn’t put my finger on why I could wade through the chaos, the gore, the sadness, if given a chance try to make it all better, and walk right out the other side."

Let me expand on this old soldier’s excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial; that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids’ schools. But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid’s school. Our children are dozens of times more likely to be killed, and thousands of times more likely to be seriously injured, by school violence than by school fires, but the sheep’s only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their children is just too hard, so they choose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheepdog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.

Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn’t tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. The sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, “Baa.”

Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog. As Kipling said in his poem about “Tommy” the British soldier:

While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind,"
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind.

The students, the victims, at Columbine High School were big, tough high school students, and under ordinary circumstances they would not have had the time of day for a police officer. They were not bad kids; they just had nothing to say to a cop. When the school was under attack, however, and SWAT teams were clearing the rooms and hallways, the officers had to physically peel those clinging, sobbing kids off of them. This is how the little lambs feel about their sheepdog when the wolf is at the door. Look at what happened after September 11, 2001, when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero?

Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle. That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones.

Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, “Thank God I wasn’t on one of those planes.” The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, “Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference.” When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference.

While there is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, he does have one real advantage. Only one. He is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.

There was research conducted a few years ago with individuals convicted of violent crimes. These cons were in prison for serious, predatory acts of violence: assaults, murders and killing law enforcement officers. The vast majority said that they specifically targeted victims by body language: slumped walk, passive behavior and lack of awareness. They chose their victims like big cats do in Africa, when they select one out of the herd that is least able to protect itself.

However, when there were cues given by potential victims that indicated they would not go easily, the cons said that they would walk away. If the cons sensed that the target was a "counter-predator," that is, a sheepdog, they would leave him alone unless there was no other choice but to engage.

One police officer told me that he rode a commuter train to work each day. One day, as was his usual, he was standing in the crowded car, dressed in blue jeans, T-shirt and jacket, holding onto a pole and reading a paperback. At one of the stops, two street toughs boarded, shouting and cursing and doing every obnoxious thing possible to intimidate the other riders. The officer continued to read his book, though he kept a watchful eye on the two punks as they strolled along the aisle making comments to female passengers, and banging shoulders with men as they passed.

As they approached the officer, he lowered his novel and made eye contact with them. “You got a problem, man?” one of the IQ-challenged punks asked. “You think you’re tough, or somethin’?” the other asked, obviously offended that this one was not shirking away from them.

“As a matter of fact, I am tough,” the officer said, calmly and with a steady gaze.

The two looked at him for a long moment, and then without saying a word, turned and moved back down the aisle to continue their taunting of the other passengers, the sheep.

Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I’m proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.

Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, “Let’s roll,” which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers--athletes, business people and parents--from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.

“Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”

"here is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men."
- Edmund Burke
Reflections on the Revolution in France

Here is the point I like to emphasize, especially to the thousands of police officers and soldiers I speak to each year. In nature the sheep, real sheep, are born as sheep. Sheepdogs are born that way, and so are wolves. They didn’t have a choice. But you are not a critter. As a human being, you can be whatever you want to be. It is a conscious, moral decision.

If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love. But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior’s path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.

For example, many officers carry their weapons in church. They are well concealed in ankle holsters, shoulder holsters or inside-the-belt holsters tucked into the small of their backs. Anytime you go to some form of religious service, there is a very good chance that a police officer in your congregation is carrying. You will never know if there is such an individual in your place of worship, until the wolf appears to slaughter you and your loved ones.

I was training a group of police officers in Texas, and during the break, one officer asked his friend if he carried his weapon in church. The other cop replied, “I will never be caught without my gun in church.” I asked why he felt so strongly about this, and he told me about a police officer he knew who was at a church massacre in Ft. Worth, Texas, in 1999. In that incident, a mentally deranged individual came into the church and opened fire, gunning down 14 people. He said that officer believed he could have saved every life that day if he had been carrying his gun. His own son was shot, and all he could do was throw himself on the boy’s body and wait to die. That cop looked me in the eye and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself after that?”

