RevGalBlogPals Friday Five

Questions from the RevGalBlogPals website.......

Festive Foods Friday Five

1. Favorite cookie/candy/baked good without which, it's just not Christmas.

Let's do all three for good measure.
Cookie: homemade with the recipe from my childhood neighbor Taffy. It takes all day, but it's worth it.
Candy: chocolate, anything chocolate. Lately it's been dark chocolate.
Baked good: Pumpkin gingerbread, yum.
Bonus Christmas breakfast food: Little Smokies.....

2. Do you do a fancy dinner on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, both, or neither? (Optional: with whom will you gather around the table this year?)

With two churches between us, and three services this year, there is no fancy eating. A pick-up Christmas buffet sometime on the 25th is becoming a family tradition, though. This year it will be just the four of us, all day on the 25th. I am so looking forward to going nowhere.

3. Evaluate one or more of the holiday beverage trifecta: hot chocolate, wassail, egg nog.

No wassail for me, but the other two are good.

4. Candy canes: do you like all the new-fangled flavors or are you a peppermint purist?

There are new flavors? Where have I been?

5. Have you ever actually had figgy pudding? And is it really so good that people will refuse to leave until they are served it?

Never had it, unless I ate some the semester I spent in England. But there was a fair amount of lager consumed then so I might not remember.....

Edited to add: Well, I am APPALLED with myself that I forgot to include a question about the crown prince of holiday foods--the fruitcake. Feel free to add your thoughts on this most polarizing holiday confection.

Not for me. Don't like the gummy fruit things. Mr. Incredible has been eating some made by a parishioner this week, though, and I think he said the ingredients for it cost about $70.

I am thankful for carpet cleaning machines.

There is nothing like family sharing to create lasting holiday memories. I spent the week in the mountains with my whole extended family. There were 18 of us in two houses, with 8 kids ranging in age from 9 months to 13 years old. There was food: a honeybaked ham, a smoked turkey, all the usual Thanksgiving stuff and stuffing. There were hikes to waterfalls and up rocky places. There were outdoor fires and roasted marshmallows. There were chess games and Uno games and naps. Oh, and let us not forget the ultimate in family sharing: a stomach bug. Over the course of six days, it felled 8 of us at the house, and another one bit the dust last night.

It began with my own WonderBoy, whose illness came up suddenly and just as quickly disappeared after he made an impressive projectile display on the carpet of the rental house. He was proud, and bounded up the stairs to report to his cousins with a big grin and restored energy. Mr. Incredible went and rented a carpet cleaner, which came in handy. After WonderBoy, the next to fall was the oldest nephew (more carpet, but also, memorably, on top of a mountain). He was followed by my mom, my youngest sister, third youngest niece, second youngest sister, oldest niece, and last night back at home, SuperGirl, who is skipping school and resting. She is sorry to have missed getting her share of attention from all the relatives, but happy to have her very own Gatorade. It is a quick and dirty virus, and no one seems to have suffered for more than about 24 hours, so I am hopeful the end is in sight.

My mom has her first appointment with the surgeon tomorrow. It will be good to have the beginnings of a plan. Tom Petty said it best: the waiting is the hardest part.

Reasons for Not Writing

There are many, but here are the big ones:

My sister is here from overseas with her husband and two very small kids. Wonderfully chaotic.

My mother was just diagnosed with breast cancer. How can this be? It has been 8 months since my own diagnosis. I am wondering if it helps her having watched and helped me through my diagnosis and surgeries, or if it means it is all too real. Suddenly we have a family history of some significance, and my other three sisters have much to worry about. Not to mention the five granddaughters. I am letting myself off the hook from writing for a little while, both the NaNo novel, and the blog, at least until after I know what the plan is with my mom. I hope to be able to travel to be of some help to her.

I feel responsible somehow.

RevGalBlogPals Friday Five

Those of us who are in the United States have just been through quite a topsy-turvy election. During the campaign we heard a fair amount about red states and blue states, when in fact most of us live in some shade of purple. And so... a lighter look at those confounding colors:

1. Favorite red food - a ripe summer tomato with real mozzarella cheese, basil, and balsamic vinaigrette...yum

2. Tell us about the bluest body of water you've ever seen in person - the water in the Virgin Islands on my honeymoon

3. It's movie rental time: Blue Planet, The Color Purple, or Crimson Tide? - tough one, depending on the mood. I'll go with Crimson Tide most of the time for sheer escapism.

