Note: I’ve occasionally seen other bloggers do a stream of consciousness type post where they just start writing and don’t go back and do any editing. That’s always seemed like a really scary ideato me because I re-write more than I write. Editing is what I do.
But I figured that if they could do it, I could do it. And so what you will read below is Becky Unedited. The only thing I changed was if I spelled a word wrong. Everything else is straight from my brain. Scary, I know. I closed out with a few pictures. Also unedited.
It’s Monday. (In case you didn’t know.)
I’ve been awake since 4;30 since occasionally my brain starts whirring around busily for no reason and I can’t make it stop. So I lie there and think about stuff and pray for people and try to talk myself into going back to sleep. As a rule, Self doesn’t listen. Self sets its heels like a 2-year old refusing to eat broccoli.
But that’s okay. Because early morning hours are peaceful and quiet and can offer the opportunity to accomplish a lot of things before even getting out of bed—plans for the day, to do lists, problems to ponder, moments to mull over.
It’s funny how early morning people seem to marry late night people. My mom loves to rise early and greet the dawn with a smile My late dad was a night owl for most of his life and didn’t get his second wind till about 9 pm.
I’m much like my mom; I love the early morning hours and would get up early, even if I didn’t have to. Steve? Not so much. He does get up early but it’s not something he particularly loves. He always relies on a cup of motivation to get him tuned up to face the day. (I prefer my caffeine cold and carbonated.)
Sarah had her friend Taylor over last night, as well as Taylor’s younger sister, Logan. Since Logan had to be at school early for band class, Snowy and I made two school runs today; one with Logan and a second one with Taylor and Sarah. He was a very happy dog, getting to deliver all those ladies to various schools throughout the morning. However, he is now exhausted and is snoozing beside me. He said to tell you that he’s not accepting any phone calls or visits for the next 6 hours because napping is so vitally important.
We’re in the throes (what’s a throe, anyway?) of getting ready for our church’s Easter drama which is going to be about three times the production that it was last year. Thankfully, I am not involved in it except for doing some video, music, sound effects stuff. I say thankfully because drama overwhelms me. I’m not good at acting, I don’t have any clue how blocking works, or how to write a script or how to paint a backdrop, or how to built a set. I am amazed and impressed by people who ARE good at it though, and thankfully, we are blessed with a whole group of folks who have big plans for this years’ play.
Steve is in charge of lighting effects and is having a fun time assembling scaffolding and with the help of several other fellas, climbing up and down half a hundred times to hang new mounting hardware and lights from the rafters of our extremely, very tall, massively high church ceiling.
We are seriously planning on a trip to Wisconsin this summer, and are hoping that Nathan and Meagan can go too. Meagan hasn’t met anyone in Nathan’s family except for Steve’s parents and my sister and brother-in-law so it would be nice if she could make the rounds and meet the whole crew. We haven’t been up there since my dad’s funeral 2 1/2 years ago and I always feel sad that Sarah lives so far away from her cousins and aunts and uncles and never gets to see them.
Maybe it’s just my own perception, but in the South, it seems that families live closer to each other more than in other areas of the country. Seems like 90% of our church has at least several family members within an hour or so. (Or more often, right around the corner.) And so to raise a child with a dearth of extended family is sort of a sad thing to me especially when I hear about families who have tons of cousins who are close. But Sarah keeps in touch with a couple cousins on Facebook so that’s fun.
Part of the reason I love going to Wisconsin is that I get to take country drives through the rolling hills and farm land. I miss that. Even though living in a village by the sea is wonderful, the one thing it doesn’t offer is lots of hills and farms. And since I grew up with that, part of me doesn’t really feel like I’m at home unless there’s a silo in the distance.
One of my favorite things to do is carve out 2-3 hours and just take off in the car through the country. When I get to a stop sign I don’t even look at the highway number or street signs. I just turn whichever direction I’m in the mood to turn. And at the next intersection, I do it again. It doesn’t get much better than rural meandering. And when I have a camera in hand and can stop whenever I want? Well, that’s life at its best. So I’m hoping this summer will provide me several Rural Meandering Opportunities.
I got a letter in the mail Friday with an appointment notice for a mammogram followed by a visit to my oncologist. I still can’t quite believe that someone who has had a bilateral mastectomy needs to have a mammogram. My understanding is that there are still areas right under the layers of the skin that could get cancer. That’s hardly worth thinking about: getting breast cancer after a mastectomy. At any rate, I’m not terribly worried about that eventuality. I’m down to once a year visits with my oncologist now and am quite happy about putting that chapter behind me. (As if getting breast cancer and having surgery could ever truly be put behind someone. It will always be a huge part of my life. But at least I’m not actively dealing with it. Which is nice.)
It is a perfect Spring day. Sunny. 60 degrees. Birds twittering merrily outside my window. In my opinion, one of the nicest things God ever did for us was to make birds able to sing. I mean, when you think about it, I don’t suppose there’s any reason why He had to do that. He could have made them exactly as they are except completely silent. But no. He made music-producing flying creatures. How cool is that? Few things I love more than early morning birdsong.
I’ve been out on my bike a lot in this early spring time, which just happens to be my favorite season of the year. (Apart from the horrendous horrificness of pollen. And the South can DO some pollen! I guess we have to pay a price for the immense beauty of springtime. )
Riding bike is so much more fun than walking for exercise. I always get the fleeting sensation, whenever I get on a bike, that I am 7-years old again, and the summer has just begun. There is something very kid-esque about bike riding. And as a recently minted 50-year old, I am interested in all the kid-esque experiences I can find.
End of Meandering. Now for some Pictures.