Pre-Hoarder???

In 2008, when I went to London, my friend Laquita and her husband cleaned my house for me while I was gone.  Ever since then, I think Laquita watches me carefully for signs of being a hoarder. She was amazed that yes, I buy toilet paper and paper towels at Sam’s Club. I have good reasons for why I do the things I do. 

First,  I have an unnatural, illogical, unreasonable fear of running out of toilet paper.  I know, it doesn’t make sense, I live alone. But, I don’t want to run out – I LIVE ALONE! I could be stuck for days, until someone came to look for me!!

Second, I am very messy! I go through LOTS of paper towels.  I also usually take 1/2 of the rolls to my classroom!  School paper towels are rough on the hands.  (I heard a rumor that someone once discovered one of the ingredients in school paper towels is recycled cardboard!)  Especially when my students are sick, I wash my hands frequently and I use paper towels. I prefer white, roll paper towels to brown, flat cardboard.

Today, while trying to clean some I found another reason why I might appear to be in the beginning stages of hoarding.  I am not organized and loose things!!!  I found a bag of glue sticks for my glue gun.  Yay, I’ll put them with my glue gun.  Imagine my surprised when I found yet ANOTHER bag of glue sticks.  (And then, part of a third bag!)  I know, it would appear that I could be hoarding glue sticks, right? I’m not, I just keep losing them and have to buy new ones because I CAN’T find the ones I already have!! I also keep a glue gun in my classroom and it is entirely possible that I purchased one of those bags to go to my classroom and it never made it. 

I don’t think we need to call A&E yet! I think I’m safe for a while.  I’m not a hoarder, I just am unorganized and clueless sometimes!!!

Cake Mix Cookies

A few weeks ago, I was invited to a lovely luncheon. My best  friend Laquita has three boys of her own, she and her husband raised three foster children (all boys) and now have had three exchange students (again, all boys!).  Her oldest son, Derek is getting married in November and Quita will be getting her first daughter in law. She had a luncheon for Emily to meet the women who will become her family.  I was invited, even though I’ve already met Emily and I’m not really family.  (Although I baby-sat for Derek when he was a baby, and Derek once wrote me note signed “your young husband” and one of the boys once wet on me when he was little.)  I went over early to help with stuff  and Quita asked me make strawberry cookies.   Here they are: 

  They were sweet, very “strawberry-y”   crisp.  They were good, even if I do say so myself. 

 

 

 

Today I made chocolate cookies.  I used my cookie press (Don’t ask WHY I have a cookie press – I have WAY too many kitchen utensils.) 

I’ve gotta tell you, these are the easiest cookies I’ve ever made. 

Here is the secret:  these were both made from cake mixes. . . Yes, cake mixes. It is the easiest thing in the whole wide world.  Take one cake mix, any flavor apparently works. I’m thinking lemon next.  Add a 1/3 cup of vegetable oil.  (For the strawberry cookies, I used 1/2 cup, but I think it was a little much. Much easier to mix up, but  I think 1/3 cup is sufficient.)  Add two eggs, mix it all up.    Put on the pan in teaspoonfuls, or use your cookie press.  Bake at 350 for 8 – 10 minutes. The chocolate ones took 9 minutes exactly.  Cook and eat!! Easy, easy, easy!!

For the love of. . .lychees

We have two lychee trees in our yard.  They were here when we bought the house, so we certainly cannot take credit for them. They are pretty trees, tall and graceful, and when the red lychees are ready, they are really gorgeous.  Right now is the time of year when the lychees are ready. The fruit is getting more and more red each day. 

If you’ve never seen a lychee, they are very hard to describe. The fruit is about an inch long, and has a red, pebbly skin. You have to peel them to eat the inside which is white and surrounds a large brown seed. I think they taste horrible. Part of my problem with them is a texture thing – to me, they look like a big wad of snot.  I know that’s gross, but I don’t know how else to describe it. Wikipedia says “The fresh fruit has a delicate, whitish pulp.”  Ick.

I live upstairs, and the two treetops are easily seen out my windows upstairs.  One is outside my kitchen window and one is outside my bedroom window. 

