Sometimes in life we know the direction we are going. Then there are the other times when a scarf is put over our eyes, we are spun, told to take a tail and pin it on the ass end of a donkey. I have always wondered why an ass? Now I think I know. Because we often make an ass of ourselves when we blindly go pell mell in a direction without giving it any thought. Have you ever thought about the number of times that we do a disservice to ourselves and others by refusing to take the time to stop, remove the scarf and giving ourselves the chance to acclimate to our surroundings? Let's face it the ass will always be there. But sometimes we wear ourselves out running after it instead of stopping and just looking at what we carry around behind us.
Copyright 1/29/07 Cheryl Dieter
Monday, January 29, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
Umbilical Cords
Ever since my son told me on January 9th that I am going to become a grandmother I have been thinking about umbilical cords. How they are in fact the pathway to life until one is able to burst forth and discover their own. And supposidly after birth that connection is severed. But is it?
The other night I was telling Dave that I had a pit in my stomach. That I felt something horrible was happening. Now at times when this has happened terrible things have happened. Sometimes they are just as I envision them but other times I get the message wrong. Like the time I thought my father was in the hospital because I thought he had been in an accident when he in fact was in the hospital for another matter.
So yesterday, I was feeling horrible. I knew something bad was happening but after a while I decided to ignore it and then I forgot about it. Turns out it was a problem with my oldest son and Dave said, " See you were feeling his pain." And I wondered. How do these things happen? Do we have some sort of invisable umbilical cord to our loved ones. And is love the nourishment that keeps it alive?
Okay goofy questions but what do you expect from someone so sleep deprived!
The other night I was telling Dave that I had a pit in my stomach. That I felt something horrible was happening. Now at times when this has happened terrible things have happened. Sometimes they are just as I envision them but other times I get the message wrong. Like the time I thought my father was in the hospital because I thought he had been in an accident when he in fact was in the hospital for another matter.
So yesterday, I was feeling horrible. I knew something bad was happening but after a while I decided to ignore it and then I forgot about it. Turns out it was a problem with my oldest son and Dave said, " See you were feeling his pain." And I wondered. How do these things happen? Do we have some sort of invisable umbilical cord to our loved ones. And is love the nourishment that keeps it alive?
Okay goofy questions but what do you expect from someone so sleep deprived!
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Funny things
I am exhausted but wanted to post some kid funnies.
Tonight was Winter Formal. Kylee had her hair and makeup professionally done. She looked absolutely beautiful. Her date for the dance came and brought her a wrist corsage and he had a lapel flower for his tux. Kylee was pinning it on him when Karson walks into the room and says, "Hey, are you going to marry my sister?" Well all almost died laughing!
Yesterday, Kullen says to me "I don't want to hang around like a picture."
Karson wanted me to get up and look for something he could not find and said," I am a playboy not a looker boy!"
You know sometimes it just amazes me that I have friends that are so awesome. Today several of them came to my rescue without being asked. They are precious and valuable. Each and every one of them. I feel so lucky to have such amazing people in my life. And they never would have been there if I had not adopted. So adoption has not just enriched my life by giving me the priviledge of raising some great kids it has also given me the support and love of some new friends that I treasure.
Tonight was Winter Formal. Kylee had her hair and makeup professionally done. She looked absolutely beautiful. Her date for the dance came and brought her a wrist corsage and he had a lapel flower for his tux. Kylee was pinning it on him when Karson walks into the room and says, "Hey, are you going to marry my sister?" Well all almost died laughing!
Yesterday, Kullen says to me "I don't want to hang around like a picture."
Karson wanted me to get up and look for something he could not find and said," I am a playboy not a looker boy!"
You know sometimes it just amazes me that I have friends that are so awesome. Today several of them came to my rescue without being asked. They are precious and valuable. Each and every one of them. I feel so lucky to have such amazing people in my life. And they never would have been there if I had not adopted. So adoption has not just enriched my life by giving me the priviledge of raising some great kids it has also given me the support and love of some new friends that I treasure.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
The Peeker
Since this is my first post I think I will leave you with a little story that I wrote and then read on Iowa NPR. I hope you enjoy it. Love you and miss you Grandma.
This story was inspired by Dave's 92 year old Grandmother. While I have taken some liberties with the content of this piece, the gist of the story remains true to Grandma.
THE PEEKER
By Cheryl L. Dieter copyright 2000
Looking at her you would never suspect she was capable of such deeds. A silver-haired Iowa woman of great style, impeccable manners, and a great-grandmother of five; you normally don’t expect someone her age to be one. It is usually the young, cherub faced child that succumbs to the temptation, not the "little old lady" gnarled by arthritis who is afflicted with "sticky fingers". But, alas, a "sticky fingered" peeker she was.
It all started several years ago during the holiday season. Unable to make it home for Christmas, we decided to send my husband’s 92-year-old grandmother a box which held twelve presents representing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Labeling each present with a particular number, Grandma was instructed to open each on the prescribed day.
Things went well the first couple of days. "I love the soap. It smells so nice, like my Grandmother’s own rose garden," she would exclaim in delight.
It wasn’t until the third day that things began to seem amiss. "The candle looks so nice in the living room," she said. "It matches the color of the walls."
Odd, I thought. The candle was gift number seven. Oh well, maybe she just slipped up and opened it by mistake. Just in case, I reiterated that she was to open each gift on the day marked. For safe measure, I asked with the sternest voice I could muster, "You’re not peeking, are you Grandma?"