Some individuals would be horrified if they knew this police officer was carrying a weapon in church. They might call him paranoid and would probably scorn him. Yet these same individuals would be enraged and would call for “heads to roll” if they found out that the airbags in their cars were defective, or that the fire extinguisher and fire sprinklers in their kids’ school did not work. They can accept the fact that fires and traffic accidents can happen and that there must be safeguards against them. Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones were attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?”

The warrior must cleanse denial from his thinking. Coach Bob Lindsey, a renowned law enforcement trainer, says that warriors must practice “when/then” thinking, not “if/when.” Instead of saying,“If it happens then I will take action,” the warrior says, “When it happens then I will be ready.”

It is denial that turns people into sheep. Sheep are psychologically destroyed by combat because their only defense is denial, which is counterproductive and destructive, resulting in fear, helplessness and horror when the wolf shows up.

Denial kills you twice. It kills you once, at your moment of truth when you are not physically prepared: You didn’t bring your gun; you didn’t train. Your only defense was wishful thinking. Hope is not a strategy. Denial kills you a second time because even if you do physically survive, you are psychologically shattered by fear, helplessness, horror and shame at your moment of truth.

Chuck Yeager, the famous test pilot and first man to fly faster than the speed of sound, says that he knew he could die. There was no denial for him. He did not allow himself the luxury of denial. This acceptance of reality can cause fear, but it is a healthy, controlled fear that will keep you alive:

"I was always afraid of dying. Always. It was my fear that made me learn everything I could about my airplane and my emergency equipment, and kept me flying respectful of my machine and always alert in the cockpit."
- Brigadier General Chuck Yeager
Yeager, An Autobiography

Gavin de Becker puts it like this in Fear Less, his superb post-9/11 book, which should be required reading for anyone trying to come to terms with our current world situation:

"..denial can be seductive, but it has an insidious side effect. For all the peace of mind deniers think they get by saying it isn’t so, the fall they take when faced with new violence is all the more unsettling. Denial is a save-now-pay-later scheme, a contract written entirely in small print, for in the long run, the denying person knows the truth on some level."
And so the warrior must strive to confront denial in all aspects of his life, and prepare himself for the day when evil comes.

If you are a warrior who is legally authorized to carry a weapon and you step outside without that weapon, then you become a sheep, pretending that the bad man will not come today. No one can be “on” 24/7 for a lifetime. Everyone needs down time. But if you are authorized to carry a weapon, and you walk outside without it, just take a deep breath, and say this to yourself... “Baa.”

This business of being a sheep or a sheepdog is not a yes-no dichotomy. It is not an all-or-nothing, either-or choice. It is a matter of degrees, a continuum. On one end is an abject, head-in-the-grass sheep and on the other end is the ultimate warrior. Few people exist completely on one end or the other. Most of us live somewhere in between. Since 9-11 almost everyone in America took a step up that continuum, away from denial. The sheep took a few steps toward accepting and appreciating their warriors, and the warriors started taking their job more seriously. The degree to which you move up that continuum, away from sheephood and denial, is the degree to which you and your loved ones will survive, physically and psychologically at your moment of truth.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Beautiful Night for a Stroll

Monday, September 7, 2009

Wishful Thinking

I like purses.

A lot.  

They are probably my one "big" indulgence.  I still have the very first purse I ever was given when I was around 3; navy blue corduroy, with a little leather strap.  It was a vital part of my ensemble when I would go on walks around the block with my Granny and we would collect leaves, flowers, rocks and I would stick them in my purse for safe keeping til I got home and could organize my loot. Now it is safely stashed away in my memory box along with favorite books and tiny shoes and a favorite stuffed animal.  

Then in my teens, I graduated to all kinds of colorful, patterned, glitzy bags big and small and had Rubbermaid bins that I stored them in since there was such an abundance.  When my family went to New York I thought I had died  and gone to heaven on Canal Street where you can buy designer knock offs for cheap.  Eventually though, I outgrew them and gave them away to some high school girls at my church who were happy for the freebies.

Now, I actually have some very nice designer purses that I love.  Joe has seriously spoiled me in that way - and I am totally enjoying that cause I'm sure when kids come that will change.  The only problem is, since they are more expensive than the trendy ones I could run into Target and grab, I feel obligated that they should be serviceable FOR.EV.ER. and match any and all seasons/clothes/colors etc.  This means that I have had to tamp down my instincts to want the colorful bags and choose the sensible black and browns.  But I miss the colors.  I miss the fun.

