Living-Deliberately.com

Grocery day: I expected a harried pace, traffic, the rain, the baby to be sick from all the prunes he ate….we had an oil change, drama practice, and a puppet show thrown in.

I didn’t expect to nearly die. I’m still more than a little shocked at how close I came.

We’d finished the day, all but the co-op, and we were on Alcoa Highway on the way into Knoxville. It’s a busy, busy road; it has some kind of nickname like “murder mile” or something like that but the actual thing isn’t coming to mind. A white sedan and I were side by side, past the air port, past the exit for Pellissippi Parkway; I was listening to Dave Ramsey and pondering what a hard time it is to do ordinary household errands when it’s christmas-shopping season and one wants very much to give and buy the things their children would like to have but there are no resources to do so. A pity party of sorts…

It was a blue 4 door car; I’m bad with make and models, but it was new. She was a college student and talking on her phone. She wanted to pull across our lane of traffic to the center section to ultimately turn left. But she didn’t even look.

And she went so slow! I keep replaying it in my mind to see if it was just one of those “slow motion” reactions during a stressful situation but she really was not gunning it across those two lanes. It was almost laid-back and sleepy. Anyone with spatial skills at all could see there was no way she could make it across us before we hit that same point of the pavement.

Both the white car and I saw it at the same time. We were both going close to 60. The white car driver couldn’t swerve or she’d hit me and she didn’t seem to think the median was a choice. Maybe she just didn’t realize impact was inevitable fast enough. I pumped my brakes and got on the shoulder before the car before me rear ended my van and narrowly missed hitting the blue car’s tail end by doing so. The white car took the full, head on impact.

I saw the girl in the blue car realize she was about to get hit and I saw her face right after impact. Then my car was passed and I was shaking and realizing that the white car driver was probably dead.

That close. It would have been me or Andrew, who was in the front seat next to me. Our airbags would have gone off but then what? There were three other kids in the back on an extremely busy highway, with traffic behind slamming on their brakes.

I called 911 and then David and that’s when I started to cry. The police took my witness report and I saw that the white car driver was not dead on the scene but was seriously injured. The blue car driver was unharmed enough to be sitting up and I think I saw her talking.

One hair of a second’s difference. That’s all it would have taken and our lives would have changed forever, on the spot. I’m still kind of reeling, writing about it because I think maybe getting it out in print will help me process it.

My life didn’t flash before my eyes but my children did. Which is kind of the same thing maybe. I made them french toast when we got home and unloaded the groceries and they are in jammies ready for bed. Tonight’s a big cold front and there’s lots of wood stacked. I think that’s pretty much all I need.

SmallWorld Kicks Debt to the curb.

I’m not usually a “herd mentality” kind of girl. But if this is the kind of herd I’m in then I say, “bring it on!”. This is awesome! It’s such a blessing to have friends who understand the struggle and fight and instead of putting pressure on to “keep up with Jones’” and to buy the latest and greatest, know we’re all working to be FREE. It’s gonna be a BIG  PARTY when that happens!!! YA”LL GO!!!

“We’re going for a walk Mom!” That is what they said. It was an unseasonably warm day today, the sun was shining, they had on bright clothes (for hunters) and this new trail they’d found the other day, not far from the house.

“We want to show Wheaton the trail.”

Three hours later they weren’t home. It was an hour before dark and the sky was clouding for a storm.

I walked up the way they said they were doing, which conveniently provided a pretty clear view over about a half mile of the tracks, several fields and yards, and barren trees. I yelled and I whistled. No sound, no sign, no bike tracks.

When I got home it had been three and half hours. I knew they were far enough way to not hear me and it was a half hour before dark. I called David, who pretty much dropped everything and ran.

A neighbor who was walking called the Sheriff’s Office for us. And then it was amazing. Really, truly, amazing. People out here have their own police scanners and when a call comes out they flock to the scene. We had guys on four wheelers, police, and neighbors.

They found the kids on the way home, oblivious to the upheaval on their behalf. They’d found a rail tunnel, some water (they were all drenched and Celia had a towel wrapped around where her pants had once been) and several rocky trails to follow. One backpack missing, with one pair of jeans inside (the fact that they packed extra clothing, a towel, and apples of snacks lends itself to understanding they most certainly were NOT simply planning a little walk), is all that’s in the woods on this dark night.

They were kept safe from snakes, panthers, and coyotes. Injury. Who knows what kind of human threat could have been out there. The officers said, “we’ll uh…let you take care of these here children now…”. It was sort of an unsaid thing among every adult present that some discipline was about to be doled out.

Daddy marched them up to their rooms. He lectured and yelled and made them apologize. And then….

well I was lost in a swamp when I was probably just a bit younger than Wheaton. And David got lost in the woods at 11 and had the whole town looking for him. Somewhere in the  midst of all that lecturing he remembered what it felt like to be walking along, curious and feeling free until one moment you don’t know where you are, and it’s scary, and then you’re found and a bunch of people went out of their way to find you.

