Brave enough to ask the big questions

Do you ever think about your friends?  I do.  I think about how nice or pretty or funny they are.  I think about how they don't have gray hair and probably shave their legs more often than I do.  But I've begun to wonder if I really know them?  Sure, I can spell their names, find their houses, and call their pets by name ... kind of.  But what about the things I don't know?   What if they're famous and I'm missing out?  What if they have an evil clone - will I know my friend enough to pick her out?  These are the things that keep me awake at night and Facebook has been of no help to me whatsoever.

For example, there's Caution.  No.  Not me.  But a friend who shares my first name and last initial.  It caused a mix-up once or twice, but our husbands apparently know who we are and that helps.  Here's what I do know: she is a numbers wizard.  She speaks math as her second language and she doesn't even have an accent! I also know she is a great scout leader and her cooking/baking/entertaining would make Martha cry with jealousy.  She's probably a lot nicer than Martha, too.  So what else could I possibly need to know?  For starters, does she ever cheat and use her fingers to count?  Can she hula hoop?  Plain pretzels or with mustard?

See what I mean?  You think you know someone, but what you DON'T know may be more interesting and valuable.

There's another friend around here.  Another scout leader and capable leader. I KNOW that she's smart and fun and that she thrives on organization and creative ideas.  She is also fond of pirates. So what is it that I don't know?  Does she floss as often as she probably tells the dentist?  Creamy or chunky peanut butter? Christmas music before Thanksgiving or not?  And though she might want to sing karaoke, do WE want her to?

So what is my point here you ask desperately hoping there is one. Rest assured, I am very point driven and today's is this:  Do we know each other beyond names, general continent of residence, and whether or not we have the ability to type withouttt typos?

If you've been curious about who I am, here are the answers:
yes,
sometimes,
strawberry,
over the top of the roll,
as little as I have to,
about $51.86.

Doesn't that feel better??? We are actually getting to really know each other and I couldn't be happier.
Anything else you need to know, just ask.  In the meantime, I'm going to log back into Facebook to find out if my friends have birthdays or not.

A Gaggle of Girls

Dear mothers of young daughters, listen well and heed my advice. Get thyselves to the store where friends are sold. Buy several dozen for your daughter. Do not worry about coupons. Do not try to shop sales. Be willing to pay full price. You must do this today.

You see, one day your little girl will be a teen-ager and she will come home and tell you that she and her boyfriend have parted company. You will think, "Who didn't see that coming?" but you will refrain and instead say, "Great!" Your daughter will gaze at you with eyes bathing in unshed tears, and then she will turn to her girlfriends. They will tell her that he was a:

jerk,

idiot,

loser,

and any number of more colorful descriptors.

You will try to tell her that these things happen. Her friends will march right up to him while he chats with his friends and demand to know just what he was thinking. They will send him dirty looks at lunch. They will blow-up his Facebook with mean comments.

You will tell her that she is beautiful. They will cry with her and fight over which of them will get to "marry" her so that her Facebook status won't have to say single.

You will assure her that she is talented and strong and ... they will tell her that the cute guy in geometry class likes her.

And later that night, when you spend a little time with the Lord, you will humbly thank him for sending friends such as these into your girl's life.

A New Friend for YOU!

How is it that someone's good news can so often be sad news for someone else?

Here's an example of how that conundrum is playing out in this house:

Susan is lovely and a fairly new friend for me. She is a mom of a child who befriended my youngest son when he desperately needed someone to do that.

She is also a military wife and will soon leave our snow-bound state for another assignment much closer to her own family. It's happy news for her. Not so much for the entire state of Michigan.

Susan is a talented photographer, writer, AND BLOGGER!!

Would you do me a favor? Stop by http://alongfortheride-susan.blogspot.com/ and show her some blogger love (and fall in love with her breathtakingly beautiful children.) And while you're at it, tell her something wonderfully positive about me the state of Michigan.

Sincerely,

Caution

aka

a not so gifted photographer

What Would YOU Have Said?

