This has been floating around Pinterest for a while, and three of the people I follow have pinned it.
Each time I have seen it, my stomach has flipped.
Its sentiment is sweet, there is no denying that. Who doesn't want to be that old married couple? But, for someone who has been divorced, it's beyond flippant. To think that my first marriage, so painfully fought for, was "thrown away" causes a sting.
For people going through divorce now, this only serves to stigmatize them more. I have a friend facing divorce, and she's too afraid to tell people because she will be judged. She looks at the struggle she's going through as leading to a failure. Instead of sharing her pain, being prayed for and one day healed, she is hiding her shame. She is feeling so alone and so secretive at time when she needs love more than any other.
Like the teeny weeny pictures I web-borrowed for this post? I'm trying to conserve space. Get it? A green post and I'm conserving? Okay, so that's not funny. I can accept that.
When Vicki's mom was going through some of her things she found The Green Book (be green, buy it used), and she gave it to me. She didn't know why Vicki had it, but I wound up with it. I had flipped through it some before this week, but this week I read it cover to cover. Okay, I did skip the parts about sports equipment and the articles by celebs. Seriously, did I need to know Jennifer Aniston takes only a three minute shower or that Owen Wilson made lame excuses for driving a Prius? (Skimmed those, just to make my point here.)
Anyway, I did like the overall style of the book, it's more of a reference book. The authors peppered it with little notes like, "Americans spend seven times more money per year on beauty products than the federal government spends on education." But, mostly it was a habit breaking, home changing and shopping guide. The authors call them "simple steps."
So, I went green Aurora. Our town has signs strategically placed city wide encouraging residents to "Go Green with Green Power." I looked into it. Switching should save us money AND be better for the environment, so I signed us up. We're also looking into adding more insulation in our attic, we are drape shopping and seeking energy efficient drapes, and we're thinking about going meatless two days a week. (It takes a lot of resources to raise a cow into a meal.) I've also been more diligent about turning off the TV and flipping power switches to off during the day when none of the attached gadgets are in use. Did you know TV's alone are responsible for 10% of your electric bill?
Though I'm not getting too much of my spring break list accomplished, I still feel like I got something important done.
I was walking through the school LRC last week, something I do about eight times each day, and I spied this book:
If the World Were a Village
by David J. Smith
I've heard many of the statistics shared in this book in the past, but I loved the idea of them all in one book, a book for kids. So I checked it out and...brought it home! (Where there are no kids.) I've read through it twice, and I want to read it with my kids, but I best study it a while longer. I have to figure out the best way to use it.
The concept of the book? Thinking of all the people (seven billion) in the world is too hard, so let's narrow it down to a village of 100. Then the stats are easier to handle, but they remain striking nonetheless.
What got me the most? Hard to say. I think it will change each time I read it. As of the last reading this one hit me pretty hard, "There is no shortage of food in the global village. If all the food were divided equally, everyone would have enough to eat..." However, "60 people are always hungry, and 26 of these are severely undernourished. 16 people go to bed hungry at least some of the time. Only 24 people always have enough to eat."
In Genesis, 2:15, God places Adam in the garden of Eden and tells him, this man, to take care of it. That's a directive for all us. We are meant to be stewards of our home.
If you were to click on my blog label, "a wee bit o' greening," you would see that I work at doing small things to makes a change in the world. I'm still using my metal razor, my cloth napkins (about 90% of the time), my white washcloths, my reusable shopping bags...but I understand I have much more I could be doing.
(A gift from Anna, a student)
So this past weekend, I started--with Brad's agreement and help--a compost bin! I am so excited! I followed the directions I found here, and I did my own thing to adapt it to our budget and use.
First, we went to Lowe's where for under nine dollars (including tax) we found a green (blends in with our house and bushes) bin made of 90% recycled plastic. Our mistake, as we started the next step we realized the lid was VERY hard to open. Before buying a bin, you may want to test it out since the idea is to open and close it frequently.
Next, Brad drilled holes in the lid to allow air and rain water in. He also drilled holes, not as many, in the bottom to allow water out.
