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.