Random Muses of Megret

I recently stumbled across a wonderful resource....this little thing called Freecycle . It is a local forum for anyone and everyone to list items they want to give away....or request items they are looking for....all of which are completely free. Its main purpose was ecological, to reduce the amounts of trash dumped in landfills....gives a whole new meaning to "one man's trash, another man's treasure." It has become, along with that, an ebay sans monetary exchange....and just as addictive for some people, I'm sure. I have only used it once, but I returned home yesterday after driving just three miles from my house to a Freecycler's backyard. I arrived with a huge bag full of fresh, local pears....ripe and perfect for cooking. Sure does beat the 89cents/lb. you'd pay in a grocery store...and you meet interesting folks along the way. I'm sure there are also things I could list on the forum....things which I know I'll never touch again....things t

Anyone else out there as addicted to LOST as we are? I don't think I'd miss it for the world. Last night was no exception. I frantically finished up all I had to do around the house so that I could plant myself on our loveseat promptly at 8:58 pm to watch the newest episode. And, wow. It is highly unlikely that any show would include me in its band of followers. I usually don't follow the crowd, no matter WHAT new social fly-by they're after. (I never got into "New Kids on the Block" in middle school, and I never fell into line with the other cult followers of shows like "Twin Peaks" or "The X-Files.") I've always preferred the unpopular to the popular. This show, however, is different. I have to take a long, deep look at myself when I see a mental image of how I sit, mouth-open, wide-eyed staring at the screen every week. That's just not ME. I can't explain why I like this show so much and choose to follow its bittersweet plot

I passed by you today while I was walking with my son. I always take notice of your grandiose form, your white greatness amid the dark greenery of your surroundings. Your stately columns command attention. Your Federalist-style staircase leading up to the entryway is elegant and noteworthy. I look again at the lamppost outside with the family name engraved on a sign. This time, though, I won't see your owner stepping outside for a walk, as I did so often last year. She would cover her white hair with a kerchief, grab her umbrella, and go, waving to me as she slowly stepped into the road. I suddenly realize that I haven't seen her at all for months. I also won't see the car of the cleaning lady sitting out in front, which used to be there without fail every Wednesday. The window shades and blinds are wide open now, showing a peek at the emptiness inside. I see the for-sale sign, blue and white starkness. Those signs can be exciting....but they can also cause a lump to f

So, I have had a rough couple of days. Not to go into detail, but I have had a few things wearing me down this week already. Ken notices everything. I came home from the grocery store a minute ago to find tiny written notes stuck all over the inside of our house, in various spots where he thought I might be today. Little encouraging words, little prayers, little promises. Enough to break through this weary face and let a smile come through. It truly is the little things. Ken didn't go out and buy me a new Mercedes, letting it sparkle and shine in my driveway as I drove up. To me, he knows that would have been impractical and showy. Not to mention impersonal. No....he gave something else that is worth more than money to us....his time. He spent the last few minutes before heading out to work to handwrite tens of notes to his sweetheart....an action that backs up all of the "I love you's" he has spoken. Thanks, Ken.

After nearly two weeks of consecutively hot, sunny days (yes, even in September), I was pleasantly surprised to wake up to cloudy skies this morning. Gardner is sleeping soundly in his crib after his doctor's visit this morning (read all about it here ), and his room is dimmer and more condusive to daytime sleeping than usual, thanks to said cloud covering. I get inspired in the fall, especially on cloudy fall days. I get in the mood to make bread....to reorganize my linen closet....to start to pull out my sweaters from the cedar closet....to even rake leaves. My heart raced when I saw on the grocery store marquee this morning that carving pumpkins are ready and on sale. I start to dig out those books which have been calling out to me all summer long. So many people complain about clouds and rain. I used to....I admit it. My birthday would be absolutely ruined if it rained on that day. Now, I try to happily accept any weather that happens to grace my days. There are great things ab

I just got home from running a bunch of tedious errands. You know....the things you can't do from home, that require an actual personal trip to each destination, though you're only at each spot for no longer than 5 minutes. Trips like these are what take the most gas out of even the most fuel-efficient vehicles (such as my own), and so I am a stickler for drawing out a game plan before I leave the house. I have always been a planner, one who leans towards the cautious side of everything. Sometimes I wish I could just be free as the wind, running aimlessly to and fro, backtracking like crazy. It kills me to think of how much time and gas I waste when I do that, though, and that's why I plan ahead. My friends laugh at me when we all go yard sale-ing together (is that the right way to spell that?). I will stay up late on Friday night and write down every single advertised sale out of the paper that we might go to. Then I put them in order of farthest-away to closest to h

....and we have the photos to prove it! Check out the flickr set of Gardner's birthday celebrations. It was a spectacular day. And thanks to all who were here to celebrate with us. You made it that much more special.