The next step was the easiest, I added a few inches of shredded paper. Brad shreds all mail and old office documents, and then he recycles the paper, so I hit his home office for this fill.
Seeing that it's summer and the heart of the growing season, this next one was tough--I had to have a layer of "browns," or dead stuff. Had a hard time finding them, as you can see. They didn't quite fill...
As they say, easy-peasy, next went the greens. Weeds, leaves, grass. We have an empty lot across the street, and it's fringed with plenty of easy-to-pull-because-it-just-rained green weeds. Sweet corn husks went in as greens too.
To make it pretty, it was time for table/kitchen scraps. Two tea bags, corn hulls (cut up), and a paper napkin. I added two wilting carnations for a garnish.
Now, on the site I used as a guide, worms were not used. After my classroom worm experiment, I had to! So I added some WalMart bait fridge night crawlers. I've heard red wigglers are best, but they didn't have those in the fridge. I dumped in the worms and added their "compostable" cups--after tearing them up. Here are the worms in close up:
Ready to go! We'll keep adding scraps: egg shells, strawberry stems, coffee grounds, old lettuce...no dairy and no meat scraps. They don't compost at all quickly and they attract critters. I carried the bin to the patio, and I placed it on two bricks to allow it to breathe and leak (we plan on hosing off the leakage so it doesn't mar the patio.)
It smells, but only when we open it to put more in.
In a few weeks, we'll turn it. In winter we may move it to the garage. (Do worms freeze? Further research needed.) And perhaps, a mix of this compost and our clay soil will allow next year's backyard plants to thrive!
On Tuesday, my friend Scott posted a statement of disbelief on facebook. He wrote he couldn't believe his son was finishing first grade. (Yeah, Scott is my age!) Anyway, I commented that all those "sunrise, sunset" sentiments, all that blink-of-an-eye stuff or whatever cliche you want to assign is so true. How can you savor something that's impossible to grab onto?
That same afternoon, my nephew Luke was drafted by the New York Mets in the MLB draft. He's a talented and respectful young man, and his parents and family are proud of him. He finds out late this week where he will be assigned (within their farm system). I am so eager for Luke to do this, to work toward his life's goal for it is his passion. He told me over the weekend that he feels most at home on a ball field.
That same evening, I sat on the couch perusing my Baton Rouge visitor's guide. My son Mac will be moving there in August to pursue a master's degree in library and information science (I think that's the title) at Louisiana State University. We, his dad, Brad and I are so happy and proud of him. I'm so eager for Mac to do this, to work toward his life's goal for it is his passion. Mac has always had an affinity for libraries and research.
There is such joy in the men they continue to become. And yes, I look at both of them, and wonder just when this all happened. I remember thousands of moments of their childhood and their rare and valuable play time together, and have to close my eyes to realize how long ago it all really was. Because I swear, I just blinked for a second.
In the last few years, my extended family dynamic has changed. One might suppose it's risky to write about such things on the Internet, but no worries really--no one in my family reads my blog. And that's a huge part of this change. For years, my family conveyed to me that this--writing--was my gift. So I started this blog two summers ago to share written news and quick photos of my life, keeping them in mind as my audience (we're sort of scattered around Illinois); thinking since I'm curious about their lives they might feel the same about mine. Wrong. More used-to-be-strangers-who-are-now-friends read the stuff I write here. My family doesn't visit my blog even occasionally.
But this dent goes beyond blogging, and it reaches into family events. My want to feel included--to know and to be known by those I grew up with--has turned to ambivalence. And the "whatever" feeling that results is shocking in its comfortableness.
I think I'm allowing them to fall away.
On Easter, we invited over whoever could come for a luncheon. A couple of sibs took us up on it. We sat and chatted after a shared-prepared lunch, and I pulled out my knitting to show something new I had discovered. I found myself incredibly stung by my siblings' comments. Knitting is new to me and my skills are still elementary, but I can't help but feel proud of learning something that once seemed so foreign. Good natured family teasing is what we've always done, but this started to hurt, I said so, yet it continued.
