Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God's kindness: kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile. ~ Mother Theresa
This photo just speaks to my heart. The connection between MT and that child, how soothing and joyful her look . . . what food for the soul. (I'm pretty sure it was special for the baby, too.) I could stare into this photo for hours; it fills my heart.
Mother Theresa resigned from her teaching job and devoted her life to serving the poorest of the poor at age 38. For me, what is most inspiring about Mother Theresa is that she spent all of her adult life grieving the alienation she felt from her Lord. At the age of 12, she felt a strong calling to missionary work. All her life, she waited and pleaded for another moment of such grace, such connectedness with her God; that moment of grace never again came.
She served in the darkest corners of this earth every day of her life, until she died at age 86.
I signed myself up for a little class on de-stressing. It was just a single session thing offered through the county. Heaven knows I could use help in de-stressing lately. What did I have to lose?
So I walk in and am greeted by an apprehensive-looking woman who reluctantly informs me that the class has been canceled due to lack of enrollment.
And not even an apology.
To say I was aggravated is an understatement. This is not the first time the county has canceled programs I've enrolled in at the last minute, and I was really looking forward to this one.
She and I had a little discussion exploring the business practices of alienating the little business one does actually have left. Her uninterested gaze reminded me that I was not dealing with a business person, I was dealing with a bureaucrat. So I ended the discussion and left.
Onc my way home, I spent a little more time dwelling on the situation.
And I had to laugh.
Imagine being in that woman's shoes.
Having to cancel a class at the very last moment like that.
And not any class, a stress management class --
to a stress case.
No wonder she looked so apprehensive.
Maybe I didn't get the worst part of that situation this morning.
Today is the feast of St. Michael the Archangel (Michaelmas).
Legend has it that St. Michael is responsible for driving the devil out of Heaven, wherein he landed in . . .
A blackberry bramble! Ooooch!!
And he was maaad!
So according to an old Irish folk tale, blackberries should be harvested and used up by this date, because the devil returns each year to find, curse, and spit on the fruits of the plant he landed on, rendering them inedible thereafter. So use them up!
Sounds like a good of a reason to make a quick blackberry cobbler as any, so here is a good recipe.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C). Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil.
In a large bowl, mix the flour, 1/2 cup sugar, baking powder, and salt. Cut in butter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in 1/4 cup boiling water just until mixture is evenly moist.
In a separate bowl, dissolve the cornstarch in cold water. Mix in remaining 1 cup sugar, lemon juice, and blackberries. Transfer to a cast iron skillet, and bring to a boil, stirring frequently. Drop dough into the skillet by spoonfuls. Place skillet on the foil lined baking sheet.
Bake 25 minutes in the preheated oven, until dough is golden brown.
This recipe is from AllRecipes. com, but I can personally vouch for it, except I usually substitute freshly ground nutmeg for the cinnamon and get a splash of vanilla in somewhere.
So there you have it.
I think I may make a batch of fresh vanilla ice cream to go on top while I'm at it.
1. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday. I have big holes in my life right now.
2. If you could wake up tomorrow with a new talent, what would it be? Sewing, I think. All my life, my mother wanted me to take sewing lessons. As a child and a teen, I could think of nothing more boring, but I should have listened to her.
3. Who is someone you would like to go back into your past and talk to and why? My grandmother. I miss her, I need her support and love, and answers to questions.
4. What is your favorite meal eating out? Oh, I don't know. We're pretty casual right now. A good fish & chips, maybe. Or a big cheesy pizza with all the time in the world.
5. Do you feel energized or drained by being in a group situation? Usually energized, assuming I know the people well. If they are new to me, or I to them, then I retreat a bit.
6. What word do you use far too frequently? I am ashamed to say, I still say, "Cool." It sounds really, really stupid coming from me at this point in my life . . . but I grew up saying it and it has been really hard to stop. Besides that, probably "absurd." I am finding a lot of absurdity in the world right now, aren't you?
7. What’s a word you’ve invented? Can't tell you until the patent comes through. ;)
9. What is your absolute favorite piece of furniture you have and why? I have an art deco dressing table. It is covered entirely in beveled mirrors, with bakelite handles, three-piece mirror, and mirror-covered bench. I love it, because I like to dream and muse about who got dressed at that table when it was new, what did the room look like, where she was going, what kind of make-up did it hold, what kind of jewelry? I could spend days musing about that. Unfortunately, a small corner got broken in our last move. Anyone know of a way to restore old piece like this? Do restorers replace old mirror with old mirror? The few I've talked to don't have any ideas.
Right now, I'm not in a mind to conjure up anything new to write about, so I thought I would repost something from last year at this time. Since my blog had fewer than 20 followers then, it will be new to most all of you. . . Here goes:
I lose a little more respect for my family each time I clean out the refrigerator.
Who lives like this? Who?
Are we a pack of raccoons?
Who saved all this stuff? And who wasted all this stuff? For example, not one, but two jars of applesauce-- moldy? Two?? One is bad enough, but two?
And who bought the tube of pesto? A tube. Of pesto. We're more of a "pour and go" family. Jars. I buy toothpaste in tubes and that's about it. And bigger tubes than that.
And all those little ketchup and mustard packets? Do we really think we're going to use those? We're really going to dig those out from under the giant ketchup bottle that rests on top of all those pitiful, little packets? Sure we will. And how did those get in there in the first place? Perhaps they spawned from the ketchup and mustard bottles, together, right next to each other. I don't know.
All questions for minds quicker than mine.
And here's another one . . .
How does all that lint get in there? Who is changing their clothes in the refrigerator!?
That's not that far-fetched, you know. The smell that prompted this latest cleaning tirade conjured images of my son's wadded up socks smoldering in the lettuce crisper.
“Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, ‘In this world, Elwood, you must be...’ - she always called me Elwood - ‘...in this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant.’ Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.”~Elwood P. Dowd in Harvey
I am a stay-at-home mom who is coming to grips with the fact that my children are growing up, and that is bitter sweet. I have several pets who understand me including a couple dogs, some beautiful pigeons (yes, pigeons), some chickens who boss me around, and a mourning dove who I believe is God's little whisper to me from heaven. I was a lawyer before I got really serious and became a mom. I love to knit, write, cook, and to take good care of my family. We struggle with my daughter's Reactive Attachment Disorder, and hold hands very tightly sometimes while we withstand the high tide of her challenges. Through it all, I am blessed to have a husband who is the corner piece to my puzzle.