Now I know. I spent years tiring of the "proud parent talk" that I heard from friends and strangers alike. I would get irate and irritable when I was seated beside a family with a cranky toddler in a restaurant. I would avoid "mommy talk" like the plague. But now I know. You don't really understand until you become.....a parent. Now, I smile when I see a family with a very talkative child at a nice restaurant. I feel so much for the stressed out mom in the post office with a squealing kid at her heels. I can be genuinely excited for my friends when they tell me about a first tooth, first word, or first time in the big boy potty (ha!). I know, because I get just as excited about Gardner's "firsts." My child is a genius, and I believe it. So does every other mom in the universe. I want to scream out with joy for all the world to hear whenever he does something new or notable. The new talents he learns are....well, amazing....and I think that everybod

Even though I am currently a stay-at-home mom (which is a full-time profession, actually, though I never realized that before), I still have vivid memories of my work experiences which pop into my mind on occasion. I think it's mainly because God is bringing those memories back up to the surface to cause me to reflect on them all over again. In my life, God has taught me so, so much through the jobs which I've held. I think it's one of the main ways He got through to me. I can remember my first job.....a hostess and cashier for a locally owned meat-and-three restaurant in my hometown. I was ecstatic. It was my first "real" job, and I loved it. I worked so diligently, checking behind my calculations at the cash register with each transaction. I always greeted the diners with a happy smile and leisurely attitude to convey warmth and hospitality. When Christmas came, I decorated the tree in the lobby so carefully, with much attention to every detail....it mus

....till it's gone. (Please pardon the bad grammar....I did it on purpose.) I'm back after a brief break from blogging. I usually do take "off" on the weekends from the computer, but this weekend I couldn't have posted even if I'd wanted to. Our cable internet provider was down for a day and a half, and so we were "cut off" from the world wide web for a while. Ken and I called ourselves absolutely pitiful. We acted like we'd been marooned on a deserted island the way we were moping around. We kept running to the computer at random points during the day.... "I wonder what the temperature is outside?" "I need to check our checking account for something." "I need to send Mom a quick e-mail." We felt silly as we realized....oh, yeah....we can't do that. It's almost as bad as the time I got angry because my cordless phone wouldn't work during a power outage. "But phones aren't out, just th

Ken, Gardner and I are about to leave for a fun morning and afternoon "on the town." It's been a while since we've all just gone out and had fun. Hopefully Gardner will attempt his morning nap while we drive....he usually does that. Funny how a routine "jaunt" out of the house used to involve only me, Ken, my purse, his wallet, and our digital camera. With Gardner comes an entourage of diapers, bottles, pre-packaged lunch, a change of clothes, a digital camera AND video camcorder, and a slew of other tiny details. Good thing I'm already used to it. On trips growing up, I was allowed to pack a "fun bag" to hold in the backseat beside me. I filled it with dolls, coloring book and crayons, Fun Pads, candy, and travel games. I have to admit that I still pack "fun bags" even now when we travel. Ken laughs at me every time as I try to see how many Martha Stewart magazines I can stuff into a small canvas bag. I thank God for the ability to s

Now, don't take the title too seriously. I am not implying that God didn't create me to be who I am....I am glad He placed me with my parents and gave me Ken to share the rest of my life with. Yet all of my life, I've heard one comment over and over....."You were born in the wrong decade, Meg." Most people might take that as an insult. I take it as a compliment, realizing that my eclectic, quirky self is shown in all its glory after just a few minutes of getting to know someone. I used to try to hide my true passions and interests. That was a foolish idea.....everything comes to light eventually! And I realized that my true friends would stick around even after knowing what I'm all about. I was right. Why was I born in the "wrong" decade? Let me show you. (And for those of you who might be older than 50, I realize that my historical ideals might be a little warped. I am an idealist when it comes to these things....and even though I attempt

I can't seem to focus on much of anything right now. I just cannot sit down and work diligently at a task like I used to without my mind running in a kazillion different directions, getting me off track. I feel dissatisfied, frazzled, and short-fused. I do not think it is physical, but spiritual. I believe that everything in my life which seems to be turning upside down is there to help me ask God for a right-side up. I believe that a life that's grown full of confusion, haphazardness, and inconsistency is the life that God can use as a vessel in which to pour out His strength. Just when I think I have it "all together," it hits me blindsided. I don't have it all together. In fact, sometimes I survey myself and find that I'm a mess. The false sense of pride which wells up in me is sunk fast when a storm hits. When that happens, what are we left with? All we have relied on (meaning ourselves) is nowhere to be found. What's left? Nothing...... Except Jesus.

