teenagers

dear emily,

teenagers . . . did everybody get a little jolt at that word?  or at least a
tiny shiver?   oh, the power of a terrifying image.   forget "the walking
dead," how much scarier would "the multiplying teenager" be?

i remember watching disrespectful, mouthy teenagers in movies when
my angels were under ten and saying, "my children will never talk like
that."  i also thought that i would never be 'that' mom.    you know, the
one who morphs from june cleaver to joan crawford.

and the oscar for the most horrifying mom on the planet goes to . . .

if i could do it all over, which i can't, i would train up those bandits just
the way i did BUT not have a conniption fit when they strayed outside
the lines.    i would mete out a just consequence and say, "you're
smarter than this, but i still love you.   now go make me a martini."

love,
lea

"when the Lord brought back the captives to zion . . . our mouths were
filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy."   psalm 126:1, 2





 

squirrely stuff

my dog, jack, was barking his fool head off.
"squirrel! squirrel!!  squirrel!!!"

i'm not sure if it's the same squirrel who torments
him morning, noon, and night, but i would like
to thump him.  

yesterday, the pesky varmint frittered across our
swimming pool on top of the net.  i think he was
daring jack to come get him.   had jack not been
such a wise dog, he would have bounded out, and
sunk through the net.

i'll be danged if i let a squirrel kill my dog.

love,
lea

ps.   "it's the little foxes who kill the vines."  song of solomon 2:15

extensions

dear emily,

i have done many foolish things but right at the top of that list is getting
eyelash extensions.   just saying it makes me feel stupid . . . but they
looked SO beautiful.   instead of waking up to look like the palm of my
hand, i glided out of bed as princess kate.

unfortunately, those silly lashes had to be repaired every TWO weeks
which took about TWO hours.    as punishment for the sin of vanity,
my real-life puny lashes all fell out.

the princess turned into a frog.

it only took TWO months for my lashes to grow back, just long enough
to teach me a lesson.    if God had wanted me to have gorgeous, long
eyelashes, He could have made me be a cow. . . which is still better
than a frog.

love,
lea

ps.   "vanity, vanity, all is vanity!"   ecclesiastes 1:2

stay!

dear emily,

somehow, i misplaced our big, black family NIV bible (christmas, i guess.)    in
its place, my mother in law's big, black king james stepped up.   how in the
world did i get that, i wonder?   no matter, i love it.   the beautifully
expressive language has won my heart.

"for they call themselves of the holy city and STAY themselves upon the God of
israel."   isaiah 48:2

this 'calling' and 'staying' puts me in the mind of my westie, jack.   even
though he doesn't always come when i call,  he only feels safe when in my
home (city.)   he stays at my feet, eyes and ears tuned to me, whether i am
at the kitchen table, piano, or stove.

stay:  continue, remain, wait, endure, keep up (as in a race), stand one's
         ground, cinch (as in a girdle), root into

oh, to be a dogkeeper in the house of the Lord . . .

love,
lea

An Ode to John Fogerty

dear emily,

some day when your crew grows older and comes home for happy weeks
at a time, this is what your kitchen will enjoy.    max is on the right, hidden
beneath a baseball cap.   they saved the best part for the last.

he's my huckleberry!

love,
lea

is the author's life as important as her book?

dear emily,

i accompanied my mother in law all the way down to florida's tiny key
west for a writer's seminar.    to rub shoulders with the reigning kings and
queens of the literary kingdom and not to make a total fool of myself has
been tiring.   and exhilarating.

i knew enough to be bring sunscreen, but should have also brought my
dictionary.  the authors' jargon of choice was poly-everything.   polyphonic,
polymath, polysyllabic . . . all i knew was polyester.

the key note speaker, phyllis rose, maintained that we should be careful
judging the author by her book.    some of her may be in the book, but she
might also be completely different.   it made me wonder, who is the most
important, the author or the book?

i adore jane eyre but am only grateful to charlotte bronte.    should it be the
other way around?   which came first . . . miss bronte?   or did she come
alive as she created her lovely book?

the chicken or the egg?   my brain is a little scrambled.

love,
lea

ps.  "but we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing
power is from God and not from us."    2 corinthians 4:7

what do you treasure?

dear emily,

"an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone
around them, and they were terrified.  but the angel said to them, 'do not
be afraid.  i bring you good news of great joy that will be for all people.
today in the town of david a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the
Lord' . . . and mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her
heart."   luke 2:9, 10,19

we choose what to treasure and ponder.

merry Christmas,
lea

ps.   "angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o'er the plains . . . "