Here is the problem with our lychee trees – people steal the fruit. Every year we fight this battle.  One morning last summer, I’m in the kitchen in my pajamas, mind you and I hear people talking outside my window. I live upstairs – I’m not supposed to hear people right outside the window. I look out and there are two Asian men in my back yard, one up in the tree. They parked in our driveway, got out a ladder, walked into our backyard and were helping themselves to lychees from our tree.  I yelled at them and guess what they told me --  “We gave you these trees!”  Now, (again) Wikipedia does tell me that lychees trees are native to China.  However, those men in MY tree did not give me that tree.  I have this terrible fear that someone will fall out of the tree and it will of course be our fault!  So, if any of you like lychees, feel free to come and pick some. I won’t yell at you.   The thing is, if somebody were to knock on the door and ASK, hey can we pick some lychees off your tree, I wouldn’t care in the least. But to come in the yard, climb up the tree and just start picking, that’s just rude. 

My Church

I love my church!  Today we had lunch after church. We had baptism, (one of my boys from Awana and Junior Church was baptized!) and then we had lunch.  I’ve been to LOTS of church fellowship lunches, usually called “dinner on the ground”  but this was a first. Today we had STEAK and baked potatoes.  We have a couple in our church who have a ranch and they provided the steaks. Another family caters barbeque and he grilled the steaks.  They were FABULOUS.  I’ve not heard one person say they got a bad steak today. I like my steaks well done, so I realize that usually, I’m sacrificing tenderness for doneness. but today they were all perfectly done and perfectly tender.  They were absolutely wonderful. I left full, full, full.

It wasn’t just the food – we got to sit around and TALK and catch up with some stuff from people we see across the way sometimes, but don’t always get to really TALK to.  It was just a wonderful, wonderful time!!

We had great food, great desserts and great, great fellowship.  It was a great way to start this last week of work! 

My Heart Hurts!

Mother’s Day hurts my heart. I always miss my Momma on Mother’s Day. But this year, especially, Mother’s Day has been especially painful.
Tonight I went to a memorial service for a child in my class who lost his mom. I was (and still am!) such a mess when my mom went to heaven – and I was an adult. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be a kid and lose your mom. My heart hurts for him.
My friend Kathy has a daughter who has a brain tumor. Stupid, nasty thing keeps coming back. She’s so worried about her child, even though her child is grown. They’ve had one thing after another, after another. My heart hurts for her.
My friend Jenn, who has the stupid, nasty brain tumor, is about to become a mom. Her baby will have to come early so they can deal with the tumor. Her baby will be tiny – and right now, she (the baby) is breech and needs to turn QUICKLY. My heart hurts for her.
My friend Debbie Jenkins had a heart attack last Sunday. Her family is waiting, waiting, waiting. . My heart hurts for them.
My other friend is worried about her daughter – her daughter’s heart is broken. Her marriage is not turning out like she dreamed it would. The mother’s heart is breaking and she’s my friend. My heart hurts for both of them, even though I don’t even know her daughter.
I can’t do anything for ANY of my friends. I can’t make it better. I can’t bring my child’s mother back; I can’t heal Jenn or make that baby turn. I can’t help Mrs. Debbie wake up! I can’t stop a divorce, or heal a broken family. AND that makes my heart hurt. If I was having pains in my real, actual heart, you know, the blood pumping part, I’d go to the doctor and let him treat me. I need to go to the Great Physician and let Him do the healing. I can cast all my cares upon Him, because He cares for me. And He cares for my student, who seemed who seemed so small, but so brave as he spoke at his mother’s memorial service. He cares for Kathy and Jenn, and that tiny, sweet baby - who needs to turn around!!! He cares for “Charlie’s Grill” as our sweet Trevor calls Mrs. Debbie and for Bro Charlie and for Brian. He cares for my friend and her daughter and her family. He cares and He can heal all our hurting hearts!

He Knows My Name

There’s a song that goes like this:

I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
My life was in his hands

I have a Father
He calls me His own
He'll never leave me
No matter where I go

He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
And He hears me when I call

I like that song, I like it along. But I thought of something the other day that made me like it even more.

