Tuesday, October 09, 2007
It's not just me
I have always rationalized that she must exist out there somewhere - someone even more obsessed with pumpkins than I. But I had not yet encountered her, until yesterday anyways.
It was finally a cool morning and the temperatures were to be in the low 80's. This day was to be a far cry from the past few weeks where our temps have hovered around 90 and the coolness of a fall morning has not been found. I ventured to the plant place and picked up a mum and some dianthus. I know it is also time to plant pansies and decorative cabbage, but I can't bring myself to pull up my impatients and geraniums - they are truly stunning right now. Well, the impatients are a little limp on this cool morning . . . but, anyhow . . .
My next stop is a grocery store which always has a great price on pumpkins. Mind you, this is my "basic pumpkin" buying trip. I walk in and forego the basket to check out the selection. After carefully examining the many pumpkins, I decide there are a few that will work. I return to the entrance to fetch a basket.
By the time I have returned to the produce section with the basket, she is there. Her basket already holds several large pumpkins. She sees me eyeing the pumpkins and the conversation begins.
"That one is a good one. No, that one right there. You should get that pumpkin."
I am a bit taken back. Nobody has ever invaded my pumpkin shopping.
I try to be kind. "I had some others picked out."
She is undeterred. She has spotted the pie pumpkins. She snatches one up and declares it perfect - for me, not her! I again decline - perhaps a bit on the defiant side - it did have a cute stem and shape.
I try to distance myself from her. She has moved to the basket of turban squash. I saw it coming, but hoped I would be gone by the time it happened. The turban squash are 49 cents a pound, not 49 cents a piece.
By the time I have picked out my big orange pumpkins and have moved to the pie pumpkins, squash and gourds I notice the turban squash basket is empty except for one lonely squash. She has made it to the checkout stand with her basket full.
I suddenly decide I am in desperate need of cookies as I dash down an aisle to avoid a confrontation with her that will lead to a discussion of the squash pricing - she is on her way back to the bin with a worker it tow.
I am done shopping and she is still at the checkout stand. I duck into another lane, but observe her closely. She tries to choose just one turban squash. It is impossible. She takes them all. She has been kind to the workers, realizing her misunderstanding of the sign.
I feel her pain. But for the record, she is more pumpkin obsessed than I am!
Of course today I am off to the produce stand to splurge on the specialty pumpkins - blue, green, Cinderella, and boo!
I should probably check my cash supply before going. It is best to never write a check that can be directly traced to the cost of my pumpkin obsession!!!
simple faith
I have always rationalized that she must exist out there somewhere - someone even more obsessed with pumpkins than I. But I had not yet encountered her, until yesterday anyways.
It was finally a cool morning and the temperatures were to be in the low 80's. This day was to be a far cry from the past few weeks where our temps have hovered around 90 and the coolness of a fall morning has not been found. I ventured to the plant place and picked up a mum and some dianthus. I know it is also time to plant pansies and decorative cabbage, but I can't bring myself to pull up my impatients and geraniums - they are truly stunning right now. Well, the impatients are a little limp on this cool morning . . . but, anyhow . . .
My next stop is a grocery store which always has a great price on pumpkins. Mind you, this is my "basic pumpkin" buying trip. I walk in and forego the basket to check out the selection. After carefully examining the many pumpkins, I decide there are a few that will work. I return to the entrance to fetch a basket.
By the time I have returned to the produce section with the basket, she is there. Her basket already holds several large pumpkins. She sees me eyeing the pumpkins and the conversation begins.
"That one is a good one. No, that one right there. You should get that pumpkin."
I am a bit taken back. Nobody has ever invaded my pumpkin shopping.
I try to be kind. "I had some others picked out."
She is undeterred. She has spotted the pie pumpkins. She snatches one up and declares it perfect - for me, not her! I again decline - perhaps a bit on the defiant side - it did have a cute stem and shape.
