Bunny Girl - My, how she's grown!

2011

2010

2009

Trip to the Feed Store

My sweet friend Kelli invited Gianna and I to ride a few towns over with her to get some hay for her horses - which apparently is pretty hard to find these days.  There were a bunch of foals born nearby the feed store and we thought we'd make a little field trip out of it.

Well, neither of us checked the weather before we left and we drove into a gruesome band of thunderstorms.  We headed to the feed store and that was enough of a field trip for my munchkin.

As we walked in the door, Gianna immediately held her nose and started gagging. "WHAT'S THAT SMELL?" she inquired.  I couldn't stop laughed. She couldn't figure out why no one else notice that it stunk.  She asked the lady who worked there why it smelled so bad.  "Oh, that's just poop." she replied.  Gianna was horrified.  If it wasn't evident that my child wasn't a country girl on our recent fishing trip, then the trip to the Feed Store confirmed it. 

As we walked around we discovered some awesome things....

One of the ladies who worked there was so sweet and gave Gianna the full experience. 

Gethsemane

As we enter the Sacred Triduum and celebrate Holy Thursday, the last Supper, the washing of the feet and Jesus' agony in the garden (Gethsemane) ~ I find that it is easy to experience Jesus' full humanity.  I can relate to Jesus in Gethsemane.

"My soul is sorrowful even unto death."

I can relate to the deep pain and sorrow. I can relate knowing there are crosses that we carry unto death. 

"Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done."

I can relate to the questioning God's plan.  I can relate to desperately wanting the 'cup' (my impending cross) to be taken from me. I can relate to the call to claim this cross as mine - renouncing my own will and accepting the will of the Father.

"Keep watch and remain here with me."

I can relate to not wanting to carry this cross alone.  I can relate to feeling disappointed that many people aren't there for me in the way I want or need them to be.  I can relate to utter loneliness in the cross.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I can relate to that Jesus in Gethsemane. I get him. I know him.  His pain and grief was consuming.  It was bigger than mine - than ours.

During the Holy Thursday liturgy, I cry every time at The Washing of the Feet. It really gets to me.  I am moved that, even knowing what was ahead of him, Jesus looked outside of himself, humbled himself, and served.  What a powerful witness.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Today Gianna and I finished our special novena to St. Joseph....on Holy Thursday.  On Iain's birthday.

Today, Iain would have been forty-one.  (All of a sudden, that number seems small.) Today he celebrated his first birthday in heaven. Gianna and I imagined what his celebration might have been like.  I asked her what she thought Daddy was doing on his birthday in heaven.  "Praying for you, Mommy."  My sweet, wise child.

I never knew just how many firsts and milestones there would be on this grief journey. Sometimes they wash over me like a gentle rain and sometimes they sweep me up in hurricane of emotion and anxiety.  I try very hard not to let any date or anniversary have any sort of power over me. I refuse to let the calendar dictate my path of grief.  However, there is emotion (both painful and gifting) in the remembrances, the thoughts and prayers.

I, in my typical fashion, overplanned the day in my head.  Quite often, the exhausting element of grief pulls the reigns in on my big plans ~ thankfully!  It was a simiple day.  Gianna and I spent most of it quietly at home.  Later in the afternoon we drove to the cemetery. (I still can't believe that when I talk about visiting my husband - it's at a cemetery.)

I took Gianna to the mall to eat supper.  Chick-fil-A for her.  Sushi for me ~ in honor of Iain. Oh how I miss our sushi dates.  I bought her a double doozy cookie in lieu of the cupcake I'd promised her all day.  I think it sufficed.  We ended the day with Holy Thursday Mass.  Fitting.

Happy Birthday, my Love. Be at peace.

That's about right...

After a LONG day, I was driving back home from LC and thought I'd drive through Sonic and get a treat. I don't do that often, but really thought I needed it today. Just a large Diet Dr. Pepper with vanilla - Easy Ice.  (I recently discovered you can order your drinks with half, little or no ice. Slow learner, I guess.)

I ordered and it came to my window a few minutes later. I paid the bell hop and then put my drink in  its holder.  At a quick glance I noticed the ice through the semi-clear lid. I opened the lid and sure enough, the cup was packed with ice.  I ordered Easy Ice - meaning not very much - because I get tired of paying for five sips of a beverage steeped in tons of ice. This is the point in the story where I would normally huff and pout and complain - all while drinking my ice-packed drink.

Well not today!  I quickly pushed the little red button and told them I ordered a drink with easy ice and it was FULL of ice. They apologized and told me they would fix my order.  They did. They quickly came with a Route 44 sized drink (upgrade!) with only some ice and two poker-chip looking coins that entitle me to TWO free cherry limeades.  How 'bout them apples?  I was so proud for standing up for myself and was sure God was rewarding me doing so. 

When the manager lady came to bring me my corrected order, I told her I didn't mean to be difficult.  Her response:  "Oh, no problem. We want what we want." 

That seemed like a nice enough response - but it bothered me.  I wasn't able to think quick enough to tell her, "It's not a matter of wanting what I want - it's a matter of receiving what I ordered." I'll have to put that one in my back pocket for another day.

I was so happy to go home, put my munchkin to bed and sit in the recliner sipping on my Diet Dr. Pepper - which now stood for something much more than a small treat for myself.  It was a life lesson in a cup, after all.

That would have been a great end to the story.  But, alas, it wasn't. I put my huge cup of satisfaction on the kitchen table and as I was depositing some bags next to my beloved DDP - one of them swept that beautiful drink off the table and upside down onto the chair. In slow motion, the cup tipped over on it's side emptying about 39 of the 44 ounces from one end of my kitchen floor to the other. I gasped, most likely in a dramatic fashion because upon hearing me - Gianna burst into tears (no nap) and cried for a good five minutes because she was so sad I would be so thirsty.

The time I thought I'd be spending having a relaxing moment - was then spent soaking the nectar of the gods onto big white towels, steaming my floors (for the 2nd time today) and putting on yet another load of laundry.

Yeah.....that's about right.   Welcome to my life in a nutshell. 

* * * * * * * * * * *

And just for the record, this post isn't really about a measely soda.  It's really about how representative it is of how my life feels these days. I think it stung so much because of the symbolism.

There is a time to sow....

My sweet friend, Anita, came from Houston for a surprise visit and brought Gianna a little St. Patrick Day surprise:  a planting kit to grow your own flowers.  Yesterday, we took advantage of the beautiful weather and got to planting.

She was quite proud of her work.

(Should I mention that she completely flooded the soil the next day, while watering?  If these seeds sprout, it will surely be a miracle!)