A Pensive Evening

Ahh, a moment to myself. The kids went to band practice with their dad, so I am here all alone and wondering exactly how I should savor this moment. I love my kids dearly, but since becoming a mom, it's amazing how little time I have spent without another body within 10 feet-usually less.

I used to have lots of alone time. I used to spend hours alone everyday. As a kid and teenager, I would walk to an abandoned park down the street from my house with my walkman and tackle box full of tapes daily (think small town-no crime). I would listen to music for hours, just sitting on a swing imagining stories in my head. Many times I watched the sun go down and many times, much to my mother's chagrin, I would go out hours after dark. While most kids were sneaking out to drink and smoke, I was sneaking out to listen to music and dream. I think I went through at least 7 walkmen and had a collection of about 50 tapes, mostly movie soundtracks, that were covered in a fine film of dirt. That's what happens when you expose them to the elements, I suppose, but that was just wear and tear as far as I was concerned. Who knows how many "novels" and poems I wrote down there. I even thought about naming my first child after that park, although I am sure Hallie will one day feel quite relieved she doesn't bear the name "Meadowbrook". I know, it sounds kind of crazy and I am sure I looked sort of crazy. There I was everyday, that strange girl that swings by herself at the park. I think I became sort of a public monument to southern eccentricity, but I didn't care. I have always felt older than my years and I guess that even as a teenager, I knew being different wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It wasn't just that I had OCD, although I am sure it's all connected. It wasn't just that I had a job from the age of 12. It was how I got goose bumps from songs that spoke to me. It was how the sight of an old wooden bridge made me weep. It was the lump in my throat every time I heard church bells or wind chimes. It was how I read the last page of "These Happy Golden Years" over and over and circled the tearstains in the margin. Mostly, it was my depth of feeling and desire to always feel more...to go beyond where most people said was enough. I didn't just want a casual relationship with the world or with myself in it. I felt things deeply, believed things passionately, and placed great value on the power of imagination and the human soul. The ability to create was paramount to me. If you didn't create things in some way...writing, music, art, etc...then I would find you rather boring. I had no use for any discipline that didn't have a little room for interpretation or originality.

Well, what am I getting at here? I suppose I am just reminiscing about who I was and realizing who I have become. Fundamentally, not much has changed. I still get the goosebumps. I still reread all my favorite novels several times a year. I still devour history. Weeping Willows and church bells still affect me. I still believe deeply in creativity and imagination. I still think the written word and music are man's greatest gifts to ourselves. I'm still "different", although I don't think about it quite so much. Why? Well, mostly because I am pushing the swing instead of sitting in it and although it's a move of only a few feet, the view has changed. I keep getting "distracted" by these two precious kids (often 3,4 or 5) that keep hovering around me, demanding my attention. Yes, I like my alone time...every now and then. But nothing compares to what I have. It's a charmed life, indeed.

Man's Best Friend...

I can't believe I bought bottled water for a hermit crab. Yes, that is correct. That and about ten other things hermit crabs apparently can't live without. Like a piece of tree bark. Yes, I paid four dollars for a piece of tree bark. Why, you may ask, didn't I just go pick up a piece of tree bark outside? Well, this one was shaped like a tunnel. Don't you know that hermit crabs really need their privacy? Come on, the fact that they never come out of the shell on their back doesn't count. Oh, and I had to splurge and get the calcified sand because the sand I buy for my children isn't good enough. No, hermit crabs need special sand...special sand that costs ten dollars a pound. I also learned today that they need a wall in their "habitat" to climb in order to get enough exercise. Apparently sitting in one spot with your head in expensive sand isn't enough activity. And did you know that hermit crabs need treats? Not just regular food, but treats. I am just waiting for him to roll over, sit up, and play dead on command. Oh, wait a minute, he plays dead all the time! How many pieces of dried fruit does he get for that?

But, wait a minute... maybe Hermie is so sedate because I didn't buy the six dollar sea salt soaking solution. That must be it! Ah, the pang of regret. Sleep will elude me tonight for sure. :o)

Politics and Mel

Wow..lots of crazy stuff going on in the world today. The fighting between Israel and the Hezbollah has really gotten me thinking about the end times. I know, I know...every time a major conflict occurs people start saying "this is it". I'm not jumping on that bandwagon. I just can't help but reflect on the books of Daniel and Revelation when I see what I'm seeing on the news. Frankly, it saddens me because I know that when we do get to the end, it's going to get a lot worse before it gets any better. As a Christian, I know I have nothing to fear for myself, but the eventual fate of the world distresses me greatly. I can't help but feel that the media isn't helping matters. They just keep reporting the same story over and over again...showing the same footage over and over again, just as the terrorists want them to do. Somehow the acts of the terrorists themselves get lost in the world's outrage at the usual suspects...the US and Israel. Forget how many missiles Hezbollah has fired into Israeli villages. Forget the horrible lack of respect for humanity these groups have shown in the past throughout the world. For some strange reason, the world just keeps giving these people the benefit of the doubt. The UN just passes ridiculous resolutions that they never intend to enforce and countries everywhere condemn the actions of a nation forced into fighting for self preservation. I don't like violence. I hate the thought of innocent people being killed no matter where they live. I'm not going to stand here and debate who has the right to do what and who has gone too far. I will say, though, that it distresses me that people just don't think anything is worth fighting for any more. Life, liberty, justice...they're all good when you have them handed to you. When someone else did all the fighting 50 or 200 years ago. When you don't have to take a stand and risk the wrath or condemnation of the world. When you can be PC and eat your white bread and apple pie and talk about peace with your mouth full. It's a whole different matter, however, when its you, your countrymen and a great big world that thinks you have no right to exist. Think about it.

Oh, and thanks a lot Mel Gibson. Finding out that my favorite actor was a drunk and an anti- semite in one day was not fun. Not fun at all.