Katrina's destruction hit close to home for my family. Though New Orleans seemed thousands and thousands of miles away to many of us (and me at first), it dawned on me that nearly everyone we come across has ties to someone there, somehow. In my case, it hit closer than I'd thought. My cousin, Jonathan, is a seminary student at the NOBTS (New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary). He had just returned to school from a wonderful summer doing missions in Canada. High hopes for his semester ahead, he (like most of the other students) didn't see this one coming. In fact, from what I can tell, the attitudes on campus were nonchalant for the most part about the impending storm. No one expected it to escalate so quickly to such a powerful one. The students weren't really implored to take every single thing that belonged to them, but merely just a few token items of their choice. After all, many thought they'd return in just two or three days. My cousin vacated to th

....fall's nearly here. About a week away, if you really want to be literal. I have always counted autumn as my favorite season among the four that God gave us. Most people would probably say that spring's their preferred time of year, but I see just as much beauty and wonder (if not more so) during the fall. I give to you another list....I haven't done this in a couple of weeks.....of the reasons why autumn is so dear to my heart. -- The fragrance of fall....oh, if you could capture it in a bottle. It is a musty yet clean smell at the same time....the smell of decaying leaves almost seems decadent and romantic. The wind carries the scents of fall to your nose, the much cooler, less-humid wind, that is....and you realize that summer is on its way out. -- You can step outside in time to see the flocks of geese and other birds flying overhead in perfect formation, calling with their solemn voices to one another. It is a reverie....makes you stand still and just stare in awe,

I watched some interviews this morning with the evacuees of New Orleans. These people were pleading with everyone they came in contact with to help them locate their families. "Families" in a broad sense doesn't hit home as much as when individuals were spoken of. "Please help me find my wife." "Please help me find my brother." "Please help me find my daughter." "Please help me find my grandchildren." I have not one reason to complain this morning. I woke up in a warm bed, surrounded by comforts of my own bedroom, lights dim (not blaring like at the Astrodome), husband by my side. My son awoke and clung onto me as he does every morning, full of love and hugs. I had a bottle ready for him, and he didn't worry about breakfast. I know that my mom and dad, sister and brother-in-law, two nieces, aunts, uncles and grandparents are all waking up this morning in their own beds, safe and accounted for. They are just a phone cal

I wanted to throw my alarm clock out the window this morning, as soothing as it was with its slow-tempo Gospel music which hit my ears at 6:30am. What day was it? My usual ability to jump right out of bed was evidently AWOL. My eyelids felt like 10-lb. weights....there's no way I'd want to LIFT 10-lb. weights this morning. As I laid there, staring meekly at my ceiling, I realized that there were no excuses I could pull from. I didn't have a headache, nor was I sore from yesterday's workout. I didn't hear rain, sleet or snow outside. In fact, it was 65 and sunny. Hm. I could go later. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Enter in graphic depictions in my mind's eye of my busy day suddently becoming too crowded to fit a workout in (like it always happens). Uh-uh, Meg. That one won't cut it, either. I was up too late last night, I then retaliated to my conscience. My conscience then promptly replied, "Well, who MADE you stay up that late?" T

We spent much of the weekend playing phone tag with two of our dear friends, Matt and Sara. Sara (at last) delivered a healthy baby boy on Friday, and we were able to visit them twice during their hospital stay. You can learn a lot about people and society in general just by observing them. People-watching has always been a favorite pastime of mine. I would like to submit, too, that the most fascinating people to be watched can be found in one of three places: the airport, the mall, and the hospital. I am one who likes to make up stories about people who I don't even know....where they're from, why they're here....where they're going....what kind of pain must be plaguing them (drama, I know). One thing I do know is that, in hospitals, the staff is fun to observe. The particular hospital where we were deals with nothing but women and children. The floor we were on, of course, dealt exclusively with labor and delivery. The woman at the front desk looked placid and calm, h

I don't know what sets it off in me, but sometimes I feel the need to radically change certain things about my life at a moment's whim. I am one who isn't resistant to change, although the thought of it sounds better than the afterproduct sometimes (who else out there has had a regret?). Yesterday, I was all awash with bittersweet memories of my little dog, Ariel. I was in much better shape than I was Tuesday, obviously, but I was still shedding tears at the very thought of those last few moments with her. What do I do with situations like that? Well, I like silence. I like to sit in a quiet room, preferably near a window, and peer into God's beauty outdoors. It reminds me that I have so many blessings in my life that I should remember, and it calms me down. I also turned to the Bible, of course, and I read the passages in Acts about how the church mended its own wounds and loved within its walls, as well as loved those on the outside enough to pull them in. (To