Anyway, I was browsing online today, and I saw the pretty thing above (Kate Spade Westbury Opus-Drawstring in leather) and instantly like the cobalt-y blue color.  Ahhh... maybe one day.  

What're some of your favorite things to treat yourselves to?

And also, I hope you are enjoying your Labor Day - I know I am!!  12:30pm and I'm on my second cup of coffee still in my PJ's!  Not too shabby!

Friday, September 4, 2009

I Think Jane Austen Might Be Slightly Offended Right Now...

People are weird.  I mean, I think you really have to be slightly disturbed to turn the Bennetts, Bingleys and Darcy into brain- eating -undead creatures.  

But on the bright side there is finally a version of Pride and Prejudice that Joe can really get into!

(Any others of you out there have guys that're into zombies?  Or is it just me?)

Saturday, August 29, 2009

We Didn't Have Any Fun At All...

That was sarcasm.  It was awesome.  And to prove it, I uploaded 23,000 pictures for your viewing pleasure - cause let's face it, the pictures are the best part.

Hitting the road.  So happy!!

Where we stayed...

We noodled around the harbor that the hotel was located at and got our bearings and found some yummy restaurants to try out...

My super generous father in law lent me his super cool Kindle!!  Honestly, when I first heard of Kindles, I was a little bit of a snob and thought it was really weird - why would you want to replace a book?  I like the way new books smell and the way the pages rustle and crinkle and it makes sense to snuggle up with one.  But when they asked me what books I had packed for the trip and I replied no new ones since the one I had thought I might buy was still in hardback and $30.00.  My FIL said that we could download it to his Kindle for half the price.  So I gave it a shot - and it was wonderful.  So lightweight and convenient.  I may have to invest in one of those suckers.

We went to Cowell Ranch State Beach and it was pretty much deserted.  Perfect spot for a picnic lunch.

This is what happens when you and your husband leave your spot to see something in water.   Don't worry, we helped the seagull after we got the shot!

These were the only other people at the beach - fishermen.  I was really surprised because it seemed like shallow water to be fishing in.  They were pretty fascinating to watch.

We found unexpected little things all over the place... different from what you find in our quiet hometown.

Joe took a 5 hour guided kayak tour from the harbor we were at out into the ocean and 9 miles up the coast... can ya tell he's just a wee bit excited??

This guy kept me company as I watched Joe suit up and take off... closest I've even been to a pelican...

Yeah, he's all for kayaking now.  If you know Joe at all, you know that he is a passionate person and goes into something whole hog.  He has gone through many a hobby... so it looks like kayaking is in our future.  He's all set to head back to Half Moon Bay to get some classes and experience under his belt and dig deeper into it.  

And what did I do while he was gone for 5 hours?

I drove the truck into downtown Half Moon Bay and explored a little, then headed back to the hotel and got some coffee and a pedicure at the spa where we had gotten a couples massage earlier in the week.  I was a happy camper.

OK, so when we knew we were heading to the coast, we HAD to go to Gorilla BBQ in Pacifica, which is like a 15 minute drive from where we were staying.  We had seen it on Diners, Drive Ins and Dives on the Food Network and oh baby, it did not disappoint.  I really love good BBQ and this ranked right up there on my list.  My brisket sandwich was melt in your mouth!!

Like all good things, it did have to come to an end.  But it was so so so wonderful to get away - and it didn't take a faraway trip to really make a big difference.  Just taking ourselves out of the normal routine was like a breath of fresh air.  No cleaning, meal planning or shopping - just relaxing and going with the flow.  Best of all was getting that reconnection with Joe.  I married me a good guy.  I like him. I enjoy spending time with him.  I can't wait for the next chance to get away with him.  But 'til then, I will think back often to these last couple of days and be thankful at what we were able to do.

Friday, August 21, 2009


Awesome flight I took with my Gramps this past April on the Aluminum Overcast - only one of a few original B17s from the War still in operation, just like the ones that Gramps trained pilots on during the war... just chose it to fiddle with on the blog... trying to see if I can reformat photos on here to be bigger...  I think I really like how it looks... now I have to figure out how to resize my header in Photoshop -crap!!