4. What has you seeing red these days? - not having uninterrupted time to work on my NaNo novel, and not using the time I have well.

5. What or who picks you up when you're feeling blue? - my family laughing together, a good book, vacations near water

Happy Friday!

This and That

Random thoughts:

I hate selling things to people. I was never good at the retail jobs I had in high school. It's not in my personality to push something on someone else. So now we have all this Cub Scout popcorn to sell every year. Hate it. It's overpriced and the microwave bags never pop all the way. Okay, the chocolate-covered stuff is pretty good, but I hate selling it. Hate approaching church members, or sending WonderBoy to do it, since there is some weird pressure there to buy from the preacher's kid. But who else will buy it? Church members are all the people we ever see. Last year we bought over $70 worth of it ourselves to get WonderBoy to the $200 level. Then he chose the prize from the lowest level. Have I mentioned that I hate selling things?

There is a new Christopher Guest movie coming out this month: "For Your Consideration". If you haven't seen "A Mighty Wind" or "Waiting for Guffman" or "Best in Show", run out to the video store right now. Can't wait. I laughed out loud tonight when I saw the preview, and I don't even know what it's about. It doesn't matter. You put those actors together and it will be funny.

I think I am about a B-cup after yesterday's saline fill. The shape is coming along, which is helping the muscle pain seem worth it. I can't think too long about what exactly is going on in there, with the muscle stretching, or I get the willies. I have to kind of shut off part of my brain, sort of like when I was diagnosed. Thinking about cancer was overwhelming, and if I did it for too long, I could drive myself wild-eyed and crazy. It's not exactly denial, but a form of coping. Coping with reconstruction beats coping with a new cancer diagnosis all to pieces, so I'll try to stop complaining. For now.

I'm not feeling inspired to write, either the blog or the NaNoWriMo novel. I like what I have so far, but the last few days I have felt sort of flat. (Well, not in the traditional sense, because of the aforementioned B-cups, but you know what I mean.) I'm hoping tomorrow dawns brighter: in election returns, in weather, in muscle comfort, and in writing.

Retreating

I'm off to the mountains to lead a women's retreat. It should be beautiful this time of year, and the material is familiar and something I need reminding of myself. I won't be online over the weekend. I'm hopeful I'll have some time to write, though, and that the Spirit and the Writing Muse are kind. And that Mr. Incredible gets some rest while watching the kids AND writing a sermon.
Peace.....

Trading Candy

WonderBoy and SuperGirl are in the living room, engaged in the time-tested and sanctified ritual of Trading Halloween Candy. Mary Janes are traded for Swedish Fish. Salt-Water Taffy for Bubblicious. Everyone wants the Reese's Cups, including me. I have a very vivid memory of sitting on the rug just inside the front door of the house we grew up in, with my sisters, doing the same thing. We didn't make it but about three steps inside the door before we dumped the loot out and started negotiating. I can't remember all of what I loved back then, but I remember what I didn't like: candy corn and anything sour (hmmm....sounds like SuperGirl.) Actually I am sure that what I wanted back then was still Reese's Cups. When my niece was here this summer on her way home from her first sleepaway camp (at the same camp my sisters and I all went to growing up), I couldn't get her to tell me much of anything about her 3 weeks there. I'm not sure she had a good time. But she was amazed when I said that every night after dinner at camp I bought a Reese's Cup and a Sprite, every year I was there. She had bought the exact same thing, every night, and her eyes lit up to think that someone else understood, maybe just a little, what things were like for her. Our candy choices are one of the things that make us who we are. Thank God there are so many different kinds of candy in the loot bag. I may not understand the licorices of the world, but I am glad they are around to trade with. And thank God there are others who like what we like, and know a little about who we are, even if it means there are fewer Reese's to go around.

NaNoWriMo Day One

Words written: 2274
Chocolate pieces consumed: 3
Loads of laundry done: 1.5

I guess I better stop, since the school bus will be here soon, and my schedule is full for the afternoon and evening. Day One, so far so good!

All Hallow's Eve Checklist

*Fall Festival at church a success - CHECK
I had way more help this year, especially in clean-up. We ran out of hotdogs and had to run to the store for more. There were vistors galore. And I actually got to go on the hayride this year. Many stars on a crisp fall night.

