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The reason The Belgian Wonder and I could take off for that getaway–the first official trip in 14 years of parenting (the only other one was a camping trip six or seven years ago and ranks low in romantic getaway power)–was that The Belgian Wonder’s parents were here from, well, Belgium. They stayed with the children while we flew to Florida!
We felt bad leaving; we were torn, actually. We wanted to maximize time with them ourselves, but this was our one chance to pull off this trip, as babysitting arrangements have consistently fallen apart at the last minute every other time we’ve planned something.
So we went. And then we came back and enjoyed a few more days of socializing with The Belgian Wonder’s wonderful folks. In the happy hubbub of all the interacting here at our house, I wasn’t able to tell you a little airport story.
We were in the Tampa airport on our way to the gate when we passed a pole that formed a visual corner to a little snack place. A triangle of tile flooring met up with some carpeting at the foot of that pole, and on that triangle of tile sat a penny.
I always stop and pick up pennies. But one time a few years ago I stooped over to pick up a coin only to discover that it had been glued to the concrete as a joke. Since then, I put my foot on the coin to see if it will move before bending over.
I set my cute shoe on the coin, and the penny scooted across the tile. So I bent down and picked it up.
“Oh, look!” I said delightedly to The Belgian Wonder, “it’s a wheat penny!” I flipped it to the front to see the date: 1920. “You don’t see these very often anymore.” I stuck it in my pocket.
“Cool,” said The Belgian Wonder, mildly impressed.
We decided we had enough time to turn back and use the restrooms before settling down in the vinyl chairs, so we passed the pole and took turns waiting with the bags outside the facilities.
Then we walked past that pole again and there on the triangle of tile sat another penny!
“Hey! Look!” I exclaimed, pointing. “Another one! In the same spot…wait a minute…hm…” I spun around to see if I could see a camera or a suspicious looking person. Was this an experiment to see if anyone stops to pick up pennies anymore? Or is this how some bored businessman passes the time in airports, waiting to see how long it takes for someone to notice it? Was someone taking a video?
I was in a quandary…should I take it? Leave it?
I left it, but then sat in the chairs by the gate wondering about it. What was that about? How would I change the results if I went back?
“Should I go get that penny?” I asked The Belgian Wonder.
“It’s up to you,” he said.
“I think I should go,” I said.
“I wouldn’t,” he replied, “but that’s just me.”
I didn’t go back.
But I kept thinking about Annie Dillard. In Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, she describes how, as a child, she hid pennies for people to find in the roots of a sycamore or in a hole left by a chipped off piece of sidewalk. Then she would draw big arrows with chalk pointing to the treasure. When she could write, she labeled the arrows “Surprise ahead!” or “Money this way!” She was greatly excited by the whole process of hiding and waiting for the lucky passer-by to follow the signs and find the penny. Then she ponders at an adult level:
There are many things to see, unwrapped gifts and free surprises. The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside by a generous hand. But- and this is the point- who gets excited by a mere penny? If you follow one arrow, if you crouch motionless on a bank to watch a tremulous ripple thrill on the water and are rewarded by the sight of a muskrat paddling from its den, will you count that sight a chip of copper only, and go on your rueful way? It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won’t stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get. [found typed out here]
I love that whole thing. “If you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted in pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days.”
And, “What you see is what you get.”
What you see is what you get.
Are we so malnourished and fatigued that we miss the treasures in our path every single day? Are we unable to see anymore? Or do we simply not care about a little copper penny?
My friend Ruth Vaughn wrote a book called Letters Dropt from God, the title taken from Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass:
In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my own face in the glass,
I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every one is sign’d by God’s name
She tells how she sees so many ways God seems to be communicating with her. She’ll notice some small gift, a “letter dropt from God,” left for her to see. Some beautiful tree or a phone call at just the right moment of need. These small “letters” help her feel that He is working in her life, assuring her of His presence and love.
She learned to see. And what she saw, was was she got: gifts from God, daily, recorded in a journal.
I wrote a post not long ago about beauty, when reporting on Katherine Paterson’s message at the Festival of Faith & Writing.
I asked:
I wonder if you agree that we need beauty?
Do you feel that our children need to be nourished on beauty?
If so, what kind of beauty?
Do you do anything proactively to bring beauty into their lives?