Thursday, August 20, 2009

A Change of Location

About two weeks ago I was all poised to purchase our flight tickets to New York.  I had already found a great apartment on Craig's list to rent for a few nights in the city (which incidentally was an awesome way to do it.  way more $$$ friendly than a hotel and you get a real taste of the local flavor. oh, and the place was nicer than our house - like newer and completely remodeled.) and then we were thinking we would head to New Jersey to stay with Joe's brother Jake and his lovely wife Lisa so we could see what their life there is like.  But I wanted to run the final flight times by Joe before I hit the "buy" button.

He was already into his shift at work.  Sometimes that doesn't make for the greatest serious conversation environment - what with the radio and walkie-talkie going off with calls for service and people messaging him on his computer asking questions and stuff.  But that night seemed to be a little slow.  So I filled him in on what I had found.  And he was quiet.

I should probably point out now that the funding for this vacation was anonymously gathered and delivered to us - for us to be able to get away and relax.  I can't tell you how completely wonderful, surprising and humbling it made me feel to open up the envelope and see what had been so generously gifted to us. (THANK YOU if any of you who gave are reading this...)  The money would cover our tickets and lodging in NY.  I had figured that all the extras we would cover.

He finally said that he had been thinking that a trip like that wouldn't be very relaxing or romantic  - more like a family vacation staying with his brother and hustling here and there trying to cram all the sights in.  Plus, we would need to stick to a stricter budget - so hopefully see a show but beyond that try and be frugal.  He had been thinking that if we stayed in California and nixed the airfare, we could really, REALLY treat ourselves to something wonderful and completely pampering... like massages and room service.

Massages?!?!  Say no more.  I was in.  New York will still be there for another time.  Point me to the spa!

So that night I searched out quaint and cozy B&Bs and was thinking that it would be awfully nice to head down the coast to see Hearst Castle and stay in Cayucos or Morro Bay.  I have fond memories of vacationing there with my family for a few summers through Jr. High and High School and would love to share it with Joe.  But unfortunately most of the cute places were booked for the dates we needed.  So I expanded my search parameters and called Joe again and asked if he had any ideas.  He suggested Half Moon Bay, which isn't all that far from where we are and I was a little bummed because that meant there wouldn't be much of a road trip... and we have an awful lot of fun on road trips together.  But then I found this place and that melted away.   It just seemed so appropriate for what we were aiming for... besides, don't you think that the ocean is healing and soothing?  I sure do.  The beauty and vastness of it just completely reminds me of the bigness and thoughtfulness of it's Creator. 

Oh yeah, it's gonna be awesome!!  It feels so nice to look forward to something... 3 more days.  I think I can make it.

Blitz's first time at Ocean Beach in San Francisco, our 4th anniversary 1/29/09

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Geez Louise


I guess the new header is me dipping my pinky toe back into bloggy -land.  I downloaded a trial of Adobe Elements, and I don't even want to tell you how long it took me to arrange one measly banner.  *harumph*  So if anyone has any great tips on how to make it go faster I would surely appreciate it. Oh, and also how do you get rounded corners on pictures when you edit them?  I need step-by-step instructions like you would give to a 5 year old.  Thanks in advance!

Of course, this is typical me.  Jump head long into something and then get completely frustrated when it doesn't look as fantastical as it does in my mind and come to realize that I don't know what the heck I'm doing.

Also, adding another time-involved project to my list.  That is typical me too.  I have about 5 rotating projects currently.  You'll get the low down on them all.    

Other than that, things have slowly ebbed back into a normal rhythm here.  I've been back to work since the beginning of April, off of the Zoloft since Memorial Day weekend.  Getting excited that we're headed to New York at the end of next month for vacation with money that was generously and anonymously donated to us for a "get away trip fund" after everything happened.  We weeded and planted roses and hydrangeas in the front and side yard and still have to tackle the blasted back yard.  Keeping up with antics of my crazy dog (he chewed up my reading glasses in a major way).  Finally painted our bedroom a lovely shade of grey.  