On the last day of the last month she called.  Happy for a reason to stop the lawnmower and sit awhile, I took her call and settled in for a long chat about kids, marriage, work, neighbors, and all those other things women have to say.  At the 45 minute mark of the conversation, my ears burning from the heat of my phone, I began to make my conversation-ending summation when she asked:

"Why don't you ever call me?"

My answer was completely truthful!  I'm not a phone talker.  I rarely call anyone.  I'm an emailer and texter and face-to-face talker.  And I sounded entirely defensive and completely unbelievable.

As I struggled to find a way to leave the conversation without sounding even less sincere, she asked one last question:

"I tell you my problems. Why don't you tell me yours?"

The only thing I could think of as an answer was, "Because I really don't want to."

But since I couldn't really say that and because I couldn't think of any other reason, I blamed Checkered for needing the phone and I hung up.

I still can't think of a better answer.  Can you?

The Happiness Project: Medic!

What makes me happy?  Camping with friends who are also paramedics. It is very handy when:

Child #2 decides to break rocks between his bare feet and cuts his ankle nearly to the bone.

and

Child #4 is bitten by a dog.

Poor Lt. Matt.  He may have to vacation with us for years to come.

Now fly over to Leigh's place, and tell us what makes YOU happy.

How Much Easier It Would Be

My friend, my dear friend, lives about a mile away. If the houses were leveled, all traffic stopped, and all people silenced, she could (if I had the wind at my back) hear me yelling to her from my house.

I love her. Really, truly love her.

And we didn't call or visit one time this summer. Work schedules could be blamed, but neither of us worked this summer. We're out of excuses why. It just didn't happen.

She was buying potatoes last week and how do I know that, you ask?

I was buying potatoes, too.

We shrieked. We hugged. We cautioned each other about germs. We played produce aisle catch-up, and then, with multiple promises to call, we parted.

I miss her even though I can't help but think if she would just blog or Facebook, it would be so much easier than hollerin' across the mile that divides us.

S is for Sweet

I really need to carry a camera more often. If I did that, I wouldn't be reduced to blatantly copying my friends' Facebook pix to use here. Oh well. If you're my FB friend, lock your profile pix down tightly lest you be the focus of this blog some day. And those of you who aren't yet my FB friends? Keep your real names well-hidden from me. It's your only hope.

While you're no doubt rendered speechless at the quality of my introduction to today's post, I will risk impressing you even further by reminding you that today is A-Z or Z-A Mondays hosted by Jen.

And now, since I seem to be majoring in abrupt and awkward transitions, it's time to discuss how the letter S is for sweet. Do you see the afore-mentioned picture? It's my friend whose job it was on Friday to be MOB/mother of the bride. The wedding was beautiful with a bride and groom uncontainably in serious love. I was able to fit into a dress, so I was clothed, and all was well.

What an unexpected friendship the MOB and I have had since that year a century ago when I was her son's Sunday school teacher. I was an about-to-be mother; she was a seasoned veteran. And one Sunday, in a crowded restroom, we began to talk. Amazingly enough, that conversation is still going on though we have finally moved out of the restroom.

Since the beginning, she has always created enough time to listen, to counsel, to pray with and for me and my family, and to laugh. I think she's a wonderful mom, a great wife, and a friend. Now, wait. I forgot to add an adjective before friend, so here's a few. Just take your pick knowing that each one is the truth:

smart friend

humorous friend

dear friend

my friend.

Oh yes, S Sertainly Stands for Sweet.

Hostess Trying to Have the Mostess

It's Friday, so away we go with Friday's Freewrite and Friday Fragments.

1. A long time ago in a galaxy far away, we had some acquaintances over for dinner. It was a nice evening, but they never spoke to us again really after that night. A while later, my sibling and the acquaintance both relocated to the same town. The acquaintance was wonderful about helping my sister get settled, so as a thank-you my sister had the acquaintance over for dinner. You guessed it: they've never spoken again.

