Sunday with Karen and the kids (Ana and Dane)

a hot chocolate sippin'

Beach bummin'

Tree Climbin'

Grandpa wrestlin'

Kind of Day!

Walking a Mile in My Shoes-My First Full Week of Walking

Miles Walked This Week:  7.5

(These miles are those walked intentionally...when I actually left the house to go walking.)

Things I learned

*Buying a pedometer can be confusing...there's a big range of features and costs available. I'm not sure the one I bought is totally accurate, and now I wish I would have gotten one that would measure distance when I bicycle. I'm sure if I got an I-phone, I could get an app that would do this; which would be money better spent. Nonetheless, the pedometer gives me a pretty good idea of how far I've travelled.

*Before the pedometer I thought I was walking much further than I actually was. There was a walk I used to take that I estimated to be 1.5 miles. It's just under a mile. Isn't that the just human nature; we overestimate our efforts so often!

*Walking at night is wonderful. It's peaceful, the air is cool, and you aren't distracted by lots of traffic or human activity. A great time to reflect, pray, and meditate. That said, I'm making an effort not to get lost in my thoughts/prayers when I walk. Instead I'm trying to be 'in' the walk; feeling the air on my skin, taking in the scents of the flowers as I pass by, noticing the people, barking dog, etc.

*It's only after 30 minutes of walking that I begin to really feel the effect on my body, ie sweating, increased heart rate, tension in quads. It's also at that time that doubts begin to creep in. Thoughts like, 'you're overdoing it', 'your feet hurt', 'your heart's beating too fast', 'don't go so far you can't make it home' start to malign me. And while I am very aware that I need to pace myself; for the most part I view these thoughts as demonic attempts to keep me from my goal. So I've been checking my heart rate; which has always been just fine; then I cast those thoughts down and keep going.

My weight--oh dear, I promised to report about weight losses/gains. Welllllll...I weighed myself last Sunday morning. By Tuesday I was down 2 lb. I tried not to be too encouraged by that because naturally my weight fluctuates a lot. The swing can be as much as 4 lb on any given day. On Thursday my weight was up 1 lb from the Sunday benchmark. And today...1 week later...oh my goodness...I'm up 5 pounds from the benchmark!!! Holy hamburgers and french fries! What's that all about? Muscle weight? I hope so. But, as promised, I'm not going to let the bathroom scales dictate my attitudes or erode my resolve.

Strategies

Since the Camino de Santiago will be about 20 miles a day for 20 days, I've been thinking that my short term goal should be to walk 20 miles per week. That means stepping it up. I'll work my way up to this by getting up earlier (arghhh), and walking a lot farther on weekends. We have scads of hiking trails here in the PNW (pacific northwest), so we'll just have to take advantage of them. I'm trying banish the thoughts that I'll have to give up some reading/crafting time to do this. Just need to trust that it'll all work out!

Encouragement

I'm reading this:



Exploring these sites

http://www.onfootinspain.com/home/

http://alansloman.blogspot.com/

http://hikingblogs.thesocksite.com/location/international/uk/

http://www.caminodesantiago.me.uk/planning/

Imagining myself here



Hope for the Hard Times

     She wiped her tears with the back of her hand as she carefully buckled little 4-year old Heather into her car seat. There was at least enough gas in the tank to get to the park and back. After that...who knew?
    As she backed out of the driveway, she paused to look at their modest little home.  Nothing fancy; an FHA house in a development where all of the houses looked much the same. 3 bedroom, 1 bath, a kitchen and a living room. And a laundry room! How thrilled she'd been to finally have her own home...and with laundry room; it was such a luxury not to have to haul their dirty clothes out to the laundry mat. But now, only seven years after they'd moved in...the letter came saying that her little home was going up on the auction block for repossession. The young couple had never been great at managing their money, and then to make things worse, her husband lost his job. He took some low-paying part-time jobs to keep food on the table, but they were inundated with a flood of overdue bills and collection agency notices.
     It would be hard on the boys; having to leave all of their friends and school.  This was really the only home they'd known. She looked at the basketball hoop over the garage. Every day after school the boys and their neighborhood friends played basketball until she called them in for supper.
   And what of her beautiful flowers? How hard she'd skimped and saved to buy each and every little plant in her much-loved flowerbeds! Most of her plants were purchased after the season, when the blooms were faded and scraggly. But after a few years of loving care, they were finally blooming profusely. If they moved to an apartment...there'd be no flowers...no hoop for the boys to play basketball and no grassy yard for Heather to toddle about in.
      Perhaps, she thought, a walk in Hovander Park would provide some distraction from the heaviness she felt inside, and give little Heather some happy things to recall; especially if they were kicked out of their home. "Pretty soon parks may be the only place she'll have to play," she thought. Thinking about it brought a gully-washer of tears. "Lord, please, please help us," she cried. "I know we could've worked harder and saved up more money. I haven't been perfect but I have tried. Please don't let this happen to my family."
     "Mommy sad?" Heather was looking at her with great concern in the rearview mirror.
     "Yes honey, but we'll go to the park and play, then mommy will feel better."
     "Cows, mama...and chickens?"
     "Yes; cows and chickens and goats... a big red barn and a pretty house. Hovander Park is like a big farm! "
     "OOOOKAAAY!" the child shouted enthusiastically.
     "Lord," she continued silently in prayer, "Please, please help us. Please show me you are here. Give me some little sign that You care."
     They entered the long poplar-lined drive that led to the park and strolled across the lawn toward the elegant white Victorian style home and gardens.  Jewel-toned dahlias filled the gardens. It was all a-dazzle with vibrant reds, yellows, shocking pinks and salmon colors.
     "Horsey, I wanna see the horsey," whined Heather as they strolled along the garden's edge.
     "In a minute, honey, let's look at the flowers for just a minute."
     The place was so quiet- so peaceful, she just wanted to soak in the beauty and lose herself in the solitude for awhile before having to go back home and face the music. 
     Then, out from behind a bushy plant, stepped an old man with a hoe in his hand. He was white-moustached and wearing overalls, and his friendly eyes were crinkled at the corners, as though from smiling often.
      "Hello ladies!" he cheerfully greeted them.
      Little Heather hid shyly behind her mother's leg.  Gripping the child's hand in one of hers, the woman shook the man's hands with her free hand.
     "Hello."
     "Do you like dahlias?"
     "Yes, they are beautiful."
     "Want some?"
     "I, I  really can't afford...."
     "No, they're free. I have some here that I've just cut. Too many for me and the wife."
     "Why sure...oh, yes, I'd love some!"
     For the first time since the repossession letter, she felt a smile reach across her face.
The old gent won a shy smile from the little girl too, as he handed her a bunch of zebra-striped pink flowers. He offered to bring some more out to the car. "I'll just go get a few more bouquets and meet you at your car."  To her great surprise, the man arrived in the parking lot with a wheel-barrow  chocked full of dahlias in brightly colored coffee tins. He filled the entire trunk, the back seat, and the front seat with flowers.
     "Oh my," she exclaimed, "I didn't think you meant this many flowers! There must be a hundred dahlias in here!"
     "I know ya didn't, maam. But you looked like you could use some cheering up."
     "Well thank you so much!"
   The old gent's eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled. He gave a quick wave, then strode back into the gardens and picked up his hoe.
    She stood quietly next to her car; overwhelmed by the lavishness of his gift. In all her life, no one had ever given to her so extravagantly. Then she remembered her prayer, asking God for a sign that he cared. Deep inside she heard the answer, "This is how much I care for you." The tears flowed again; but these were tears of gratitude.
   Then she grabbed her child's hand and with a laugh said, "Now let's go see those horseys!"