I cried. I had to leave the room. I ran into Mac upstairs and laughingly explained what had happened, but he knew it hurt me.
In marrying Brad, I gained another branch of family tree. He has adult children and they all have children, and I thought with us living a state away, reading about our little doings and some thoughts that cross my mind would be a simple way for them to get to know me a bit. Some said they were too busy to read my posts. Regardless, none of them ever visit this site any longer, because when they did they assumed I had some hidden agenda, so I've been the recipient of their accusations because of simple things I've expressed here.
In effort to get to know them and to be able to remind Brad to check out news and photos of his little ones, I used to read the blogs his daughter and daughters-in-law have created. But there was no reciprocity. I'm into keeping score only in terms of what's reasonably fair, and eventually I felt somewhat bruised and opted out of regularly checking for new posts. Now because I have stepped away for so long, if I hit a blog, I feel like I'm reading about strangers.
This is freeing, but also very, very sad.
The biggest epiphany I've had lately is two-fold. First, Brad and Mac are my family. I love my siblings, but I don't know that they like me, and that's okay. We have grown apart since our parents have died. Brad's kids have wonderful family surrounding them, and a step-mom isn't a need. That makes sense. Second, my friends are truly available to me when I need them. I could not get through my days and life's trials without the people I work with and have attended church with. Also, I recognize they are whom I laugh with. (I laugh a lot, and I'm a funny person. How do I know? My friend Brenda jokes, "You're one of the funniest people I know, and I know a lot of people.")
My family and Brad's family are made up of truly good and loving people who lead blessed and busy lives. I understand it's okay if I'm not a part of them. I continue to pray for them and wish them well daily. And daily, any holes I feel are being filled in as I recognize and value all that is rich around me. I will admit I believe I am in mourning as I go through these changes or recognize what never will be, but the ache is gone and now the grief only occurs in twinges. As I live, I listen to God, and should He direct me toward repair, there I will go.
Discovered over spring break and used almost daily since, the book holder on our treadmill.
Who knew?
I'm loving it though! Hope my legs thank me in about six weeks. Oh, yeah, and my mind too. I'm becoming somewhat well-read again. (Emphasis on the "somewhat!")
Confession though, after much treadmill use and eating healthier and fewer calories for the last week, I have not lost an ounce of the unwanted six pounds. Brad, my biggest cheerleader, keeps telling me to stop dieting and focus on eating healthy. He is a good voice in my head. We'll see if I listen...
Yes, this post couldn't any more further belie the title of this blog. The Art of Losing Myself refers to my giving myself to the Lord--full on. More of Him, less of me. My daily struggle.
But I'm writing a post about my weight, so in this case, and this is so lame, the losing myself is small case worthy. Losing some of myself. It used to be a daily obsession, but I have grown more healthy of late.
I have always been a slender person. Sometimes, I have been more slender than is healthy. My friend Steve once asked me if I had a fun house mirror in my head because I see myself more differently than others do. There have been times in my life when I haven't felt I could control anything, so I would control my weight. Now I have Jesus in my life, and I get that there is no such thing as control, and I do love myself more. However, I still don't know how to lose weight in a healthy way.
Yes, I do understand that most people would think I don't need to lose weight at all. Yes, I understand that this is really not a problem compared to what many folks are facing--weight wise and health wise.
If I list the things about my body that bug me, my husband will get upset (he likes me the way I am) and it will seem like I'm fishing for compliments or reassurance. So I won't do that. But I will tell you why I want to lose six pounds. That's it, just six.
One month from today, my son is graduating from college. I am delighted at the prospect of attending a boring commencement ceremony (I didn't "walk" at my master's graduation, 'cause I'm just usually not into ceremony). His degree has been hard fought and hard won, and I am simply proud of my son for enduring the things he has. Many pictures will be taken. No biggie, I know how to crop out the things I don't like. We have a neat mixed bag of guests using Mac's "up to 10" tickets. Mac's dad's longtime girlfriend will be there. In all these years I haven't ever seen her or a picture of her. Can you say, "So not curious?" (His dad and I are divorced, and it seems only right to let him live his life, I only wish the best for him--he is my son's father.) What is niggling at me (in a "lose some poundage" way) is the idea of seeing my former, couldn't have been more distant, sis-in-law. For her, I want to be slim.