*Halloween costumes for WonderBoy and SuperGirl - CHECK
This is the least amount of money I've ever spent on Halloween costumes. SuperGirl raided her dress-up box and created her own fairy costume. WonderBoy was disappointed at first, but is now cheerfully making do with the extra cheap Darth Vader costume pieces I found in the "missing pieces and on sale" cart at Target, and has borrowed the way-cool sound effects helmet from his friend. I will be wearing my favorite sparkly witch hat, a persona I've decided I've earned this year. Mr. Incredible will wear the blonde (Barbie) wig, his messy pottery apron, and carry one of his handmade bowls. He is "Hairy Potter".

*Caramel apples made - CHECK
I didn't want to do it, when Mr. Incredible suggested it yesterday evening, but it turned out to be a fun family activity. He downloaded some spooky classical music, the kids had a blast conducting and dancing while I stirred caramels, and the apples turned out yummy, with peanuts. I let the kids eat one for breakfast (shhhh)!

*Candy for trick-or-treaters bought - CHECK
Okay, actually I am borrowing the leftover Fall Festival candy, and will reimburse the church, but still. There is something to go in the bowl.

*NaNoWriMo prep - UMMMMM
Coffee supplies are good, but laundry is in a dismal state. And I just remembered that we will have houseguests for 5 days, and then spend another few days in the mountains with lots of family over Thanksgiving. What am I thinking??

RevGalBlogPals Friday Five

1. Do you enjoy a good fright?

Not really. I've had enough in real life lately!

2. Scariest movie you've ever seen

I avoid them, but I'm thinking it must be one of those really old ones like The Exorcist, or Halloween. Or anything on TV late at night when my husband is out of town.

3. Bobbing for apples: choose one and discuss:
a) Nothing scary about that! Good wholesome fun.
b) Are you *kidding* me?!? The germs, the germs!

Germs! Germs! Noooooo! I do remember the thrill of bobbing for apples at a boy-girl party in third grade, though, with a redhaired boy named Patrick. Good times.

4. Real-life phobia

See # 3 (germs). I'm working on it though.

5. Favorite "ghost story"

I'm partial to a book my kids like, with several different stories in it, especially the one about the girl with the green ribbon around her neck. A boy falls in love with her, but she will never tell him why she wears the ribbon around her neck. They marry and grow old together (this is why I like it), and she still won't tell him why she always wears the green ribbon around her neck. When they are very old, and she is on her deathbed, she finally tells him he can take the ribbon off. And her head falls off. We love that one.

NaNoWriMo 2006....five days to go.

I spent my hour while SuperGirl was at dance class today at Starbucks, making notes. I think I'm going to try again. This will be my second attempt at National Novel Writing Month (see www.nanowrimo.org). It's an amazing idea: write a 50,000 word novel in a month, from November 1st-30th. People all over the US (maybe beyond) do this. Some do it year after year. The goal is to finish, not necessarily to write the next Great American Novel. It is assumed that the first draft will be a piece of *#@*, and much revision will be needed. I stumbled upon the idea last year about a week before the month began, and started out strong. I wrote about 6200 words, and then....we went to Disney World. It was hopeless after that. I just went back and reread what I wrote last year, and I actually like it, even though it is transparently autobiographical. Almost painfully so. Someday I'll pick that novel up again.

This year I have a new plot, new characters, and several pages of notes. I don't know if this will help me or not. Why am I doing this, when I have plenty of other things to do during November....like....ummmm.....work? Laundry? Legos? Barbie? Talk to Mr. Incredible? Blog? Maybe because I have a secret desire to be a successful novelist, and I guess actually writing a novel is the only way to get there. I'm not sure I would actually get started without the construct of NaNoWriMo. Like I've said before, I am, essentially, lazy. I think I read today that to reach 50,000 words, I will need to write about 1667 words per day. I guess I need to get caught up with the laundry before next week.....

Preschoolers, Sand and God

I told the story of God giving the Ten Commandments to Moses in the desert this morning to 3 classes of preschoolers. The Godly Play method of bible storytelling uses a "desert box", a big rolling box of sand, to tell that, and many other Old Testament stories. That's right, a big box of sand, and preschoolers. I thought it was a good idea at the time. I am new at Godly Play, and new to most of these kids, and the combination of newness, their ages, my last-minute preparation, and oh, did I mention the sand? could have made for disaster. But God was present, like in the desert. Many requests from me for little hands to keep out of the sand during the story. Much delight when each child got to move a figure through the desert. Many of those figures went on ahead up Mt. Sinai to see the smoke and fire and talk to God. Many danced in the circle with Miriam. Most all of us agreed that God must love us to keep us safe in the desert. And did you know that Spiderman and princesses were in the desert with the people of God? Now you know.