   The woman didn't lose her home. A family member generously offered to help the family out.  Several years later, this same woman was divorced and once again found herself wrestling with debt- plus all of the added challenges that single motherhood brings. After a time, she met a nice fellow. He seemed very kind and he had a happy laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corner. On their first date, they talked about flowers.
   The man asked, "Do you like dahlias?"
   "They're my favorite!" she replied, thinking of the day at Hovander Park, and of God's kindness. She was quite surprised that the young man knew anything about dalhias.
   "My grand-dad is the President of the local dahlia society. He plants dahlias everywhere...all over the county. From the time I was little, he made me help him grow dahlias. I've got hundreds of tubers in my basement right now. He's keeping them there for next spring's planting."
   Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open in disbelief. Could it be? Was that elderly gentleman the grandfather that her date was speaking of? She look very closely at his face. Yes, those eyes were similar...
   "Does your grandfather have a white moustache."
   "Yes, he does."
   "Does he wear overalls in the garden?"
   "Sometimes."

My dear friends...this story is true...it happened to me. I ended up marrying that fellow, the grandson of the President of the Dahlia Society! We've been together for 25 years and are on our way to happily ever after! God does care for you...and He's aware of your troubles. And though I don't know exactly why, sometimes when you are facing your greatest crisis, He will do something unexpected for you...something lavish. When I was in the park that day, my greatest prayer was for money. Instead He filled my house with dahlias! I think looking at those dahlias every day helped me have faith that He would meet my greater need. And He did. In ways I never could have dreamed.
I can't reach out and hand you a bouquet of dahlias, but I can give you my story of hope during the hard times...and these, well they are for you!

Aluminum Roasting Pans are For the Birds!

     Last week I roasted a turkey and made all the fixin's for stepson Tyler's birthday.  We actually bought the turkey at Christmas and froze it...which is a great way to take advantage of those Thanksgiving/Christmas supermarket specials for turkeys. I think we paid about 69 cents a pound for this bird. 

     I was dressing the bird when it donned on me I'd tossed out my old roasting pan. I'd had it for about 25 years and it finally bit the dust. So I ran down to the market and purchased a disposable aluminum roasting pan for $5.00. Yikes! I stood in line at the checkout thinking, "Why do we run all over town looking for the best buys on turkeys if I'm gonna pay $5.00 to roast it?" I said as much to the clerk, who made some offhanded remark about it being worth 5 bucks not to have to scrub the pan. I heartily disagreed, but kept my thoughts to myself. But really friends, has it come to that...are we now so lazy that we'll fork over 5 dollars to keep from scrubbing one pan? What's the world coming to???

     Back home I washed the roasting pan that, according to the clerk, I wouldn't have to wash. Hmmm. But the real insult came when it was time to remove the turkey from the oven. I donned my oven mitts, grabbed the pan firmly at each end and slowly lifted the 20 lb bird out of the oven. About halfway out of the oven the center of the flimsy pan buckled and about 6 cups of grease cascaded out the sides...1/2 of it went all over my legs and feet, the rest spilled back into the oven...causing flames to shoot out at me!
I quick set the turkey on the counter, turned off the oven and shut the door to smother the fire, then dashed the bathroom to douse my burned legs and feet with cold water. That was it! As I Koda and I wiped turkey grease off the floor-she with her tongue and me with a towel-I vowed never again to cook a turkey in a disposable pan. It's not good for the environment, it's not good for the pocket book, and it's just not safe!

     Since then I've been pricing big roasting pans on line. They're not cheap. I figured I would have to spend around 40 to 70 dollars for one. So I was pretty tickled today when I spotted this enamelware beauty in Goodwill for $3.99!

It's a beauty, and I paid less for this than for the throw-away pan!

Roses and rudbeckia, a beautiful contrast.