2. I have marvelous next door neighbors. Low maintenance, generous, kind. We've been neighbors for a decade and they've each been inside my house one time. I don't think I've ever been farther than their front doors. Funny the boundaries that keep us as good neighbors, I guess.

3. When we bought this house, we wanted certain features which would someday accommodate our kids' friends and youth group activities. Now that our daughter is in the youth group at church, I can think of many reasons why I've never hosted an activity here.

4. I'm thinking it was a man who built all these houses in the 70's and 80's with a bathroom right off the kitchen or living room. Some things really do need to remain private.

5. My nephew never once complained to us about being forced to give his bedroom to us while we visited. Thanks, J, for your willingness to sleep on the living room floor.

6. I am having two friends over today for lunch. In a stroke of hostessing brilliance, I made certain they both share a first name. This way there will be no awkward silences as all I have to do is say, "What do you think of that, Jill?" and suddenly two people will be speaking at once.

P.S. They're coming at noon and I have no idea what I'm serving for lunch... I wonder if this is somehow related to item #1??

Iowa

We thought it would be flat with nothing to see but farms and cows. How shocked we were that Iowa doesn't seem one-bit flat, and while there are farms, Iowa has a lot of cities. And the cows? We counted about 23.

Here's a conundrum for the week-end: why is Nebraska the cornhusker state even though Iowa produces more corn than Nebraska does?

Back to Iowa (or Iowas as I've typed it repeatedly already in this post.) Apart from the green and the corn and a state motto ("Our liberties we prize and our rights we will maintain"), there is something else very special about the state. It's where Jeannelle lives.

Jeannelle is a farmer, and a nurse, and a photographer, and a philosopher, and a mom, and a choir member, and a wife, and all those other things which might take up the rest of this post if I keep typing. But the label that trumps all those things is that she is a blogger. I don't remember how I first found her blog, but within a post or two, I knew that her blog had become one of my absolute favorites. Her blog has become so important to me that when she doesn't post, I miss her.

As Checkered and I began to plan this trip, I began to dream about visiting Iowa and Jeannelle. I was genuinely shocked when Google maps told us that the best route from Michigan to Kansas was through Iowa!!!

So in celebration of all her talents and wonderful posts, I asked Jeannelle to clear her calendar, get up quite early and drive an hour just to have breakfast with my four antsy children, my husband, and me.

Such a treat for Jeannelle, I'm sure!!

But you know what?

As much as I like Jeannelle the blogger, I like Jeannelle the person even more. I like her so much that I offered to adopt her and take her with us on the remainder of this road trip , but she said no.

If you're ever driving across the state which got cheated out of the cornhusker title, stop and meet Jeannelle. You'll love her demeanor, her goodness, her curiosity, her clever mind, and her gift for finding beauty in the details of life.

Iowa officials, you need a new motto (really, truly.) How about:

Life is beautiful in Iowa because Jeannelle lives here!

Just When I Think I'm Bored with Facebook

Sometime between Washington crossing the Delaware and Grant and Lee meeting at Appomattox, I worked at a college. It was small and had potential for greatness, and there were some wonderful faculty members and students. It had great location and community contacts, but things there were a little dicey. Crazy, really. There were undercurrents and overcurrents and swirling currents of unrestrained toxins which tainted most of the good things coming out of those hallowed halls of higher learning. *The writer can't decide if she should gag at the memory or gag at the trite expressions which have taken this post hostage.*

I did a mighty good job there in spite of the circumstances, but sometimes enough is enough and the day I walked out of there having tendered my resignation was joyful. I went home, gathered up my baby girl and was free of that terrible work environment and anything associated with it.

Somehow, the next 14 years moved quickly and when any thought of that yucky school arose, I just put my fingers in my ears and ignored it.

Then one night last winter, a friend request on Facebook forced me to think about that college. The request was from a co-worker from that horrible school. I've thought about her sometimes. I even referenced her here. It took me 3.7 seconds to accept that request (and that included the 3.6 seconds it took for the grumpy computer to wake-up and respond.)