Notes for next time:

1. Ask them to raise their hands before talking.
2. Let everyone touch the sand in the desert box early on....they just can't wait until the end.
3. Finish up sooner, and let the older ones draw an art response afterwards.
4. Find the hand vacuum.

Where's the ice cream?

Why is there no ice cream in the house? And what kind should we get? Chubby Hubby? Peanut butter cup? Mint chocolate chip? Straight up Breyer's vanilla? Someone could make a lot of money with a nighttime ice cream delivery service. File that one away for a business idea if we leave the ministry. Of course, then we'd be too busy delivering ice cream to sit at home and eat it, so never mind.

Muscle relaxers

I go for my second fill of saline in a little while. Maybe I'll move from an under-A-cup to an A. My mom said I looked sort of like I was 13. I think she has me confused with one of my sisters. I was the late bloomer. I look more like I did when I was about 16, I think. Except for the stretch marks from being pregnant and nursing. Wouldn't you think the plastic surgeon could get rid of those somehow??

Over the weekend I thought of so many things to write about that I didn't do any of them. I read two chick-lit stupid books instead. Brain candy books. I have sworn off make-over shows for awhile. They only make me think I need to get my teeth bleached, my hair colored, and my tummy liposuctioned. Of course the chick-lit books make me think I need to go out and buy Dolce and Gabbana clothes and Manalo Blahnik shoes, but I don't even know what those would look like, much less where to get them around here. So maybe I should lay off the chick-lit books too.

My sermon went pretty well, I guess. How do you ever know? It felt good to be back in the pulpit, but honestly, right now I would be happy just to be a Sunday School teacher, and maybe sometimes read Scripture in the service. Carrying the whole service yesterday was exhausting. Maybe it's all the surgery. Maybe I'm out of practice. Maybe I'm just not feeling very called right now....? Maybe the muscle relaxer I took this morning has affected my call. Does being called into ministry involve muscle? If so, which ones? The heart, surely. Maybe the back muscles, for shouldering all the burdens of others. The arm muscles for holding babies, moving chairs, carrying books, and locking up the heavy sanctuary doors when no one else does. Whatever muscles are involved in guilt because I didn't call who I said I would call over the weekend. Leg muscles for standing in the pulpit, walking in the CROP Walk, and walking up and down the stairs to my office.....arguably the hardest thing for me right now, especially with a laptop.

If I could figure out how to enable comments on the blog I would invite anyone else in minstry to share what muscles they thought were involved in a call. But I haven't figured it out yet. And I don't think anyone has read this blog. Maybe because I haven't given the address to anyone I know! Except my husband. Or did I dream that? It's the Ambien, I can't remember. Mr. Incredible, if you are reading this, let me know.....

Love/Hate and the Pink Ribbon

I'm sick of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Really. Breast cancer on Grey's Anatomy, a Pink Ribbon BAGEL at Panera, all the magazines with their articles, and pink toasters, pink vacuums and pink Sun Chips bags. Enough awareness. Let's spend the marketing money on research and kick some cancer butt already.

I wear my pink rubber bracelet on days when I need it. It has words on it: Courage, Faith, Strength, and Hope. Some days I need to be reminded of those feelings. I drive my van with the pink ribbon magnet on the back, but I'm not sure I like doing it. A friend and I agreed that, as breast cancer survivors, we have a love/hate relationship with the pink ribbon. I don't always want to be reminded of it, even though I can think about little else during this part of reconstruction. I don't want to be defined by breast cancer. I don't want everyone to always know. But on the other hand, I want everyone to know. I AM defined by breast cancer, at least in part, at least right now. And my friend said that if her pink ribbon magnet encouraged only one woman somewhere, especially a young woman, to go get her mammogram, then it is worth having on the car.

My mammogram probably saved my life. Maybe I'll keep the pink ribbon on my van a little while longer.