In the comments, Prairie Chick said:
I am a firm believer in our need for beauty, but I also am a firm believer that we never have to search far to find it. We have been over indulged in our society and miss the simple beauty that inspired all other beauty to begin with. We are so surrounded by blaring, glaring, busy-ness that we are desensitized to the beauty of the wind in the leaves, the clouds in the sky, the contrast of lady bug red against fern green. Heck, I find beauty in mud bogs and marshes and faded red paint on old barn walls. Viva la bellezza naturale!
She sees it. Every day, everywhere. Similarly, LLBarkat wrote:
Oh, absolutely. Now, as to where they might find it, the world is wide open. Beauty all around. I like to tell them, “there’s a glimpse, a taste, a texture of God in [whatever it is]…”
It’s all around us whether we notice it or not, that simple beauty. Everywhere there’s that glimpse of God in what He’s made, if we can see it…every day, a bit of copper gleaming in our path.
I don’t know who left the wheat penny. I don’t know what they were doing. But I’m glad I stopped to pick it up. Finding a literal penny reminds me to look for all the figurative pennies cast broadside by a generous hand…to see them all…to stoop and pick them up.
Thank you, whoever you are. You made my day.
I hope that by leaving the second one, I made someone else’s day.
I hope that somebody saw it.
I hope that somebody wasn’t too ”malnourished and fatigued” to bother stooping to pick it up.
Does anyone other than a six-year-old child (and Ann Kroeker) get excited by a mere penny?
For those who didn’t see last Monday’s announcement, I closed down Monday FunDay.
Don’t get me wrong; we’re still having fun. Just not officially on the blog on Mondays.
Life is not all fun, of course; sometimes families need to learn to just dig in and get something done.
But sometimes, families need to remember that they can have some fun mixed in with serious chores or even that work can be fun.
In memory of the now defunct Monday FunDay, here are several ways to inject some fun into everyday life–11 Fun Tips:
- Boo! Jump from behind a door and scare someone! My kids just love this! Perhaps it’s the older version of the game of peek-a-boo we played with them when they were sitting in a high chair?
- Hopscotch: Hand the kids some chalk to draw hopscotch squares on the sidewalk and join them hopping from one to another before picking up the button/stone/bottlecap. Can’t remember how to play? Here are basic instructions.
- Storytelling: Play storytelling games while driving, after dinner, or whenever you’re together. One technique is simply to pass the story along. Say just one word per person and go around and around the circle–or volley back and forth between two people–adding on until the story starts going someplace. You can each tell a sentence or a small chunk of the story before passing it to the next person.
- Radio Karaoke: Turn up the radio on some vintage song and impress your kids by singing along with every word. Be bold–sing with gusto!
- Impromptu Party: Make up any reason at all for having an impromptu party. Have a “Look, the Sun is Shining!” picnic party or a “Daylilies Are Blooming” tea party. Use any idea for a theme (the goofier, the more fun it is). Pull out some soft drinks and chips, turn up the music, make it a picnic or bake a cake. Whatever feels like a party without lots of planning. It can be just family, or if it’s not stressful for you, invite some friends over. The spontaneity makes it extra fun.
- Do Something Creative: Do something artistic or creative. It really doesn’t matter what–cook some new recipe or make one up; pull out the watercolor paints with the kids and give it a go alongside them; try a new craft; write a poem.
- Skip Rocks: Go to a stream, pond or lake and skip some flat rocks. If you take the kids, teach them to keep the rocks low and toss them away from people…because skipping rocks is fun but being hit by a rock is not fun.
- Collage: This should be a subheading under “Do Something Creative,” but I can’t figure out how to do subpoints with WordPress. Make some kind of a collage with old magazine photos, letters, words and your own photos intermingled with markers, pastels and paints. I’ve seen some really artistic versions online, so you can Google for inspiration, but don’t let the fancy ones intimidate you. Just capture your mood, your joys, your hopes and dreams, your journey at that moment in time. It’s fun to mess around with scissors and glue sticks. It’s fun to do with the kids. When you’re done, hang it up for a while to ponder and/or post it on your blog.
