just for fun

Women of Faith in Review

Went to Women of Faith this weekend. Someone didn't want us there. On Friday, the Rose Garden was evacuated due to a suspicious looking device in the bathroom and we were sent home. So then I scaled Marshall's for the perfect handbag and because there is no such thing, I escaped without spending a dime (thank goodness...cause I don't have a dime, right now!).

On Saturday, we returned early and stayed late to make up for the lost time on Friday. I listened to Sheila Walsh describe a time in her life when she discovered she was penniless. I can relate. Her husband had spent everything and used up her son's college fund as well as her retirement. She is still walking. With a smile. And she looks cute. I love having someone to look up to.

I heard Lisa Welchel (Blair from Facts of Life. I know...that was a reach into the past), talk about looking into a mirror and believing lies about ourselves. I can identify with her as well. Today in fact. I woke up ready to go to church and in 30 minutes had tried on almost every outfit in my closet and still felt ugly. My hair bugs me right now. My feet seem not to fit in any of my shoes. My pants are the wrong length. My sweaters are too hot. My t-shirts are too breezy. Oh dear. WHO CARES? Just get dressed and go to church! So I did.

I loved Lisa Harper. She is a single gal in her 40s and told some funny stories about her goats. She came on the stage singing and dancing to Beyonce and sang, "If you like it, then you shoulda put a ring on it!". I loved her. She told the stories of the four women mentioned in the lineage of Jesus in bible. She reminded us that all of them were imperfect. VERY imperfect, in fact. And God used them to help produce our Savior.

That is good news.

Women of Faith was good. My faith was strengthened. I didn't spend any money that I shouldn't spend. And, there wasn't a bomb in the Rose Garden. God is Good!

saving the roses

I saved the roses.

Well, four of them, that is.

A little over a year ago, I left my home and moved in with my parents. My home has now been foreclosed upon and although I was sad to lose my home, I was more sad about my roses. Years ago, I worked for Harry and David while in college. One month, our sales were pretty good and so Jackson and Perkins (a division of Harry and David) gave each of us 12 bare root roses. I planted them at my parents' house and would come home Fall and Spring to tend to them. I didn't bring them to our first home, an apartment in Newberg. I didn't bring them to the Bed and Breakfast that we ran. I didn't bring them to the next apartment in Newberg either. Nor, to the little carriage house on 9th street. I didn't bring them to our first house-home. It was a yellow ranch on 13th. I knew it was a temporary house.

I did bring them to Ida Street. I planted them. All of them. And then I had to leave them.

People would say, "What about your roses?"

What about them? I didn't have pots for them. I didn't have the energy or resources to bring them to where I am today. I was too sad to dig them up. I thought that house was going to be my home for a long time. I didn't realize that houses come and go. I knew it was bad timing to move them.

For some reason, in July, the week before it hit 107 degrees in the Willamette Valley, I knew that it was time. Thanks to a dear friend, who gave me 5 giant pots, I was ready to choose 5 specimens to come with me to my rental.

I knew it was too hot to move them. So, I chose wisely. I chose two peonies and 3 of my roses. Two of the roses were from Heirloom Roses in St. Paul. Three were from my Jackson and Perkins collection. I chose the ones with the healthiest leaves and the thickest canes. I chose the ones with the pointiest thorns. And then I pruned them down to 12 inch canes. It was exhausting. I broke down and cried in the backyard while I dug them out.

I didn't know what was coming.

107 degrees. I watered them three times a day and then I waited.

I wasn't expecting this.



One of the Heirloom ones didn't make it. It might be the yellow one that is the exact color of the roses in my wedding bouquet. Or, it might be the purple one whose heavenly fragrance seeps through the yard at dusk in the summer. I won't know that until next year. But this is truly remarkable. And, Leah...this is what God does for me to remind me that all is not lost. Blooms. After I cut them down to nothing. Blooms.

John 15:2 Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit.

Thank you, Lord. I am blessed.

experimenting with photoshop

i love how V and Co. puts captions on some of her photos with a translucent text box. So...I am experimenting with photoshop online.

i did it again

I got the brave idea to make eggplant curry with raita. Brave because eggplant doesn't look edible to me. Ever. I opened up my trustworthy Moosewood cookbook and got to task. I sweated and slaved in the kitchen with periodic niceties such as: GO OUT OF THE KITCHEN! DO YOU WANT ME TO BURN OUR DINNER?

I stir-fried the cumin and mustard seeds until they popped delightfully in a bath of butter. I dropped in perfectly cubed tender eggplant after waiting for the onions to turn translucent. I made rice. I grated fresh cucumber into a few cups of yogurt. The kitchen smelled heavenly. I was a chef once more!

I served the boys a plate and they came running in to see what was for supper. They looked at each other. My youngest brazenly wrinkled up his nose and scowled at me. My oldest only dared show a glimmer of disgust in his deep brown eyes. Other than that he braved it. First one bite then the look of nausea washed over him. My youngest protested loudly, declaring that he WOULD NOT EAT THIS PRESGUSTING DINNER (his word for disgusting).

Being a mom who wasn't going to fold after all of that cutting and stirring and watching and waiting. I told them to eat it or else.

A few moments later, I sat down myself and took my first bite. I anticipated the delicious tang of curry with the tender eggplant. The crunch of stir-fried seeds and the refreshing finish of the raita. Blech! Out it came! PRESGUSTING!!!!

My poor children. I just had shamed them into eating it, making them feel as though starving children in Africa would love to eat my eggplant curry. I think not.

So...into the trash it went along with my hopes of a Julie Child-ish experience and out came the Haagen Daz. Sadly, I've done this before. I pledge to taste what I serve to my family from now on. Forgive me.

This is the Umbrella

I spent much of a week under this umbrella. Heavenly, isn't it? Upside...no responsibilities, with girlfriends, Happy Hour daily from 2-4 and then 4-6 (I know, that doesn't make sense, but it was for two different bars), and lots of relaxation. Downside...me in a swimsuit, 105 degrees, me in a swimsuit. But it was delightful. I have a new appreciation for my hometown and realized that I can travel.

God is Everywhere

Today has been a busy day and while I was out picking blueberries, something Leah said to me last week popped in my head.

Leah: Tara, I want you to make a list of all the times in a day that you feel God.

It reminds me of a book that I had as a kid called, God is Everywhere by Barbara Burrows. It is a Hallmark book from 1968. It seems to be out of print and I have recently asked the publisher if I might post a few pages from the inside. The illustrations (by Mary Hamilton) are sweet, but the writing is wise.

I read it often as a kid and even wrote Tara + ----- inside the front cover. He was my first crush. You can see that I crossed that out later. Probably when I loved his brother, ---- instead.

So...I will make a list today. A list of the ways that I feel God's presence.

I hope I will get to show you the book because it is sweet. But for now you will have to settle with a picture of the evidence of my first crush!