And yes, I'm sure it is on all of your minds so I'll just come out and say it.  We're trying again. As in, trying for a baby.  I know that there's a school of thought that says you shouldn't really share that news for fear of people pestering you and always asking "So....?", but I'll be frank.  There is a part of me that is a little afraid.  Afraid that we're doomed to have a repeat.  Afraid that we may never get pregnant again.  Really, fears that don't have a foundation... even if all those fears came true I KNOW WITHOUT A DOUBT that God would still be with us, just as good and loving as ever and we would make it.  He has shown that to me so graciously these past few months.  That being said, I am human and definitely wrestle with those little seeds of fear.  So I WANT and NEED your prayers.  We've shared this whole journey together, so why not the next part too, whether we get pregnant easily or face a hard time of it?  Because you all have been such a support to me - even in my absence from posting - your sweet emails and notes on facebook - oh, what a great group of women to hold me up!  And so, would you please pray that we would have an easy time getting pregnant and have a healthy little one?  

So there ya go.  What started out to be just a line or two to say "hi" became a gumbo of life's recent events.  Oh well.  Good to be back.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Let's Raise These Families Up

Hello dear readers!  I have all been keeping tabs on you, and just waiting for the right time to to post my own things.  I think up brilliant posts in the shower or while I'm trying to fall asleep at night, but I just am not sure HOW I should get back into blogging.  Do I walk you through the whole story of Gabe?  Or update you on the mundane things that are going on in my little world?  While I am still puzzling that one out, there is something important that I wanted to ask of you, that is not for myself.

I'm sure by now all of you have heard about the 4 Oakland police officers that were killed in the line of duty this past Saturday.  To say it hits close to home is not an understatement, and not just because Joe is part of the law enforcement community.  You see, one of the officers was our neighbor.

I can't claim a close relationship with him or his wife, but he and Joe would talk shop and they were always friendly.  I especially remember him this past Halloween because apparently he had trick-or-treating duty with their little girl, and I'm not sure who was having more fun; him or her.

I don't know whether they're believers or not, but readers, please let's bathe these four families in prayer!!  Their fathers/husbands gave their lives protecting a community that is more often than not extremely ungrateful for police presence... what heroes.  

I know the community will rally and show a strong sense of unity.  There has been between two and ten uniformed OPD officers posted 24 hours a day outside their house since the shooting, and will be until the memorial service on Friday.  How awesome is that!!  Many of the houses on our street are flying their flags to show we know.  We care.  We appreciate.

A lot of times it seems like firefighters get all the glory.  No one really likes the actual enforcers of the law... and yet, how selfless and brave are they!  If you hear a siren, say a prayer for either an officer one you know, or just for law enforcement in general.  I try and do that.  It's a tough, often thankless job.  One where there's no guarantee of safety, we just assume it will work out that way.

All this to say, I know what strong prayer warriors you all are, and I know how strongly prayer works.  I have seen it demonstrated time and time again these past five months.  I know there is nothing as soothing and as comforting as the peace that God can provide, and I wish that for their wives and children.  Won't you join me in asking for that for the families?  Thank you dear readers...

Thursday, January 15, 2009

On Today

Yesterday was not a good day emotion wise.  I cried a lot.  Grief is such a weird thing the way it leads you through so many different thoughts and feelings one right on top of another.  Sometimes one of the hardest things to deal with is that life just seems to keep right on moving on like he (Gabe) wasn't even here.  Even my own body seems completely traitorous in the fact that it has snapped back into shape (don't throw rocks at me) without a sign that he was there.  I just want to slam on the brakes because I don't feel ready to move on just yet... makes me want to climb onto the roof of my house and scream "does ANYONE understand what just happened to me? "  And yet, one of the comforting thoughts is that life won't always be like this - the sting and sorrow won't always be this strong.  Even on not good days, I am noticing little glimpses of the joy that will be restored to us again in small ways.

