After our feast yesterday my daughter decided to give us all a tattoo. She is learning the fine art of tattooing with henna and wanted to practice. My good right foot was blessed with a beautiful design. My husband's hand was tattooed with the solar system and my son had Mom with a heart around it for his arm. It was a fun activity. I could commit to a two week tattoo.
Several people have asked for a report on my left foot. It is getting better. Recovery has just been harder and is taking longer than I had expected. I am now sixteen weeks post-op. I still have to wear the big orthopedic boot and use crutches in order to walk, but I am starting to walk. I am able to put full weight and the foot. I no longer need to take pain medicine. Yesterday I drove the car for the first time since surgery. My goal is to be walking without help by Christmas. Not being able to do the things I usually do has been frustrating, but this to shall pass. I will dance next year.
Today is Thanksgiving Day. We are headed over the river and through the woods to our daughter's home where we will feast on turkey with all the trimmings. (Actually it's just up the road, about ten minutes from here.) There will be a small but thankful crowd around the table. Two of our children and their families will be sharing the day with the in-laws this year. Our grandson will be gone for the first time this year. He is in Texas where he will celebrate with his Air Force buddies.
Take time to count your blessings today and have a wonderful day. Happy Thanksgiving!
My parent's were teetotalers, as were all their friends. When I was a child I never saw anyone drink anything alcoholic, no beer, no wine, no alcohol. Occasionally I heard a sermon about the sin of drunkenness and I grew up just assuming that good people never drank alcohol. I tell you this so you will understand the following story.
Every Christmas my mother made a fruitcake. The fruitcake making was one of the rituals of preparing for Christmas. One year one of my mom's fellow teachers told her how much better the cake would be if she soaked a cheesecloth in peach brandy and then wrapped it around the cake. The brandy would impart a peach flavor and keep the cake moister. Mom wanted to try this idea, but she had a problem. Dad was an elder in our church. The church did not approve of alcohol . She did not want any of the congregation to see her going into the liquor store, so she drove to a neighboring town to make her purchase. She parked at the store and looked around, then hurried inside to make her purchase. As she left with her little brown bag of brandy she literally bumped into the wife of the other elder in our little church who had also driven to the neighboring town to make a similar purchase. They were both embarrassed and vowed to keep their secret.
I was a young teen that day when mom came in with her arms full of groceries. In an unusual gesture of helpfulness I hopped up and helped her unload groceries. The first thing I pulled out of the grocery bag was her little brown bag with the peach brandy inside. I shrieked with amazement. “Mom, is this really brandy? Did you really buy alcohol?” My poor mom. She was so embarrassed as she explained the whole story to me.
The fruitcake was exceptionally good that year. It was so moist with a hint of peach flavor. Everyone asked for a second serving that year.
One of the sweet traditions in our congregation is “The Blessing of the Keys.” Shortly after a young person gets their driver's license the congregation blesses their car keys, praying for safe driving. At the beginning of the service the young person is called to the front of the church and there is a brief prayer. Then the young driver goes for a drive with a selected sponsor. At the end of service they return and the sponsor reports on the young driver's ability. The new driver is then given a new key chain as a token of our blessing.
This morning my seventeen-year-old granddaughter Sofie had her keys blessed. In fact she drove our youth minister to Starbucks and they talked until time to return. Her sponsor gave her an A+ on her driving skills and then said Sofie had received something quite wonderful when she returned to the church parking lot. She had received a phone call from the admissions office of the University of New Haven. Not only had she been admitted, she was awarded a significant scholarship. Her family heard this exciting news with the rest of the church. She truly did feel blessed this morning.
Yesterday I attended my first Bar Mitzvah. It was a beautiful, moving service. I cried several times as this young man was blessed by his family, his religious community and many friends. It is a wonderful thing to watch faith and heritage passed from one generation to the next with such love. Mazel tov David. You filled us all with pride.
I hope all our children all feel blessed with love by their families and their community.
In honor of the fact that this is the sixth day of November, the month of Thanksgiving, I will list six things for which I am thankful today.
1.There are no political ads on TV. I think I prefer ads about erectile dysfunction and feminine products than the filth politics produces. 2.Today I took a shower without any assistance from anyone, my first solo shower since surgery last August. I am thankful for the shower stool and long-hosed hand-held shower that made that possible. 3.I am thankful for a laptop computer that has allowed me to stay in contact with the outside world. 4.I am thankful for Mark, my daughter's sweetheart. Happy birthday Mark. 5.The world outside my window is filled with beautiful autumn leaves, I am so thankful for the beauty of nature. 6.I am thankful for Dennis, my sweet, loving husband, who has been such a wonderful caregiver as I recover from surgery. I could not have survived the last few months without his steadfast love.
What are some of things that you are thankful for today?
One of the things that has kept me sane for the past few months has been going to bell practice every week. I roll into the practice room each week in my wheelchair where I find of group of friends who help me forget my troubles for a little while. There is something about counting, 1-and-duh – 2 – 3-and-duh 4, that just makes everything else disappear. It is kind of like musical yoga. We hit a lot of wrong notes in practice and sometime we get pretty silly. We have agreed that happens in bell practice stays in bell practice. Between laughs we practice hard. Our official name is the Clinquant Choir. We call ourselves the ding-a-lings. Occasionally we get to make glorious music.
We joined the vocal choirs, the Westminster Trombone Choir, and the organ this past Sunday to play, “Lord Speak To Me.” I hope God smiled at our song of praise.
To hear us play click here, then click on the mp3 audio for the anthem on Reformation Sunday.