- Book Crossing/Book Fairy: Too many books? Sign up for Book Crossing and leave one lying around on a park bench or a grocery cart for a stranger to enjoy. Before I knew about Book Crossing, I simply left them for others to enjoy, thinking of myself as the Book Fairy. It really is fun if you can see the delight on someone’s face. One time we were camping, and I left the books right outside the busy bath house with a Post-It that said, “Free Book! I’m done with it–it’s yours. Enjoy!”
- Eat a New Food: Buy one new vegetable or fruit that you’ve never eaten before. Find an easy, promising method of preparation and taste the final product. Try to talk the rest of the household into giving it a taste test. Write a journal or blog entry about the experience.
- Letters: Write an encouraging, fun note to send via snail mail to a family member, friend, soldier, prisoner. It’s fun for you…and for the recipient.
There you have it: Eleven tips for some Wednesday Fun.
Add your own fun ideas in the comments, and I’ll combine all of them in a Fun Tips Roundup Post in the next day or two!
For more Works For Me Wednesday ideas, visit Rocks In My Dryer.
For my own vintage Works For Me Wednesday ideas, click here.
A couple of months ago, someone introduced this prayer to our church and invited people to commit to praying it for 30 days. Our little family happened to miss almost every weekend service at church that month, so we didn’t end up joining the covenant.
Later, I asked for a copy.
Here it is:
Jesus, be the Lord of my life today in new ways.
Change me any way you want.
Wash me clean from every sin.
Fill me with your Holy Spirit.
Make me a channel of Your love and grace.
Make me an instrument of Your mercy and justice.
Bring glory to Yourself in me and through me.
If it pleases You, use me today to lead persons into this sacred pilgrimage of exalting You as Lord, for all You are by sharing this prayer covenant with others.
I pray in the Mighty Name of Jesus. Amen
As I began praying it, I thought about how radical this is–it’s utterly yielding one’s self to the Lord to have His way with me. “Here I am, Lord; I’m all yours.” Here am I. Send me!
Today I read the story of the rich young man (Mark 10:17-22). The man runs to Jesus and falls on his knees asking, “Good teacher…what must I do to inherit eternal life?” After Jesus reviews the commandments that the man is sure he’s kept since his youth, Jesus says, “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
The man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.
Could this prayer be similar–with me starting out as hopeful as that young man, eagerly running up to Jesus and falling to my knees, saying, “Jesus, be the Lord of my life…change me, fill me, use me…” Then, when He actually shows me something specific, will I walk away sad because I’m afraid to let go of the life I’m living? Will I be too weak to really let Him be Lord of my life in new ways? Will I be too afraid to let Him change me any way He wants?
I feel like the father in the story in Mark 9. Jesus said, regarding the healing of the man’s son, “Everything is possible for him who believes.” Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”
I want You to change me, Lord; help the part of me that’s afraid to change!
And I’m comforted by what Jesus told his disciples after the rich young man went away. ”With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.” (Mark 10:27).
If it feels impossible to yield completely, remember that with God all things are possible.
Jesus, be Lord of my life in new ways…and help me let You be Lord of my life in new ways.
We picked out some brie cheese, mushrooms, and a tomato for the omelette innards. I chopped them up, then fluffed the eggs with a fork.
I poured the eggs into the skillet. “Would you flip it?” I asked The Belgian Wonder.
He agreed.
“I can’t watch,” I confessed. The risk of loss was so great; and the pan, so small. I turned away until I heard it floof into the pan.
“You did it?” I asked.
“Hold on.” Floof.
We don’t call him The Belgian Wonder for nuthin’.
Thanks to his dexterity, reflexes, and a skillful flick of the wrist, we ended up with this:
Ah, c’est magnifique! (click on the photo to enlarge and gaze upon the bits of brie along the edge, melting into the mushrooms.)
I highly recommend the combination of tomatoes, brie, mushrooms, and the skills of a dextrous sous chef for a greatly satisfying breakfast entree.
Look who came along on our trip!
The cute shoes you met one Monday FunDay stowed away in a suitcase. They couldn’t resist showing off a beach flower:
And a bed of shell bits:
Also, I wanted to show you the view today.
Blue skies. Sun.
Very nice.
Our room is not exactly what one would call high-end luxury accommodations. The glass knob on the bathroom door looks very Shabby Chic:
It’s more than a decorating style, though; it’s a really old door:
But hey, it was an inexpensive place on the beach, which is giving us moments like this:
Mmmm….