So today was a better day than yesterday and here are the little things that helped make it so:

Kisses from Joe & Blitz
Taking a real hot shower without fear of "stimulating" things
Watching Angie Smith's video and feeling like I know her personally - what a lady!!
Downloading Beyonce's "Put a Ring On It" and Britney's "Circus" (don't judge me)
Finding this verse and of course applying it to Gabe: "But now,thus says the Lord, your Creator, and He who formed you, 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine.' " Isaiah 43:1
Granny's soup - I swear it's better than a magical elixir
A spring-like day
Loving and understanding family
Sweet emails in my inbox and cards in my mailbox
The DVR simultaneously recording Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares & The Office
Freshly washed bedsheets

Baby steps.  But it's good.  Here's hoping it continues on in that direction.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Gabriel Joseph

Well friends, there has been a dark cloud over our heads here since October 14, 2008.  So dark in fact, that I considered stopping this blog all together.  But one of the things that I like best about this whole bloggy world is the transparency that comes along with it - to a certain degree anyway.  I know that the bloggers I feel the most inspired by and connected to are the ones who lay it all out there.  When tragedy struck me was I going to run and hide, or be honest about it and maybe, just maybe my experience might be able to help others?  

I decided that I would keep the blog going, and I know that it will be a good tool to help me deal with the hardest loss I've ever had to face.  Bear with me dear readers, I will fill you in with segments on the journey that Joe, myself, and our precious son Gabe went through the past 2.5 months and how God has been mightily at work in our lives in a seemingly hopeless situation.

For now, I will tell you that on December 30 at a routine Dr's appointment, they were not able to find Gabe's heartbeat, and that he had passed away due to heart failure - I was 6 months along with him.  Prior to that in October we had received the devastating news that he had a random chromosomal disorder (Trisomy 18), which was basically a fatal diagnosis.  We were hoping that he would make it full term... here's the email we sent out after the doctor's appointment on 12/30/08:

Friends and Family,

Kate and I found out today at our Dr's appointment that Gabe passed away due to heart failure.  We were hoping for him to make it to full term (he was at 6 months now) and get to at least share a few moments if not days to hold and interact with him, but it wasn't meant to be.  The next step is we will call tomorrow morning to schedule an appointment in the following few days to induce labor.  Please pray that the labor goes smoothly and for strength for Kate during the labor and delivery which the Dr expects to last 24-36 hours.  One thing that we praise God and are thankful for is we got the results of the amnio, and Kate and I are not genetic carriers, so there is no increased risk for a Trisomy 18 baby in future pregnancies.

As King David said when his and Bathsheba's son died, "I will go to him" looks like we'll get to go hang with Gabe in eternity.  Its a comfort to know where he is and that he already has a new body and is not feeling any pain or suffering.  Thank you for all your kind words of encouragement and prayers throughout this journey.  Look forward to seeing all of you soon and we covet your prayers and our relationship with each and every one of you.  Your support during this time has meant the world to Kate and I.


Joe and Kate

"Gabriel" means God is my strength....  Psalm 18:1-3 conveys it well:  "I love you, O Lord, my strength.  The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.  He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.  I call to the Lord who is worthy of praise, and I am saved from my enemies".

So I was induced on January first, and after 22 hours of labor delivered our sweet boy, Gabriel Joseph, on the 2nd at 1:21pm.  He weighed 1 pound and 7 ounces and was 12.5 inches long, with dark hair.  I came home the following day, and now am trying to recover.  It is hard to have the remnants of pregnancy to have to heal from and deal with, and not have the baby.  But God is so good friends.  And do you know, if I had to do it all again, I would.  Now, that is not saying that I want another Trisomy baby or anything like that... but if it was between having Gabe in my life or not, I would definitely choose to carry him all over again.  I am amazed at how God used a little boy who didn't speak a word or even open his eyes to change me and Joe and all who heard about our situation and in the process, to reveal Himself to us.

Be patient with me.  This whole time has been filled with some good days, some bad, and that is still the case.  Don't be offended if I don't read your site right now or don't comment... I will eventually.  But in this healing process, I need to protect myself too, and for whatever reason, there was a large group of us in the blog world who were all pregnant at the same time, and that is just too hard to deal with right now, though I wish you all nothing but the best.  And my own posting about how all the events unfolded may be rather slow... as my body mends and my head clears I will try and get back into the swing of things.  I know it will come.