It's a Puzzle

It is puzzling to me that one of my favorite (although not frequent) ways to entertain myself is by working puzzles...often while watching a sentimental movie I have memorized going in the background. I usually find time for it on holidays or when members of my family are visiting who share my fetish for the sport. I suppose I love it because I have such happy memories of working puzzles with my mother, sisters, and children... perhaps my love for spending time with them spilled over into the puzzle box. And most of my children love puzzles because my mother spent hours with them working puzzles nearly every time they were together. It is such a nice time to indulge in small talk and for sharing good laughs. I love to buy a new puzzle, but they are getting harder to find. I'm picky about my puzzles, you see. They have to have a lot of different things going on...none of this half the picture being blue water and the other half being blue sky nonsense. Not too small, not too big, not too ugly, not too "all the same," not too hard, not too easy. Hmmm, no wonder they are hard to find. My niece, Amy, recently bought me a wonderful puzzle...it was a picture of many kinds of chocolates...how could we improve upon that?



We have some funny memories of Eric hiding one puzzle piece in his room so he could put in the last piece, Grandma lifting her arm and having five pieces stuck to it, looking up and realizing it was indeed 2 a.m., and recently, having Mark find a piece in the garage that belonged in the puzzle we were working.

I've decided there are two kinds of puzzle workers. The first type works mostly by shape and color. These are usually the puzzlers who like to complete the outside edge first and work on little sections of the puzzle that eventually flow together.

Then there is the "big picture" puzzle worker who picks up a piece, examines the picture on the box, and finds the minuscule hole to drop it into.

I am a shape/color person. My husband is a big picture person. You know, we approach nearly everything in life from those perspectives. I work on life one ridiculous detail at a time...and he sees nearly everything from a more global perspective. That is why he is so good at planning solution strategies for large telecom companies, and I'm good at knowing which socks belong to whom.

We make a great team. That isn't much of a puzzle at all.

Vicki Jeanne Porter

I guess people come into our lives for a reason. Vicki came into mine for lots of reasons, I think. She was just what I needed, just when I needed it.

We emailed. My husband thought it was hilarious that we lived about 1/4 of a mile apart, but did we pick up the phone? No. Did we run over to each other's house for a chat? No. We sat down at the computer and quietly supported each other. She was so much better at all the technological computer stuff, but she was so patient with my ignorance. I never did get the hang of attachments...

We went to lunch. What is it about going to lunch with a friend? It was...priceless. So many good times and happy memories. And coupons for new places out of the newspaper.

We laughed. Almost every one of her entries had at least one comment that made me *LOL*. And sometimes I really needed that after a long day.

We rolled our eyes. Life is just ridiculous sometimes and we made the most of that. It is funny when you know somebody well, how a little roll of the eyes in their direction across the room can communicate volumes. It makes me giggle just thinking about it.

We learned new things. Like she taught me the meaning of the word *shattered.* (That is when you are really, really tired.) And *scattered* is just a little bit before you are shattered. And she taught me that the VF Mall is called the VF Mall because it is the Very Far Mall.

She liked Bashas. I like Frys. She loved computer games. I don't. (Probably because she could beat them and I can't.) She liked Victorian, I like Traditional. She liked beige. I like red. Did it matter? No.

We kept in touch. I'm so grateful.

VJ left me a great friend's legacy. She was a dedicated mother. Nothing came before her family. She taught me about keeping on keeping on and hanging in there. She taught me about doing hard things. She taught me about love unfeigned and unconditional acceptance. She called me Clee. Nobody else on earth calls me Clee.

I'm not ready to let her go. Do you think there is email in heaven?

Christmas Eve

I remember when I was a little kid anxiously anticipating Santa's arrival, I was laying in my bed, unsuccessfully trying to sleep. I finally dropped off, only to be awakened by the sound of jingle bells outside. I stood up on my bed and looked out the high window, and honest to goodness, I saw reindeer and an empty sleigh on the snow-covered grass (we had no fireplace, so we knew Santa came in through the front door). Somebody want to explain that vision to me? The power of suggestion is indeed strong, especially in those who have "the sleep genes" which are legendary in our family. (Someday soon I will have to do a post about the sleep genes. We have some hilarious stories.)

The gifts are wrapped, (miraculous...I often wrap everything on Christmas Eve after the kids go to bed), the jammies and ornaments are opened, the living room is vacuumed (now there is an exercise in futility), the stockings are ready to fill, and the luminarias are flickering up and down the street. I heart Christmas.

Merry Christmas to all...and to all a goodnight.

Merry Christmas to Me

I got a wonderful early gift on November 30, 2007. My newest grandson, Gavin Drew Bartle arrived a little early but weighing in at 8 lbs. 11 oz. and measuring 22.25 inches long! Healthy baby, healthy mom, cuter than all get out and lots of blond hair. What more could we ask? I got to spend a few (too few) days in Oregon with him and feel beyond blessed. How lucky can one granny be?

Welcome Home!

I'm really slow getting this posted, but yes, folks, he is home! He is just the same only better, and we love, love, love having him here. We feel so blessed. Well done, ED... you set the bar so high and soared over it. Welcome Home!

an/ti/ci/pa/tion

While everyone else in these United States is anticipating Thanksgiving on Thursday, we will not be eating turkey or any of the usual things. We are running/walking in the turkey trot, heaven help us, and if we survive, we will most likely be trying to finish all the as-yet-undone tasks related to a most anticipated homecoming. Friday is the day, folks, and if I am not mistaken, that is a mere five DAYS away! I will miss weekly emails, wonderful reports of miracles in Mongolia, and the many blessings attendant to having a son in the mission field. These will be eclipsed, however, by the hugs, the personal stories, the privelege of looking at a face we haven't seen for these many months, and the hilarious presence of our own family spark plug. Hooray for reunions, family coming to town, and turkey on Saturday.

Finally

It is embarrassing to have a blog and go so long between postings. You'd think life would slow down just a little, but no, it doesn't.

I've learned a few things over the last few days.

a. There is no end for the need to paint. Ever.

b. Painting causes huge disruptions in the flow of life.

c. All that being said, I LOVE paint. What could be more satisfying than covering up all those fingerprints, smudges, and tired old walls?

And a few more related things learned.

d. By nature I love being organized and clean. Unfortunately, by habit I let things beyond the surface go and pursue more enjoyable adventures.

e. None of it goes away. Dust mulitplies like coat hangers and single socks. Piles become mega-piles.

f. It is still hard to throw some things away, like my kids' toys. What if the grandkids would enjoy them? Lincoln logs, anyone?

g. Hm. Maybe my offspring take after me. That might be why I just hung 43 t-shirts in Eric's closet.