Hm. Go figure. (Pun intended.)
Another reason, and you may get this, is the six lbs. are mostly SITTING in one place, and there are clothes I'd like to wear should it ever when it gets warmer around here aka July. Brad talks of hearing me sigh in the closet in the morning when yet another pair of pants doesn't fit. Don't we all have a one place? Different for each of us, but still it settles there.
Also, I need a new pair or two of jeans. Jeans shopping? Enough said.
In June, a while off I know, I am going on a mission trip with a high school group from what I'll call my "interim" church (another story for another time). While we have to wear pants for most of the trip, and my jeans that need to be replaced will be perfect for this rough trip, I don't want to frighten kids with a, "This is what almost fifty year old legs look like," on the one day shorts are allowed (on our canoe/baptism trip outing.) Yes I get that this is NOT what the trip is about, but I am trying to protect America's youth.
So call me Shallow El. I can deal. Encourage me, and I will lap it up like chocolate Slim Fast.
Seventeen thousand educators in Illinois have been pink slipped. It's simply awful. So I, along with much of my district staff, will be wearing pink on Friday, March 19th as a show of support.
If you live in Illinois, you've been hearing a lot of news about Governor Quinn trying to raise taxes for education; if more taxes aren't levied, there "will be massive cuts." Well the State already owes every district millions of dollars. The massive cuts are already taking place. It's hard to fathom more cuts.
I'm proud of The Batavia Education Association, our union. Earlier this month we voted to make a financial sacrifice to keep all our teachers employed. That will work for this coming school year, but what about the next?
We do not know.
This is not only an issue for Illinois. Friends across the nation are reporting the same for the schools in their states.
Many people think teaching is a cush job, too often I hear "nine months of work for twelve months pay" or that teachers are the second income for their households. I work in my classroom for eleven months of the year. I tutor to earn extra income twelve months a year. I take classes in the summer. During the school year I come home exhausted because I love my job, and I put my all into it. Truthfully, I have peers who work even harder than I do. Their "all" is amazing--seemingly ten times the size of mine. I am in awe of the people I work side-by-side with. Many are the breadwinners for their families.
We say as a nation we value education and we value teachers, but in truth do we?
Do you?
I see posts on facebook and various blogs about the health care debate, but it's rare I see anyone post a concern about education.
From it, I learned that polystyrene (you may know it as Styrofoam) never decays. That's a concern because much of it isn't recycled. But I felt personally okay about it because I DO recycle my #6 clamshell containers, cups, and meat trays.
Then I did some quick research and pretty much concluded that the #6's I've been faithfully "recycling" get weeded out of our recyclables at the local sorting facility. You see it's not easily recycled so we're not even supposed to put it in our curbside bins.
Over lunch yesterday, I Googled a bit only to learn not only doesn't it EVER decay, it also gives out toxins whilst in landfills, if it finds it's way to water it lets go of them too, and it emits poisonous fumes when burned/incinerated. Evil stuff.
I researched further and learned there is a local facility that does accept it for recycling. Brad and I talked over breakfast today and decided we would sort out our #6's to bring to this facility. But we've also decided to reduce our use of it. Though we avoid places like Sonic and Portillo's because of their packaging, we realized that all of our meat comes on trays that are #6.
So what else can we do? Well, we're going to start writing letters to those establishments and to our lawmakers requesting a legislative reduction in use of polystyrene. We're going to start bringing our own "doggie bags" (I know, not bags at all) when we go out to eat. Tonight I'm making my way to Whole Foods to see how their meat is packaged, and if it's "#6less", I'm going to change my shopping habits.
Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but learning causes change, and that's a blessing.