I try to distance myself from her. She has moved to the basket of turban squash. I saw it coming, but hoped I would be gone by the time it happened. The turban squash are 49 cents a pound, not 49 cents a piece.
By the time I have picked out my big orange pumpkins and have moved to the pie pumpkins, squash and gourds I notice the turban squash basket is empty except for one lonely squash. She has made it to the checkout stand with her basket full.
I suddenly decide I am in desperate need of cookies as I dash down an aisle to avoid a confrontation with her that will lead to a discussion of the squash pricing - she is on her way back to the bin with a worker it tow.
I am done shopping and she is still at the checkout stand. I duck into another lane, but observe her closely. She tries to choose just one turban squash. It is impossible. She takes them all. She has been kind to the workers, realizing her misunderstanding of the sign.
I feel her pain. But for the record, she is more pumpkin obsessed than I am!
Of course today I am off to the produce stand to splurge on the specialty pumpkins - blue, green, Cinderella, and boo!
I should probably check my cash supply before going. It is best to never write a check that can be directly traced to the cost of my pumpkin obsession!!!
simple faith
Labels: Pumpkins
Friday, October 05, 2007
A Wedding Revisited
We recently attended a wedding for two young adults that we greatly admire. We knew going in to the wedding that the colors were almost the same as ours - ours black and white/theirs black and ivory. But the night was full of moments that had me catching my breath and whispering to my husband things like, "Calla lilys!" and "Look at the monogrammed mints!" Yes, in some aspects it was our wedding revisited - and updated by twenty years.
Their pastor did an incredible job during the ceremony. He said all the things I believe about marriage summed up and presented in a beautiful package. He even did an awesome job of keeping the ceremony going when the bride was about to lose her composure during the vows - he quipped, "Yes, sometimes that poorer part is a little hard to take!" The bride and everyone laughed and she was able to continue looking as stunning as she did at the beginning of the ceremony.
About a week later I was still thinking how wonderful it was and remembering how wonderful our ceremony was also. I remembered our pastor's words to us about the three C's, but couldn't exactly come up with the words. So, I drug out the video, dusted it off, found a VCR in our house that was still actually in use, and sat down for a trip down memory lane.
First let me introduce you to our pastor. This is what he wore to the rehearsal: jeans, t-shirt, flip flops, and he did not bother to tuck his rat tail in his collar. Believe it or not, my Grandmother was impressed - not the uptight Baptist preacher she had prepared herself to meet.
His words to us were wise and everyone commented on them at the time. Twenty years later they still speak volumes in our relationship.
Companionship: we must choose to be lifelong friends.
Communication: the key to making the relationship work.
Commitment: what keeps us going through this entire journey together.
Twenty years ago I was deeply, passionately, completely in love with my husband. Today, somehow, I am even more deeply, passionately, completely in love with my husband. It is still the same, yet it is so different.
I cannot wait to see what is in store for us over the next twenty years.
Always and forever.
simple faith
We recently attended a wedding for two young adults that we greatly admire. We knew going in to the wedding that the colors were almost the same as ours - ours black and white/theirs black and ivory. But the night was full of moments that had me catching my breath and whispering to my husband things like, "Calla lilys!" and "Look at the monogrammed mints!" Yes, in some aspects it was our wedding revisited - and updated by twenty years.
Their pastor did an incredible job during the ceremony. He said all the things I believe about marriage summed up and presented in a beautiful package. He even did an awesome job of keeping the ceremony going when the bride was about to lose her composure during the vows - he quipped, "Yes, sometimes that poorer part is a little hard to take!" The bride and everyone laughed and she was able to continue looking as stunning as she did at the beginning of the ceremony.
About a week later I was still thinking how wonderful it was and remembering how wonderful our ceremony was also. I remembered our pastor's words to us about the three C's, but couldn't exactly come up with the words. So, I drug out the video, dusted it off, found a VCR in our house that was still actually in use, and sat down for a trip down memory lane.
