Easter 1966

Here's the thing. That's me with my Mama and my dog Polly. If you look closely enough you'll see my sister, Elaine horsing around in the back. Please note the Princess Leia hair-do. Mom was so creative. George Lucas consulted her about Princess Leia's hair. Mom did it first. BTW, check the gams on my mother. I remember the day my father took the picture. I was only smiling becuase the sun was bright. Yet, as I think back I'm pretty sure I insisted on the yellow dress from JC Penney and matching yellow socks. Hey, it was Easter and we were on our way to church.I look like a daffodil.

Sprouting Crab Apples

Here's the thing, I don't think I talked about this but the season of Lent was always kind of a mystery to me, something that both amused and mystified me as I
considered it one of the deeper aspects of faith. But it also came across to me as something trivial as I remember watching my playmates as a child claiming to give up sweets or meat on Friday or to stop punching their little sisters. It just seemed silly. But over the years I've come to see Lent as a deeply personal time and one in which I can devote a portion of my life directly to Jesus by sanctifying some aspect of myself. Well this year I decided to give up my negative thinking, something I am prone to fall into quite easily—usually it has nothing to do with anyone else, just myself. I am a worrier, a brooder. I tumble headlong into days of near despair over who I am and where I'm going and even where I have been. Well this is not what God wants for me. God wants me to be alive and vibrant and eager to face each day. So I have been working on the notion of taking every thought captive. That means to take the negative stuff that comes my way and shining the light of truth on it—God's truth. So when my heart condemns me I can say that in God's eyes I am his radiant daughter. So, how's this going for me, you might ask.
It's been up and down. I have had some real success with turning my thoughts over to God, setting them at the feet of Jesus and training, sometimes forcing myself to think in another direction. And it's been awesome. I tend not to wallow as long in the muck as I used too. Then there are the days when I can't seem to stop the downward spiral and I ponder all sorts of negative thoughts. I worry. I brood. I complain and am altogether totally unthankful for the goodness in my life and for that I need to confess and move on. It's as simple as that, my friends. Take it to Jesus and let him do the rest.
On the flip side is that taking every thought captive also reveals some ugly truths. One of the most hideous that God's light has uncovered these past few weeks is my tendency toward jealousy, coveting what other people have and not being satisfied or content with who I am and yes, what I posses. I have been jealous of what other people own and how many books they've sold. How silly is that? But I suppose that's the pruning that Jesus talked about. He needs to cut those branches of jealousy from me so I can grow better branches, healthier branches and hopefully bear fruit that is pleasing to him. Little green crabapples do not make Jesus glad.
So there you have it, my Lenten Special. Think good thoughts. It works.

Not Your Granny's School Lunch

Here's the thing, every so often I have lunch duty at school. It's fun. No really it is. I enjoy spending time with the kids, opening their milk and Gogurt yogurt containers and having it spurt across the room or onto my shirt. I enjoy lifting the lids from small cups of fruit filled to the brim with juice that always, always, always spill all over the place. (Note to manufacturer: Please don’t fill the cups to the brim. It's messy.) I like cleaning up spills and vomit. Okay, not vomit—too often, but it does happen.

School lunches have changed over the years, although much has remained the same. Industrial tomato sauce is still industrial tomato sauce. And it smells exactly the same way it did when I was in elementary school. Peanut butter and Jelly is the number one bagged sandwich. Pizza is still on the menu and yes it does come with a side of veggies. In my day the vegetable of choice was a disgusting plop of spinach that didn't even look like spinach, the green was all wrong and the juice ran into my pizza crust and I just couldn’t eat it after that. Now, the kiddoes get a choice of carrots or apple slices conveniently served in a small plastic bag thus removing the threat of any cross food contamination. They get really swell French fries and salads with what I am told is the best dressing in the world. I'm not a salad dressing fan myself. Hotdogs, fruit cups and their choice of chocolate or white milk or bottled water even.(Yes, BOTTLED water) At least once a month the cafeteria serves breakfast for lunch. How fun is that? French toast sticks and I believe it's a sausage patty on the side. Bagels and Philly cream cheese. We never had that. Nope, it was pretty much mystery meat in slimy, gristle-filled gravy that tasted like wallpaer paste with brown food coloring. Nowadays kids are offered cheese steaks and hamburgers, Jello and I swear I saw cheese cake once or twice. Of course ice cream for dessert and not just a popsicle. Nope, they even get Snickers ice cream bars. Sheesh.
Today the main lunch offering was meatball subs. Rebecca, she's the other lunch aid, thought it looked and sounded so good she got the platter: a meatball sub in famous Philly bread, French fries, apple slices, milk and of course ice cream.
All for $3.50. Doesn’t that sound good? It tasted great too. That's the actual sub in the picture. So there you go, today's lunch –I think I'll continue the conversation tomorrow. Until then think about this. How important was school lunch when you were a kid? Oh, and just a note to parents: your kids tell the lunch aids EVERYTHING!

