Balloon Bouquets

"Is it your birthday?"   "No.  Actually it's YOUR party."  That's how the conversation went ... on the first day I showed up with the balloons.

Funny, isn't it?  How balloons can turn even the grimmest day ... into a party.

Two days in a row, I showed up with the balloons.

A couple dozen or so tied with brightly colored ribbons.  Orange, green, pink, yellow ... spring colors ... guaranteed to catch your attention ... and to make you smile.

They floated gently to the ceiling of the tiny little space as we tied them into bouquets of two or three ... there was a lot of laughter ... as we anchored them around outside ... and left them to blow in the wind.

It was a good time ... in the midst of a not-so-good ... time.

On the second day, the balloons were different than the first.  Some were bigger ... some were smaller ... and a random array of colors ... balloons that we found in the bottom of a box under the counter.

Once again, tied with brightly colored ribbons.  And once again, filling up the tiny little space.

It was the day before ... the first day ... of what is coming next.  It was a day that simply had to be ... lived through ... as best as possible.

So the balloons were a nice touch.  It was fitting somehow.

As I was tying them into the bouquets ... on the second day ...  to once again spread around outside ... the cranky man appeared.

He really wasn't happy ... about much of anything.  And he seemed to think that it was his mission in life to spread his own brand of cranky around ... everywhere he went.

So he planted himself in a chair ... fully intending to wait.  I told him that was fine ... but that I intended to continue wandering in and out with the balloons.

He was fascinated with the balloons.  And it amused me greatly when he finally asked me if that was "what I did" ... if it was "my job" ... going around on Saturday mornings ... dressing up drab concrete & chain link fences ... with balloons ...

Later we laughed about that ... after the cranky man had come and gone ... and returned again even crankier than on the first visit.

Actually .. it was a great idea ... sad, though, that he didn't see the joy in it.

When I decided to finish up ... what was being finished up ... with the balloon bouquets ... I had no idea where to get the balloons blown up ... with helium.  A friend of mine gently slapped my hand ... because, duh?!?!  She blows up balloons every single day!

Haven't seen her in a while ... so the two early morning ballooning sessions ... were a bonus!

We chatted about life since last we had caught up ... about our children ... about business ... and relationships ... and healing.  The stories were personal ... the feelings real and genuine ... and we wondered aloud how it was even possible to go through life ... facing the struggles ... celebrating the victories ... in a partnership that didn't involve honesty, respect & a willingness to face the whatevers of life head-on ... together.

It was reassuring to me ... to have her remind me of the difference between "partnering" ... and "partnerships".  She blessed me immensely ... with her wisdom ... and encouragement.  And I bet she had no idea!

The first batch of balloons came from her inventory ... the second batch were left over from some previous events and reflected corporate colors.

There was one black one in the bunch.  As it inflated, she asked me if I REALLY wanted that one.  I said, Yep.  It's the lucky one!

Later in the day, I was asked if there was a reason why I put the black balloon ... and it's bouquet ... in such a prominent spot.  And again I replied, Yep.  It's the lucky one!

The day ended ... pretty much as expected.  The balloons didn't really make any difference in the outcome. One would un-tether from time to time ... and drift off on the breeze ... high above us ... dancing brightly ...

Reminding us that there's no way to discover what's coming next ... until we loosen the strings ... that are holding us down ...

Just now ... the whisper came ... Come on, MJ ... sing along ... "I got no strings ..."

And once again ... I am writing here ... heading to the predetermined punchline ...
only to be blindsided ...

Pinocchio.  One of my favorites ... how did I miss something so obvious ...

Floating test balloons ... waiting on Pinocchio ...

www.lifelessons-mj.blogspot.com
(c) April 2012

Game On

Today is the first day ... of what's coming next.  And it's also April Fool's Day.  Earlier this morning I found that thought amusing ... this afternoon ... it strikes me that it's something deeper ... and more fitting ... somehow.