That former co-worker and I met up last night. We commiserated about our former employer. We laughed. We shared pictures of our families. And we marvelled that if it hadn't been for Facebook, we would never have known that we both now teach at the same community college :)

Here's to regenerating old friendships.

IRL

A few weeks ago, I posted a link to Mrs. 4444's Friday Fragments. I love FF because it's perfectly okay to be completely ADD there. Random thoughts. Brief touch points. It's the perfect way to defrag the brain. But something pretty cool happened that week when another blogger commented on my post and thought maybe we lived in the same state. We did. In fact, we discovered that we live in the same county, the same school district, and just a handful of miles off the same main road.

Reading her blog, I began to think, "What an interesting person to get to know better."

Many of you have posted about how you have met fellow bloggers in person, and I've always wondered if I really would like to bridge that gap from cyber friend to real friend. Would I really like to befriend any person I happen to cross blogs with? Doubtful. My name really is Caution, you know.

But there was something so compelling about WON's story and the depth of her thoughts. So, yesterday, with the silly restaurant hostess "introducing" us, we met IN REAL LIFE.

What I learned is that WON is every bit as articulate in person as she is as a writer. I learned that she really does have a great mind and wonderful laugh. I learned that she has the loveliest of manners and graciously allowed me to talk beyond all logical time frames. And on top of all that, she's great at figuring out the tip!

Hey, WON, I 'm glad we live in the same state, county, school district, and off the same road. I'm thrilled that our blogs crossed paths. I'm relieved that you're not an axe murderer. But mostly, I'm just so delighted to think I have a new IRL friend.

A Taxing Decision

Let's just say you need a haircut. Let's just say your hair resembles something a first grade boy may have worn in 1985. And let's just say a stylist/new friend said she could help you out on a Sunday at your house.

Now let's get over your jubilation at her graciousness and your jubilation at the fact that someone whose hair always looks great is willing to make you look great, too.

Borrowed from: http://thecoloringspot.com/images/people/hair-stylist.jpg

As our little scenario moves forward here, let's think about how you remember a few minutes before your stylist/new friend arrives that she also is a professional house cleaner - and she's really good at that cleaning stuff. Then you think about how you're maybe not in the professional realm of cleaners and about how you're maybe not even an amateur cleaner.

Just as your stylist/new friend rings the doorbell, you look in panic at the condition of your house.

What do you do?

a) greet her outside and accidentally lock the door behind you?

b) accept that you will always look a bit like that first grade boy, circa 1985, and refuse to open the door even as your stylist/new friend rings and rings and rings?

c) hand her a blindfold and sincerely pray that she is great at cutting by touch instead of sight?

A Little Joy

My table has very low self-esteem. Dangerously low. It doesn't know who it is. Bed or table?
It frets about what others think of it. Is it pretty enough? Useful enough? Durable enough?

And it feels unloved sometimes.

But Marlene. Beautiful, lovely, clever Marlene loves my table.

And I love Marlene.

Facebook Has Its Way With Me

So I've been spending some more positive time with Facebook. At first, I was unimpressed because Facebook wasn't delivering much info to me. I had only found my own nieces and nephew and they weren't lost in the first place. It was fun to see their friends, I will admit. Then I began to find friends who live within in a five mile radius of my home. Our paths don't always cross anymore, so I balanced annoyance at Facebook with a very mild appreciation of it.

But now I've begun to find what I had really hoped to find. I've found a childhood friend. We moved a couple of times when I was a child. The first move was from New England to the Mid-West and then the Mid-West to the South. Then, for my undergrad degree, I went back to New England. For the two masters, I went to the South. For the doctorate I landed in the Mid-West. Since all that was prior to the internet and since I have never been a devoted letter writer, I've lost most everyone I knew prior to my current life.

So last night was huge when I found that childhood friend. And what I loved even more was that she was just as excited to find me. And the other day, I found a lost friend (who is only a year older than I am) who had been in my wedding. I was happy. I actually jumped up and down. And when my son asked, "You mean that old woman in the picture was once your friend?" I didn't even mind.