I attend a church that is semi-large. For much of my life, I was the preacher’s kid, so everybody knew me. People all over the state of Florida still know me because of who my parents are. One of the things I love about my church is that I’m NOT the “PK” at my church. But sometimes, in a larger church, it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. Most of the time I love that! But, every now and then I get in a funky mood where I start to wonder if I missed church, if people would even miss me. It’s usually when I’m in a feeling sorry for myself kind of mood. My logical mind knows that my church attendance and the stuff I do at my church matter to God, not to the people at my church. I know that, but still, every now and then I get “in the flesh” and turn into a whiny baby.

A while ago, something kind of strange happened and when I was getting out of my car and my pastor saw me! He called me and asked me if everything was OK. This situation wasn’t caused by him, it had nothing to do with him, but he was worried that I might be upset. He said “Sandi, are you all right” and he apologized for this thing, EVEN though it wasn’t his fault! It was right before AWANA started so I talked to him, and then went on through my night. Later that night, when I got home, I started thinking about the whole thing and I got a little verklempt! I was shocked that my pastor, who has so many other things to worry about, KNEW that I might be upset. I was touched that he CARED that I might be upset. And to be perfectly honest, I was amazed most of all that he called me by name. I wasn’t just Bobby Jimmerson’s daughter; I wasn’t Robyn or Patti’s sister, I wasn’t Ken, Josh or Makiah’s aunt. I wasn’t the teacher in Room 18, wasn’t just the AWANA lady or the Junior Church person. He knew, asked about and cared about ME!

Then it hit me – and I got even more verklempt. How much more amazing is it that God knows my name? He has even more things to be concerned about than my pastor. The things that matter to me, matter to Him. When I’m upset, He knows – and He cares. It says even the hairs of our head are numbered. He knows how many stars there are, and He calls them all by name. But He still knows MY name. My hopes, my dreams, my wishes, my wants, my hurts – they all matter to Him.

I love my pastor, and I’m so glad that through him, I was reminded of the great love of my God.

A Moment with my Mom. . .

Today I had a moment with my mom!  It’s hard for me to believe that next month, she will have been gone from us for 10 years!  In some ways, it seems like she was just here and in other ways, it was a lifetime ago. But today, I felt like she was right with me!

My mom was a sewer.  When we were little, she made all our clothes.  I didn’t love it at the time, since I wore the same dress three times – my own, then Patti’s when she grew out of it, then Robyn’s when I grew into it!  We have school pictures from one year we have on our matching dresses – they weren’t exactly the same, but it was all the same year!  She actually made Robyn’s wedding dress and our bridesmaid’s dresses. 

Later in her life, she started making baby quilts.  When Robyn was expecting Ken, Mom embroidered a quilt for his room, and I embroidered matching sheets and a pillow case.  We probably have those somewhere too! 

After she went to Heaven, I got all her sewing and embroidery stuff, including some quilts and quilt tops that she started and never finished.  I went through them the other day and found some, since I have a friend who is expecting a baby.  She’s not very far along, but I figured it would take me a while to finish it!  I found one I liked, got it out of the box and put it aside.  Today I took it out and got ready to work on it. 

Not long before she died, she had had some trouble with her eyes.  She actually had some procedure done to one eye and was going to have the other one done eventually. Little tiny directions had become hard for her to read.  I found the package of papers where she had enlarged the direction so she could see them more clearly.  Imagine my surprise, when inside, I found a set of needles that were still threaded with the embroidery floss.  It looked like she just put it away a day or two ago.  I wish she had!

I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately!  I used my sewing scissors on Monday and thought of her!  When I started school, she went to work.  She worked at a bra factory, sewing bras!  She has a special pair of scissors for fabric and sewing, and there was NO mercy for the poor kid who used them to cut paper!  She had to get a really good pair for the factory, and they engraved her name on them. Every time I use them, I see her name on them! 

Then, just this week, someone mentioned something that made me think of her.  She always thought of other people!  My friend Nanette, connected me with a new, old friend on Facebook.  This friend’s mom passed away YEARS ago.  My mom thought it would be a good idea for us to keep her kids, along with her sister’s kids, during their mom’s last days, so that they could be with her.  To us, it was a little thing – play with these little kids, but to those girls who were losing their mom, it was apparently a HUGE deal. My mom could always think of the right thing to do! 

I miss her, but I’m so thankful for the things she left me!  Half completed baby quilts, a great pair of sewing scissors, and a history of doing nice things for other people!