A reminder that nothing is ever easy.  And I have to smile because ... well ... I have known that all along.

I was going to mow the grass today ... figured the soggy bog that is my yard would be dry enough to support the riding mower ... at least in the front yard.  Actually, I was looking forward to it.  A ride .. in the sunshine ... the smell of fresh cut grass ... and chance for a bit of pondering ... and a one-on-one chat with God.

Pulled up in the driveway after church ... glanced at the garage door ... and had to laugh.  I can't mow my grass today.  The lawn mower is being held hostage ... at the moment.  April Fool!

Then I decided the next best pondering therapy was going to be ... blogging.  Seems there is something weird going on with a bunch of stuff on my computer today.  I am hoping it's due to changes in facebook .. changes in blogger ... changes in the universe ... and not a problem with MY computer.

Anyway, my whole blog page was ... disrupted.  Some things were there ... others had randomly moved to the bottom of the page.  April Fool .. again!

And now, a couple hours later, after trying to re-design my page into something that I find pleasing and welcoming ... I am settling.  Surely, tomorrow or the next day the formatting tools will work in some logical fashion again.

Tired.  That's what I am today.  Mentally ... emotionally ... physically.

The last couple of weeks I have simply relaxed into the right now ... of things.  And haven't really given much thought to the consequences ... or the outcomes ... at least not where I am concerned ... of the time spent.


And on the ride home last nite ... I asked for some validation ... some positive reinforcement ... a sign ... that what I had offered had really been the best strategy.  It was an unseasonably warm March evening ... so warm that at 9 p.m. it was perfectly pleasant to be riding with the top down.

An odd harbinger of sorts.  Not typical weather.  Clearly indicating that change is in the wind.

As I pulled into the driveway, he raced towards me ... as if to welcome me home ... my little rabbit ... it's been months and months ... since I've seen him.  Surely it was a sign of hope.

This morning, I awoke with anticipation ... knowing full well I was going to be given something ... a little more definite ... to let me know if I have been on ... or off track ... the last week or so.

The box turtle in the middle of the road caught me completely off guard.  There's no way it's the same taunting turtle from my past ... too far from his home ... totally out-of-season ... he was paused there on the center line ... neck extended ...  unafraid.

"Way to go, MJ!" he seemed to say. "You're taking a chance ... you're making a difference!"

Then came the triple play ...  in Del's message this morning ...  The Land of Hopes & Dreams ... that's what he talked about ... backed up by a little Bruce Springsteen ... we all sang along ... we do things a little different at Grace Community ...

Reflect on who you are ... who you are becoming ... and who you want to be.

You have to take the time to look at yourself ... to see what the world is doing to you.

Find some people who will dream with you ... who will tell you how glorious life can be ... 

who will talk to you ... invest time in you ... to help you re-find your hopes & dreams.

Heal.  You have to take the time to heal.

And I am thinking to myself ... maybe, just maybe, I am getting it right ... touching a life ... making a difference. 

Del said he was going to tell a joke ... "This is a CPA" ... that's what he said.  Flustered & confused ...  Del corrected himself ... actually it's a "Corny Preacher Joke Alert" ... I forgot the "J" ...

No one else laughed out loud ... just me ... and my Best Friend, God, Creator of the Universe.

It was a private punchline ... an indisputable "AttaGirl!" ... you see, it isn't forgotten ... the "J" is  in the palm of His hand!

Life is hard.  And it can reach inside and grab your heart ... yank it out ... leaving you empty ... with no hopes and dreams.  Yet ... I still choose to believe in the possibility of happy endings.

Bases are loaded.  The batter is in the box.  

Swing ... Batter, Batter ... Swing!

www.lifelessons-mj.blogspot.com
(c) April 2012

Chopped Liver

Liver is ... well, let's just say it's not one of my favorite things.  The smell .. the taste ... it's pretty much repugnant to me.  To others, though, it's a delicacy.  A rare & wonderful treat.