An Intro

I think I've figured out how to get my first name off the blog, so I can exist in a little bubble of internet anonymity, so I'll just call myself Queen Mum. I'm living in the not-too-deep South. A Presbyterian pastor married to a Methodist pastor (let's call him Mr. Incredible), raising Lutheran kids. (Our standard joke.....) Actually they split up with us on Sundays, an unfortunate but necessary parting of the family ways. They are WonderBoy (9) and SuperGirl (6). We all gather back at the Methodist parsonage after worship and collapse until meetings later in the day.

I'm serving a very old country-going-suburban church as a part time Parish Associate. Mostly Education, some preaching and random other duties. I've been on sort of on-again off-again sick leave this year since I was diagnosed with breast cancer in March. My very first mammogram!! Thank God for modern medicine and all that, but holy crap, my first mammogram?! Four surgeries later I find myself about to preach my first sermon in a long time on Sunday....I'm thinking Zaccheus. I just can't do Job from the lectionary yet. Have done it in the past, and it was a kick-ass sermon, if I do say so myself, but can't do it yet this go 'round. Still feel like I'm sitting on the ash heap, some days. So I'm messing around with this new blog instead of writing the sermon.

I am a lousy housekeeper, and have learned to embrace it. I love reading, mostly contemporary fiction, an occasional mystery, essays and memoirs. Love movies, especially going to the theater all by myself and crying in the dark with my very own popcorn, but how often does THAT happen? DVDs do otherwise. I wish I could knit better. I wish I were a novelist. I have considered going to library school. Someday I'll exercise more. I can't decide what size boobs to end up with when reconstruction is done....I am an INFP. I have realized this year that I actually have more friends than I thought I did, but none of them live near enough to go grab a cup of coffee. I hate forwarded emails, especially the ones that tell you to send the thing to 10 friends if you love them or Jesus or else you must not REALLY love them. Who needs more guilt like that in your inbox?

Emails I look forward to:
* The Daily Lectionary, even though I have only been reading the first Psalm all year.
* Anything from my sisters (rare, but sometimes include pictures of nieces and nephews)
* Anything from my college friends (who have been group emailing for about 10 years, is that possible?)
* Writings from other women in my writing group, all mothers who have lost children. We get together twice a year and drink wine, eat food, write and cry and laugh. Laugh a lot. No one believes that, but we do.
* A Seminary friend's annual Hoops Pool, which I have won more often than anyone else, because I always pick Duke to win it all, and sometimes they do. Maybe this year. Hope springs eternal.

A Conversation with Supergirl

Conversation today with SuperGirl (who just turned 6):

SG: Mom, when I was four I didn't think that I loved God. But when I turned five I figured out what I didn't know when I was only four, and that is that I really do, deep inside, love God. I just didn't know it when I was four.

Me: I guess that's how love works. Sometimes you feel it and sometimes you don't.

SG: Yep. (dancing around)

Me: You know what else? God always loves us even when we don't think we love God.

SG: I know that Mom. I know everything.

Me: You're pretty smart.

SG: Well, I don't know what makes paint, but I do know a lot of other things.

Well, here goes.....

I've been working over the idea of starting a blog for a few months. I have friends who have them, and I browse the blogs of strangers from time to time. I'm essentially a private person, so the idea of baring my soul publicly is frightening. But I'm learning that writing is one way I work out my inside "stuff". I'm lousy at keeping a journal, and I think it is partly because I hate my handwriting. And also because I am very lazy. I've started and stalled out at numerous attempts to chronicle my thoughts on paper, in nicely bound books, some with inspirational sayings, even. But I can never get in a groove with keeping a hand-written journal. I am online most every day, though. And words come more easily at a keyboard for me. And maybe a blog will keep me motivated to write. Which would be good for me, because there's some stuff I want to work out in my head. If it doesn't help I'll delete it, and at least I won't have another abandoned journal on the shelf mocking me. Starting the blog is free, which is cheaper than both therapy and chocolate, both of which I probably still need. Certainly the chocolate.

Here's what's up with me today: I am in the process of breast reconstruction after bilateral mastectomies in June. The breast cancer was found early, before it had spread beyond my breast (the left one). But it was aggressive and scary, so I took an aggressive surgical route. No chemo or radiation, and I'm grateful for that. Reconstruction is bizarre, and I'll write more about that later. Right now I am battle-scarred and sore and cranky. And dizzy from the meds. Things could be better, but they could be a whole lot worse, too. Keeping that in mind is something I hope to do more of, as I write.