I MET LAURA BENNETT!!!

(Photo courtesy of ProjectRunway.com)

I met Laura Bennett! O.K. – if I were to be totally honest, I let my sister do the dirty work of accosting her in the airport and then came along after the deed was done. Never mind the fact that I was squealing silently (yes – such a thing can be accomplished) and almost jumping up and down when I first spotted her standing across the aisle from us. And forget about turning 40! The 18 year old in me is alive and well!

It was especially cool because Donna and I had JUST been talking about her. It was during one of our all day pajama sessions with the Food Network. Is it chemo's way of seasoning all real food to taste like metal or the new appeal of the sofa that has led to Donna’s addiction with FN? We aren’t sure, but I did tease her more than once about being masochistic.

The fact that I know who Laura Bennett is tells you something about me. Yes, I am a Project Runway freak. You may, a) get what I am talking about and squeal silently (or aloud), b) shake your head in disappointment at my obvious lack of class or c) be totally clueless. If you don’t know what I am talking about, I owe you at least that.

Project Runway is a show where “wanna be” designers compete in different challenges for the title of Top Designer and the chance to start their own label. For example, one of the challenges required the designers to make their design out of recycled products. I am willing to put up with the reality show “ick” to witness the thing I never grow tired of; one challenge having as many creative and unique outcomes as there are people involved.

I have to admit that in the end, the ‘reality’ part won out. At the airport, I told Laura Bennett that we had been cheering her on to win and she pumped her arm triumphantly. You see what I love about Laura Bennett, her designs aside, is her indomitable spirit. Just like my sister Donna who marched right up to her to introduce herself. And they say we gravitate towards the people whose traits we want to exhibit. I guess that tells you something else about me.

10,20,30,40...

Yesterday I turned 40. I am as old as my mother was when she gave birth to me. When I was 10, I bore that fact like a badge on behalf of my mother. I was really proud of her… having a baby at THAT age. It’s a wonder she didn’t disown me.

My teenagers gave me a little grief yesterday – but only a little. I don’t think they really think of me as old. Even if they did, I am happy to be where I am. I’ve challenged, fought and relented to the understanding that you don’t have to have it all figured out and that the best times are often the simplest times.

Like last night. The boys came to me with their gift; the gift of themselves. They had planned a whole night around things I like – a movie, candy, popcorn - and they would be a part of it all. Even if it was a chick flick! (A term I would have never let them get away with when I was 20 – and a term they, as they are approaching 20, graciously spared me from last night.)

It would take the entire lifetime that I have lived to reach the age my mother is now. That’s a lot of time. Even so, what’s left isn’t what matters. There was a 30 year old girl I once knew who wrote a song about what is really significant and important. Today. Nothing is worth more than it! So happy day to you – however many years you are.

(Photo is of my mother in January of 1967, two months before I was born.)

A LONG WINTER

I haven't really treated this blog as a journal... more of a place to post my writing - meaning only those writings that I am willing to share. Trust me. There is enough that I am NOT willing to share. My sister Donna has inspired me to tell a bit more of my story, a bit more frequently. You can see a link to her page in the LINK section (original - I know!). She is fighting breast cancer and tells it like it is. I've always admired her for being direct and squirm about it at the same time. Her heart baring honesty is a light on my own dishonesty and a smack upside the head to be more forthright. She has reminded me that God uses our brokenness to bring mending. Our raw, honest appraisals don't scare Him away, in fact - they are the best stuff to work with.

Donna says that I am an inspiration and like her, I find that appraisal hard to bear. As an artist who is supposedly 'out there' in front of people - it's tough to keep a reign on motives. Inspiration can quickly become a goal to pursue rather than a thing that happens because you are just being who you are created to be. Who you are created to be becomes mucked up in all the hype.

So here are some words I wrote when I was thinking about all these things.

Words
collapsing
tumble, thrumming
down the mountain
in a roar
left behind
a cloud dispersing
in its silence saying more
listen close by breathing deep
the grit that scrapes the back of throat
the mountain settles in my soul
a foothold on my every note

I hope to continue to post more in journal form on a more frequent basis!