Let it be said, I love kids' books. My favorite memories from Mac's childhood are of us reading together. I love read aloud time with my kids (and I think they like it too). My children's literature classes were my favorites, and more work than I ever imagined. I would work in a kids' bookstore or back in a library if I had the time.
So, when my bloggy friend Agnes asked me how to get kids into reading versus watching TV, I volunteered to become her daughter's "Book Fairy." Every random once in a while, I send her daughter Ash and her little sis Court, a book or two. Court's a little too, well, little to quite get it. But Ashley really does call me the Book Fairy. See?
When Brad and I realized we had to cut back on the already thrifty gifts he was getting his grandkids, I offered to be on the look-out for good books for them. He was fine with the idea, and I had fun with this idea. In November we started collecting books. When he went at Christmastime to visit, he was tickled to see the kids' enthusiasm for books. He told me Abby started reading right away, and as the day they shared went on, he caught her reading to her sibs and cousins too. To be fair, Carter threw his books, but he's two, so that's okay.
Brad came home and stated, "From now on, I'm giving them books!" I was so pleased he was pleased and they were pleased. I was secretly extra pleased 'cause now I get to shop more for kiddie lit! And where do I shop?
Book orders! Do you remember these? Little newspaper-thicknesses of book goodness. I love them.
Brad sent books for Valentine's Day...holiday books, early reader books, a funny manners book, a Peyton Manning book (that one was more for Carter's dad than Carter at this point), and a board book for his littlest one. And now I am ordering here and there, I keep this box in my closet to use as a book file, and I can't wait to send the next round. Birthdays start up in March!
I just placed an order two days ago (Madeline for one dollar! Henry and Mudge, classic readers!), and this flyer came today, so now I have to order a few more. Ashley in CA, and Abby and Evie in IN are getting this Fancy Nancy. She's teaching kids about my favorite subject...
Books are great for reusing--like time with a good friend kids spend time with the same ones again and again. Books are great for recycling, pass them down, pass them around, pass them on. I readily confess, I am obsessed. So I fairy on...
A few days ago, one of my friends on facebook posted this in her notes. It randomly showed up on my wall, and I wrote to this wise high school girl and told her how much I learned from it. "A woman who has been transformed by the selfless love of Christ is not easily angered. She does not fly off the handle. She is not a slave to tumultuous emotions. She is not concerned with protecting her right to be treated a certain way. She is far more interested in the eternal souls of those around her than her own feelings. As women, we've often been trained to believe that we are slaves to our emotions; that we can't help it when our feelings overcome us; controlling what we say and how we act. But contrary to popular belief, our outbursts of anger, tears of self-pity, overwhelming feelings of hurt, even hormonal ups and downs, can be conquered by God's Spirit overtaking our inner being. His love and life is far more powerful than our most intense emotions. And we are not to be controlled by anything but His Spirit." --Leslie Ludy
The same day, one of my women friends posted the following as her status on facebook. It was one of those copy and paste dare statuses. "I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best." --Marilyn Monroe
The fact that these two contradictory posts appeared on my feed the same day intrigued me. I probably wouldn't have remembered them had they not. One struck me in such a positive way, and one simply made me think--but not about goodness.
I have a sense of humor. I'm an advocate for women, though I don't necessarily peg myself as a feminist. But, I am disturbed by the need for women to celebrate themselves as divas, bitches, or as being high-maintenance. I can't think of any less empowering monikers, yet women use them proudly.
I do not fit the first womanly description, but I'd like to one day. Such freedom, it's something to strive for, to pray for. I certainly don't fit Marilyn's description, and it's something to avoid. Being handled? It sounds like allowing a man to manipulate me. When I commented similarly on the facebook post, another one of her friends who does not know me told me to "lighten up." I had to laugh. If anything, getting to know God has done just that to me, lightened me up. I'm more forgiving, more focused, more able to give up control, blessed with perspective, and able to give up hurts more quickly (not immediately, I am after all a work in progress) than I was before.
I am willful, but it's a different will I bend to now.