What Does Emily Dickinson have to do with Final Fantasy?

Here's the thing—it wasn't what I expected. I went to the midnight store opening Monday night/Tuesday morning to purchase my copy of final Fantasy XIII. I had hoped that there would a large turn-out of gamers and that some would be dressed as their favorite FF characters. But alas and alack I saw no Moogles, no Cloud, no Sephoroth, Fran or Tidus. Just folks, just plain folks out at midnight to get one of the most loved fantasy RPG's of all time. Okay, that's my opinion but I think it's pretty accurate. My daughter Emily went with me because she also was hoping that the freak population of Havertown would be there. There was a line and we stood in it for maybe six minutes until I got my hands on my sweet copy. Guess what. I haven't even installed it to my XBOX hard drive yet. I've glanced through the strategy guide but I still haven't played it and it's been mine for almost twenty-four hours now.
So, why? What is it? It's a little like what I mentioned in an earlier post how anticipation can be your enemy. How waiting for my oral surgery nearly drove me nuts. How it heightened my anxiety level. But now, now I am experiencing oral surgery anticipation's twin sister—the good side of anticipation, sweet agony. There is something very visceral and alluring about seeing the game sitting here untouched, un-played and yet knowing that soon, probably as soon as I finish this post I am going to pop it into my system. I like the wait right now because it fills me with wonder. Does that make any sense to anyone?

Emily Dickinson understood this when she wrote:

Before the ice is in the pools
Before the skaters go,
Or any cheek at nightfall
Is tarnished by the snow.
Before the fields have finished-
Before the Christmas tree
Wonder opon wonder –
Will arrive to me!

Anticipation--It's making me crazy

Here's the thing, I am supposed to be editing Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise and/or writing Griselda Takes Flight but I wanted to talk about oral surgery, seeing how it is so fresh on my mind. My husband was supposed to take me Monday evening but he got stuck on a job. Now the old Joyce would have seized this opportunity and cancelled the appointment but, and you'll be so proud of me, I called my dear sweet friend Rebecca and without a moment's hesitation she said, "Sure, I'll be right there." What a pal! So she arrived a few minutes later and off we went. I was freaking out about the appointment and immediately instructed Rebecca on what to do in the event of my dental-induced death. She agreed to destroy my computer and journals and to take custody of my original Smurf art cell.
We arrived, on time and I entered the building—dead woman walking style. Luckily there was a very nice couple there waiting and they cheered me, the reception ladies were kind and happy and reassuring and yet I felt my heart beating like a big brass drum and my toes curled in my Chucks. A few minutes later, Maria, the surgical assistant came out and said, "I just need four minutes to get the room ready." Yikes. I still had time, the door was right there, I could scram! Run, Joyce! Run!
Fortunately, I think Rebecca would have tackled me if I tried to escape.
And so the march began. Maria came and got me and after a quick hug with her last patient I went down the hall and into a small room. For some reason my mind flashed on the Bugs Bunny episode when he floated into the Mad Scientist's lab and the Mad Scientist wanted to put Bug's brain into a big, orange hairy monster. That didn't happen. I took the chair and met the nicest, kindest most awesome oral surgeon on planet earth—Dr. Bianchi. He explained the procedure, patted my hand and smiled. "How long will this take?" I asked. "Eight minutes," he said. "Really?" I said. "Okay," Dr. Bianchi said, "seven minutes."
No kidding folks, I was numb and out of there in seven minutes. He was incredible. I'm a little sore today and I still haven't eaten any real food—couple of milkshakes and some mashed potatoes. But I'm on the mend. So, here's the thing, anticipation. That's the real enemy folks. Anticipation is what gets to you. It's no good, it just makes you expect the worst and get all that adrenaline coursing through your body for no good reason because most of the time the things we fear never come near.