"Who me," she laughed. "You don’t really think I am capable of such a thing, do you? Why, Santa’s been coming to my house for 92 years because I’ve been such a good girl. I’m sure he wouldn’t come and visit me for Christmas if that were so. No, I wouldn’t dare chance such a thing, would you?"
Somewhat reassured I was relieved when day four came and went without a hitch. She loved the little silver bell engraved with the names of the grandchildren that would eventually become the centerpiece of her collection.
Day five arrived cold and bright. "I really love the bedside light," she said with glee.
Strange, I thought. I’m just sure that light was day eleven’s gift. Obviously, a gotcha plan was in order.
The next day I called her and casually asked, "So, how did you like the scarf we sent?"
"Oh, it is so beautiful," she replied. "It reminds me of all of the colors of fall."
Thoughts swirled around in my mind. The scarf was present number ten but today was day six. It just didn’t make sense ...and at her age. She wouldn’t ... she couldn’t... but indeed it appeared that... Grandma was a peeker!
"Grandma," I exclaimed. "You’ve been peeking haven’t you. There’s no sense denying it. Today’s present was suppose to be picture of our family. I’ve caught you with your hand in Santa’s cookie jar."
"Oh, all right. I guess I must confess," she said with a sigh. "I’m a peeker. But what do you expect? I’m 92 and may not live long enough to open all these gifts. It would be a terrible waste of your time and money if I didn’t get to enjoy all of this. But don’t worry. After I opened all the presents that first day, I wrapped them back up so I could surprise myself all over again. At my age my memory is not as good as it used to be so I get double the joy; two presents for the price of one you might say. You should be happy that I’ve had this much fun. Why, you can’t even tell that the paper has been unwrapped and the tape has been moved. Besides, it’s kept me off the streets and I’ve done a pretty good job if I do say so myself."
So to all you shoppers out there who are giddy with anticipation of the forthcoming holiday season, I have a bit of advice. Double wrap and use double-sided tape in order to lift the fingerprints of your own potential peeker. For you just never know what form they will take or where they might lurk.
Gotcha!
This story was inspired by Dave's 92 year old Grandmother. While I have taken some liberties with the content of this piece, the gist of the story remains true to Grandma.
THE PEEKER
By Cheryl L. Dieter copyright 2000
Looking at her you would never suspect she was capable of such deeds. A silver-haired Iowa woman of great style, impeccable manners, and a great-grandmother of five; you normally don’t expect someone her age to be one. It is usually the young, cherub faced child that succumbs to the temptation, not the "little old lady" gnarled by arthritis who is afflicted with "sticky fingers". But, alas, a "sticky fingered" peeker she was.
It all started several years ago during the holiday season. Unable to make it home for Christmas, we decided to send my husband’s 92-year-old grandmother a box which held twelve presents representing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Labeling each present with a particular number, Grandma was instructed to open each on the prescribed day.
Things went well the first couple of days. "I love the soap. It smells so nice, like my Grandmother’s own rose garden," she would exclaim in delight.
It wasn’t until the third day that things began to seem amiss. "The candle looks so nice in the living room," she said. "It matches the color of the walls."
Odd, I thought. The candle was gift number seven. Oh well, maybe she just slipped up and opened it by mistake. Just in case, I reiterated that she was to open each gift on the day marked. For safe measure, I asked with the sternest voice I could muster, "You’re not peeking, are you Grandma?"
"Who me," she laughed. "You don’t really think I am capable of such a thing, do you? Why, Santa’s been coming to my house for 92 years because I’ve been such a good girl. I’m sure he wouldn’t come and visit me for Christmas if that were so. No, I wouldn’t dare chance such a thing, would you?"
Somewhat reassured I was relieved when day four came and went without a hitch. She loved the little silver bell engraved with the names of the grandchildren that would eventually become the centerpiece of her collection.
Day five arrived cold and bright. "I really love the bedside light," she said with glee.
Strange, I thought. I’m just sure that light was day eleven’s gift. Obviously, a gotcha plan was in order.
The next day I called her and casually asked, "So, how did you like the scarf we sent?"
"Oh, it is so beautiful," she replied. "It reminds me of all of the colors of fall."
Thoughts swirled around in my mind. The scarf was present number ten but today was day six. It just didn’t make sense ...and at her age. She wouldn’t ... she couldn’t... but indeed it appeared that... Grandma was a peeker!
"Grandma," I exclaimed. "You’ve been peeking haven’t you. There’s no sense denying it. Today’s present was suppose to be picture of our family. I’ve caught you with your hand in Santa’s cookie jar."
"Oh, all right. I guess I must confess," she said with a sigh. "I’m a peeker. But what do you expect? I’m 92 and may not live long enough to open all these gifts. It would be a terrible waste of your time and money if I didn’t get to enjoy all of this. But don’t worry. After I opened all the presents that first day, I wrapped them back up so I could surprise myself all over again. At my age my memory is not as good as it used to be so I get double the joy; two presents for the price of one you might say. You should be happy that I’ve had this much fun. Why, you can’t even tell that the paper has been unwrapped and the tape has been moved. Besides, it’s kept me off the streets and I’ve done a pretty good job if I do say so myself."
So to all you shoppers out there who are giddy with anticipation of the forthcoming holiday season, I have a bit of advice. Double wrap and use double-sided tape in order to lift the fingerprints of your own potential peeker. For you just never know what form they will take or where they might lurk.
Gotcha!
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