Remind me again why I live in the landlocked Midwest?
I grabbed a bunch of magazines from my tower of reading material to browse on the plane. One of them is a New Age-y health magazine called Body + Soul. There’s some strange stuff in there, but I leafed through and got a recipe for baked beans that looks promising, and found on page 26 some interesting statistics:
- Last year, 85% of North American households didn’t buy one single nonfiction book.
- Of those who did purchase one, 90% didn’t read it.
- Combine this data with the statistic that we’ve got our TVs on more than six hours a day, and the author warns, “I’ve never met one massively high achiever who has time to sit in front of the plug-in drug.” **
Instead of watching TV, he says, read.
Go out and buy a nonfiction book–or fiction, of course–and read. Think. Learn.
Speaking of reading, I started L.L. Barkat’s book Stone Crossings. More on that later.
Wait a minute! What am I doing, typing up statistics on my blog while I’m on vacation with my beloved Belgian Wonder? Shouldn’t we be basking in the silence? Or chatting uninterrupted?
Never fear. We’ve already enjoyed some uninterrupted conversation.
At the moment, he’s napping peacefully on the couch.
It’s raining outside, but warm.
I can hear the Gulf waters lapping against the sand.
I’m digesting some seafood (stuffed flounder).
We’re relaxing.
Here’s what we saw out the window as we landed:
And here’s what we can see if we step out onto a side balcony:
Tomorrow I’ll make omelettes on the stove in this little efficiency to serve with tea and Pillsbury biscuits, and then, weather permitting, we’ll drag two of those lounge chairs down to the beach and stare at the water.
And we’ll read.
** I’m assuming that most bloggers are readers who fall into the 15 percent who bought a book and the 10 percent who read it.
Do tell:
- How many books did you buy and read last year?
- How about this year–how many have you bought? How many have you read?
After 14 years of parenting, I’m about to find out.
We parents of four are going on a little outing, just the two of us.
Seven years ago was the only time we’ve traveled anywhere on our own since we’ve had kids–a short, chilly camping trip. We like camping with the kids, and we hate to complain, but we’re hoping to improve on that a little bit.
Since then we’ve tried to go on several trips that just never worked out–usually it was that the babysitting fell through.
This time, we’ve got it all set up. Lord willing, we’ll be heading out on our own to rediscover the joys of uninterrupted conversation.
I told the family we’d try to post a couple of reports here on the blog. I rarely travel without my laptop, so hopefully I’ll have Internet access.
And you know, I started out joking about the whole uninterrupted conversation thing from the perspective of parenting; but in a world of continuous access via texting, e-mail and cell phones, it’s an interesting question.
Do we live in a world where uninterrupted conversation is no longer possible?
To achieve any kind of focused conversation, one must choose to turn off or at least turn down technology and simplify.
Slow down.
Adjust to the quiet.
Before uninterrupted conversation, enjoy a moment of silence.
In fact, take just a minute before you click to visit the next blog.
Ignore the e-mail alert popping up in the corner of your screen.
Plug your ears for just a moment.
Let the phone go to voicemail.
Just sit here for a minute…………….
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
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…………….Peaceful, isn’t it?…………
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That’s what I’m hoping for.
Peaceful moments, quiet conversation with The Belgian Wonder….and a few sunny days on the beach.
** Excuse me…this should be titled Crockpot Stock **
Turkey breasts were on sale last week at Kroger, so I bought one and cooked it all day in the crockpot.
We enjoyed it as our main course this evening. After dinner, The Belgian Wonder cut every morsel of meat from the carcass. We’ll use the leftovers in sandwiches.
Then super-frugal, domestic Ann put the carcass right back into the crockpot, added water and a few fading veggies, then turned it on high so that it would come to a bubbly boil.
Mmm….homemade broth. Er, stock.
I could have strained it tonight and put it in the fridge for tomorrow’s soup, but I just wanted to type up a blog post and go to bed.
So instead of staying up late dealing with drippy broth, I’m leaving it in the crockpot and letting it simmer on low overnight. I’ll deal with it in the morning, when I have more time.
Crockpot broth? Turkey soup for lunch?
That works for me.
What else works for me? An unusual array of tips and solutions of my own, as well as the collection that shows up at Rocks In My Dryer.
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