We just hugged them and fed them hot bowls of pea soup and biscuits. I need to post that recipe soon too because it’s the quintessential southern biscuit, flaky and layered and light. Drizzled with local honey over a schmear of yellow butter it pretty much can’t be beat.

I’m curling up with some chocolate if I can dredge some up, and some leftover Thanksgiving wine, and I’m going to rest knowing my chickens are all in the nest. Tomorrow’s grocery day so I won’t pretend it’s going to be quiet. Just gotta go with the flow….

Just still. I think writing a novel in such a concentrated amount of time, with plenty of real living thrown in between, leaves one with a kind of laryngitis of the fingers.

The book is called Pretty Maids All In a Row and is a story about cloned child. Actually, the child is not very prominent in the text; her mother became my surprise protagonist, her friend a surprise hero, and the two characters I thought would carry the story ended up in  a way I would have never predicted.

It’s cool that way, the momentum of a story taking over and writing itself. I’d never experienced that before. It’s challenging to write with a house full of family and a month with a major holiday but I feel somewhat better knowing it’s at least possible to do.

When I get my “voice” back I have a really cool site to share and my mind is already churning on a new project. I don’t know what Christmas is going to look like around here so that’s going day by day, which really isn’t a bad way to approach every day ‘eh?

This gazelle is taking the advice of others and parking her rear in the shade for a day or so.

But this little do hickey proves that I DID IT. I FINISHED the rough draft of a novel in ONE month! I’m too tired to say any more……….

Dave Ramsey talks about getting “gazelle intense”.

My gazelle is sweating and panting from bein’ so intense all the time. She’s been at this for a long time.
I wonder if the gazelle just sometimes dies. It seems sometimes that Lion is running awfully hard, ready to shred us into bits.

whole grain toast, spread with cream cheese (made from yogurt ala Nourishing Traditions), sprinkled with a mixture of sucanat (Rapadura) and cinnamon, and then topped with toasted pecans.

Simple goodness. After the decadence of feast days it’s nearly a relief to enjoy cups of chicken broth, lentil stew, and toast and coffee.

I’ve got a pound of twizzlers, Ben playing in the background, a cup of water and ice (for chewing) and I’m ready to go. The goal: 5K words tonight which will take me to a total of 10k for the day.

at least, he’s a fan in the early part of the book. Ben’s music would be a good soundtrack though for much of the story.

“Research”, oh such a dour word for what I spent some time doing this afternoon, led me to a new video of Ben’s from his latest album Both Sides of the Gun. The video is directed by Heath Ledger (yes that Heath) and is a beautiful depiction of the song Morning Yearning. Here are the lyrics for the video link already posted:

A finger’ s touch upon my lips
It’ s a morning yearning
Pull the courtains shut, try to keep it dark
But the sun is burning

Like a summer rose, i’ m a victim of the fall
But i’ m soon returning
Your love’ s the warmest place the sun ever shines
My morning yearning

It’s from an art fair website. I like the winter sky, the three-some companionship of the chickens and the dog, and I wonder what is on the person’s back. I’d love to see this one up close, really big.

I think the artist may be Hong Mao, and the painting part of an art show in Ann Arbor, MI.

The Monday After. Can it be anything other than a sort of tired sigh, a hot cup of coffee, and a return to a comforting-yet-transitory routine (since christmas is coming after all)?

It’s early yet. David had to be in early for the beginning of some kind of audit for an International somethingorother so we were up before the sunrise, but not before Hercules. He always beats the sun by about 30 minutes.

My brother in law was here this weekend, and I suspect one of the things he did to my computer is why I suddenly have spellcheck everywhere I go. So when I type “somethingorother” I get a ziggy red line. Oh, I got one on “ziggy” too. This means good stuff for those readers who get a little tingle up their back when my posts are fraught with “creative” spelling (read: I wrote it in a hurry; life’s busy.). For only on my most frantic of mornings can I let myself type past a ziggy line….

Father Stephen has good stuff this morning on icons and christians. And for those of you who like to think your beige church doesn’t use icons, take a look.

I’ve got 15k words to go before the end of the month with nanowrimo.  I have serious doubts that I can finish but this will be a superior test of my ability to prioritize. I’m tempted to think Christmas, to think Spring Garden, to think Goat Pen, and I need to think NOVEL. My main characters are both dead, my side characters have undergone major development, and a surprising protagonist has surfaced. I’ve got to go back and “pad” everything to get my word count. We’ll see.

No one sent me any stories of deliberate choices they’ve made so I’ve decided on a new idea heeee heeee ;-). I’ve got a little running list of people I know who’ve inspired me with their choices so I’m going to highlight one a week. If you are one of them, I’ll contact you first with permission to use your story.

G’Day Mates. (Did you know G’day isn’t a word according to spell check?!?)