First let me introduce you to our pastor. This is what he wore to the rehearsal: jeans, t-shirt, flip flops, and he did not bother to tuck his rat tail in his collar. Believe it or not, my Grandmother was impressed - not the uptight Baptist preacher she had prepared herself to meet.
His words to us were wise and everyone commented on them at the time. Twenty years later they still speak volumes in our relationship.
Companionship: we must choose to be lifelong friends.
Communication: the key to making the relationship work.
Commitment: what keeps us going through this entire journey together.
Twenty years ago I was deeply, passionately, completely in love with my husband. Today, somehow, I am even more deeply, passionately, completely in love with my husband. It is still the same, yet it is so different.
I cannot wait to see what is in store for us over the next twenty years.
Always and forever.
simple faith
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Set the Table
For the past several years I have had the opportunity to join some of my Methodist friends at an annual luncheon their church hosts as a missions fundraiser. I always look forward to it and have been greatly disappointed the few years I have not been able to attend.
This luncheon is a rarity in today's times. It involves beautiful table settings and generations of women working together to accomplish a common goal.
Each year has a theme - this year's was "100 Years of Oklahoma Hospitality". Each table hostess names their table theme which is then printed in the program and on a table card. This year table names included: Land Run Luncheon - a western themed table; Ties that Bind - a table featuring family heirloom jewelery; and Oh, What a Beautiful Morning - complete with black and white photos from "Oklahoma!".
It is always amazing to see the tables and I always arrive early for the "viewing". I am a closet dishes freak and these ladies pull out no stops with their place settings and table scapes. I leave inspired and appreciative of the art of setting a table - something that is not done often these days.
But what makes my heart sing is the interaction and learning that takes place between the generations. The older generation has taught the younger ones the proper way of setting a table (it is rumored that all tables are inspected and any out of place pieces suddenly find their proper placing overnight) and such things as how to charge a coffee pot (how to fill it with hot water for 30 minutes before using it to serve coffee, thereby warming the pot and keeping it from cooling off too quickly). I honestly have to get out an entertaining book to set a proper table if it has any extra pieces other than my daily norm.
And the older generation has learned from the younger generation about things such as menu changes (congealed salads are really not a necessity) and willingness to pass the torch.
Although these things are good lessons, they do not really touch the heart of the real learning that takes place, the intangible one I see each year.
The lesson of honor and respect among the generations is the lesson that truly makes the difference.
simple faith
For the past several years I have had the opportunity to join some of my Methodist friends at an annual luncheon their church hosts as a missions fundraiser. I always look forward to it and have been greatly disappointed the few years I have not been able to attend.
This luncheon is a rarity in today's times. It involves beautiful table settings and generations of women working together to accomplish a common goal.
Each year has a theme - this year's was "100 Years of Oklahoma Hospitality". Each table hostess names their table theme which is then printed in the program and on a table card. This year table names included: Land Run Luncheon - a western themed table; Ties that Bind - a table featuring family heirloom jewelery; and Oh, What a Beautiful Morning - complete with black and white photos from "Oklahoma!".
It is always amazing to see the tables and I always arrive early for the "viewing". I am a closet dishes freak and these ladies pull out no stops with their place settings and table scapes. I leave inspired and appreciative of the art of setting a table - something that is not done often these days.
But what makes my heart sing is the interaction and learning that takes place between the generations. The older generation has taught the younger ones the proper way of setting a table (it is rumored that all tables are inspected and any out of place pieces suddenly find their proper placing overnight) and such things as how to charge a coffee pot (how to fill it with hot water for 30 minutes before using it to serve coffee, thereby warming the pot and keeping it from cooling off too quickly). I honestly have to get out an entertaining book to set a proper table if it has any extra pieces other than my daily norm.
And the older generation has learned from the younger generation about things such as menu changes (congealed salads are really not a necessity) and willingness to pass the torch.
Although these things are good lessons, they do not really touch the heart of the real learning that takes place, the intangible one I see each year.
The lesson of honor and respect among the generations is the lesson that truly makes the difference.
simple faith