A busy week, it was.  Jammed packed with meetings, activities, projects, work ...

Slice and dice.  Chop. Chop.

And it was a very good week!  Productive and full of new opportunities.

Grind. Grind. 

The week ended with plans to hang out with some friends ... with no objective ...
other than fun!

Sautee in schmaltz.

The perfect recipe for chopped liver.

Chopped liver is an interesting combination of ingredients.  Mixed together to create a unique taste.  No two batches are ever quite the same. 

Snobs call it ... pate'. 

Truth is ... chopped liver ... by any other name ... is still  ... chopped liver.

There are even recipes for "mock" chopped liver ... made from peas, eggplant, string beans, mushrooms.  But they are merely substitutes ... for the real deal.

Funny, isn't it?  People trying to make chopped liver ... into something that it's not.  Something that is more appealing to the masses, perhaps.  Instead of simply accepting that ... pate' ... isn't for everyone. 

A taste for it requires a discerning palate.  Like maybe, one in ten million ... really and truly ... like ... chopped liver.

Jessi had sent me a message on Thursday letting me know that "another t.v. dinner" wasn't really making her happy.   So I was looking forward to the weekend ... and to some Jessi-time.

With an impatient sigh, she informed me, "I'm busy this weekend, Mom.  I have PLANS!" 

And, truth was, she did.  A bowling banquet.  An early St. Patrick's dance.  Church.  Lunch with friends.  And some quality time with Donald.

Reality check.  She doesn't really "need" me anymore.  Her life is full and complete.  She just misses me when we're both busy for a number of days ... and we don't find time to connect. 

She's ALL GROWN UP now ... that's what she tells me.

And I am ... chopped liver.

It wasn't just that, though.  There were other things thrown into the mix.  Adding a little spice.  A little flavor.  For good measure. 

Most likely I was just tired ... when the reality of it all revealed itself.  It's not very often that feeling "unnecessary" gets to me.  I am pretty good at remembering that all of the hand-holding, lifting up, reaching out is sincerely appreciated ... even though not always acknowledged.

And, chopped liver isn't always appreciated either.  Hence the Jewish English phrase,
"So what am I, chopped liver?!?!"  It's an expression of frustration of being ignored on some social level.

That's what Wikipedia says.  An apt description of my feelings. It was also noted that chopped liver is rarely served as a main course ... generally it's a "side dish".  And that's how the "overlooked" meaning came into play ...

... a side dish ... quite possibly the most interesting offering on the table ... but never the center of attention.

BINGO!  

It is somewhat reassuring that, as usual, I was totally accurate ... and in context ... with my turn of phrase.  Interesting, though, that so many of my friends tried to take it ... and make it into something silly ... and dramatic ... and obsequious.

Traditionally, the liver & all of the other ingredients are sauteed in schmaltz.  That intrigued me.  "Schmaltz" was a phrase I had heard tossed around from time to time ... but had never really given a look-see.

Seems that schmaltz is rendered chicken, goose or pork fat.  The picture looks a lot like the lard that we used to pack around the sausage when Uncle Bill was alive.  The word ... and the image ... remind me of lessons learned there on the farm.  Somehow it seems to fit.

Here I am ... a week past the overlooked ... under-appreciated ... feeling.  Trying to clarify my chopped liver ...

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that "falling into the schmaltz pot" ... which is one way of describing the process for preparing truly delicious chopped liver ... traditionally refers to the concept of having something good happen to you.  Being smaltzy means that good things are often happening to you.

The smile was spontaneous ...  as the room filled with the sound of my best friend's laughter.  He so loves it when He sets me up ... for a good joke on me ... catching me offguard ... as He delivers the punchline.

Center-of-the-plate has never really been my style.  And I am content to be the most interesting ... rather than the most noticed. 

Good things are happening. 

Chopped liver.  Guess there a worse things I could be.

www.lifelessons-mj.blogspot.com

(c) March 2012