• going to church Thursday morning was a great experience. It was beautiful and very calm, grounding, and contemplative way to begin a very rich weekend.
• Pasta, pesto, and red wine is a great kick-off meal for a crowd.
• We brined the turkey overnight in a cooler since it was cold enough outside and there was no room in the fridge. Very interesting experience! Besides the massive amount of kosher salt in the brine, I added a citrus blend of herbs. After 24 hours in brine, Tom Turkey (as we traditionally call the bird) got 12 hours to air dry in another cooler. We stuffed him with lemons, celery, and onions to roast him in and the result was an INCREDIBLY juicy and flavor-infused turkey. Never had anything close to it before.
• Sucanat/Rapadura is a wonderful substitute for white sugar in French Silk pie. I would like to find a less “pudding” recipe though.
• We had a family party for Celia’s 9th and Rowie-kabub’s 2nd.

• I am a bit embarrassed that I did not make a real cake; it’s nasty ice cream cake from the grocery store. I at least have a little nostalgia for a cold Pepperidge Farm cake from the freezer case but we’d cooked all weekend and I didn’t have more baking in the stuff I”m made from….so here it is, tons of crappy blue food dye and all. Kids didn’t seem to mind as much….

• We really had a ton of fun together, playing cards, playing games, laughing, cooking, eating, taking walks, and talking. I felt full and blessed that I was able to host this year!

• Since they left today, Andrew started the day constructing a suspension bridge from old toilet paper rolls and is now out side working on a stupendous tree house platform with the lumber Papa brought him. He’s got the ladder, the supports, and the decking all done. I’ll try to get a picture tomorrow…it’s truly amazing!
• We got the lights up on the front porch this afternoon but blew a fuse and need a new extension cord before we get to see them lit again…..it feels a little like Christmas Vacation….

It’s cold and clear and sunny and the smell of wood smoke is in the air: perfect weather for Thanksgiving!

We’ve got my sis and bil coming in tomorrow mid-day, Grandma and Papa by evening, and we’ll do dinner on Friday. With work schedules flexibility was necessary.

Our menu:

Turkey, dressing, gravy.

Mashed potatoes

Roasted root veggies

cran apple sauce (cold relish sort of dish)

Butternut puree

Spinach Pear salad

either green beans with almonds and bacon or green bean casserole

yeast biscuits

French silk and pumpkin pie

This year I’m going to brine the bird before roasting and roast the carcass before making stock. The biscuits, French Silk pie, and butternut dish are all new recipes.

We are slowly going about getting stuff cleaned up, not feeling in any particular hurry, and enjoying the cozy days. We’ll gather leaves for a decorating project later and make chex mix.

Tomorrow morning we are going to church, early in the morning, at St. Anne’s Orthodox.  I’m looking forward to starting my day with worship; it will be the first time we ever did such a thing on Thanksgiving and it feels excitingly appropriate.

If anyone wants to share what’s going on at their house, please comment or send links to your own blogs. I hope everyone has a blessed day, no matter how different they all may look!

THIS LINK

is for SK and her boy Corbin, who “experiments” with electrical outlets, nails, and paper clips and has blue eyes that melt mommy’s friends and aren’t much help when she’s trying to correct naughty behavior.

is for SS and her boy Duncan, who may “think outside the box”, er bowl, when it’s time to, well, you know, and many moms of boys do….one grin from him and how could anyone be mad at that face?

for JM and her boy Noah, who seems to be always dancing, smiling, skating, running, moving with a twinkle in his eye.

for CH and sweet baby James (and probably a few other little boys at her house) who isn’t really a baby anymore at all but who broke the mold when he came to be.

for SM, who posted the link first, who has risen to the challenge of raising children who are vibrant and exhuberant and though life could have become one long frustration, she’s turned it into an adventure instead.

For my friend KS and her Lydia. I am not even sure Kim will see this. But she said a couple of years ago: “This year our project is to learn how to best parent Lydia.” And she was their fifth.

and for so many others who may be slapped with negative labels like “hyper”, deficit this and deficit that. Who’ve put up with sighs and looks of pity from those who miss out on the absolute JOY these kids can be. Follow the link and be encouraged.

Last week a package came in the mail; a few scrapbooking supplies I’d ordered for the kids’ homeschool books. Thinking I have zero time for scrapbooking I set it aside.

My friend in Florida, who I’d ordered it from, called to ask me if the box smelled okay. Huh? I felt a little bad for having not opened it yet since she’d tried to get it out to be pretty quickly but we talked about all kinds of other stuff and the kids necessitated we hang up and that’s how that goes….

She called twice on the weekend to ask about a recipe but we were downstairs working on the floors and didn’t hear the phone. I was gone yesterday. Today I was going to call her.

I mailed my ebay stuff first and that box with my scrapbook stuff in it would fit just perfectly. I opened the box and…

found a THREE POUND BAG OF ORGANIC, RAINFOREST, SHADE-GROWN, CAFFINATED BLISS waiting in the box. My favorite, in absolute abundance. I don’t deserve how good she is to me. And I’ll think of her kindness every single morning with my most-awesome cup of freshly ground coffee!

Thank You Cathy. Your cryin’, caffinated, fully-awake and feelin’ loved friend, Tia