friday fun: our morning at the salon

Friday Fun

Didn't have it in me for "quick takes" this week. I typically write those Thursday night. Instead, last night I was enjoying a beautiful evening with a lovely friend out on the back patio at Monte's Downtown Fargo. It was a supremely gorgeous night, not a mosquito in sight (they're sparse this year, which I have loved!) and I enjoyed my blogging break. This morning, up with the girls to head out on our Friday Fun adventure at the hair salon. Yes, this is a variation of my promised "Faith Fridays." I hope to be back tomorrow with a Soulful Saturdays post instead.

Can you tell we had a truly fun-filled morning? Times like this, I really, really feel blessed to have daughters. Thanks, Lynn, for the awesome "do's!"

writing wednesdays: the mailbox

Writing Wednesdays

Any writer serious about the craft has a love-hate relationship with the mailbox. We know well that all too often, between the bills and junk mail, lurk those pesky rejection letters. After we've been at it a while, though, we begin to take it all in stride. We realize that each rejection is a success, because it means we're working, we're trying to get it right, and we're getting closer. We're not just talking about writing and talking about "someday." We're actually doing the legwork in an effort to try to get our work out there. And we'll always remember in crisp detail what it was like that fine day we reached into the mailbox and pulled out our first acceptance letter. On that day, the birds began to sing, the sun suddenly emerged from behind clouds and we didn't care that the neighbors were looking at us, scratching their heads while we hugged the mailbox.

Nevertheless, those days of celebration don't happen every day in the life of a writer. They come, but more often, they go. Usually a trip to the mailbox is just that -- a dreary walk to the curb with low expectations of what might be discovered.

That definitely was my attitude a few weeks back when I grabbed the mail on the way out to run some errands. Sure enough, it seemed at first glance, junk mail had taken over once again. I almost missed the envelope engulfed in all the pizza fliers. What's this? My name written in pen (not typed) on the outside. My eyes quickly shifted to the top left. Aha, the publisher I'd approached only a few weeks prior with a query. Talk about a quick rejection! With that little twinge of disappoinment that accompanies rejection letters flaring, I began to open to the letter, wondering whether it would be a form rejection, or one with a small hand-written note. Ho-hum...

It definitely wasn't a form rejection. Nor was it a typed rejection with handwritten notes. The words, Thanks for sending and interested and intrigued popped out instead, and the stale air around me shifted.

The letter I received, while not a rejection, wasn't an acceptance, either, but it was a request for revision and to see more in the near future. It is a mere step forward, and nothing more at this point.in other words, I won't be sending out invitations to the party just yet. But, it's a start nonetheless.

I dropped the junk mail into the recycling bin and tucked the letter into my purse, then pointed my van toward the grocery store. If anyone passing had looked closely enough to see the expression on my face, they might have guessed I'd just won the lottery, my grin was that big. I lilted into the grocery store to go about my mission, thinking that the oranges had never looked so orange, hoping I could stay on the ground long enough to make it back home to tell my family. Hope that follows hard work is something worth celebrating, after all.

Later that evening, it was back to work, but this time, with a renewed sense of purpose. I will carry this renewed energy into my residency at St. Ben's in a few weeks. It's all good, indeed!

I'd love to hear from writers out there. What did your first acceptance letter feel like? If it hasn't happened yet, what are you doing to reach your goals? Share any writing successes you'd like. Spread the hope!

lesson from the heart from my daughter

Today is "Writing Wednesdays," and I do promise to post on that later, but there's something else more immediate that I want to share now.

A short while ago, my 9-year-old brought me morning tea and toast in bed. I've been up late these days, working on a couple projects, and my girls especially know how much I love a wake-up treat every once in a while to get my day started off right.

But with the delivery of the goods this morning came something even better.

"Mom, I decided I'm going to have a good attitude today. I'm going to try really hard not to grump around."

That was nice, and I went with it, praising her efforts to turn things around on her own. The smiling sisters have been more like snarling sisters lately, and it's obviously been bearing down on her, and getting old about now.

But that wasn't all.

"Yeah, last night, I was talking to Gabriel and great-grandpa and God, and I just asked them to help me."

Wow. Okay, well, this is something else entirely.

Gabriel is her brother, the one we never got to properly meet, but the one, too, whose death paved a way to her life. My daughter would not exist if Gabriel hadn't perished prematurely. And yet, we believe those who go on before us do help us in our earthly journey; that they are there, readily accessible, desiring mightily to help lead us toward God. We can choose to ignore this precious gift of intercession, or act on it, as my daughter did.

Her words stunned me, coming when they did, so spontaneously, so innocently, so beautifully. There are times I think of Gabriel, and long spans when I do not. Hearing her soft pronouncement, so many thoughts rushed at me, including endearment toward her for taking the initiative to try to be a better person, and to use all the resources at her disposal to do so -- including the spiritual ones, those things unseen but powerful nonetheless.

"Thanks for reminding me that I need to talk to Gabriel more often too," I said. At that point, I lost the resolve to remain a mother in control and let a few tears slip down. And I think that was all fine, because our children need to see our natural reactions to the world around us, whether it be joy or sorrow or a mixture of the two, as was the case today.

I speak often about how God reaches us through others. Today, He met me at my waking and talked to me through the gentle, inspired voice of my daughter.

the blessing of a simple summer

This summer, our family has been in flux on the job front, and because of that, we didn't plan a family vacation. Not knowing for sure how everything would go down, we kept it simple, choosing small outings near home instead of a wider adventure. Though I signed the kids up for a few activities, even in that, we kept things very light. A friend recently said she'd been spending most of the summer driving her children from here to there and back. As she spoke, I couldn't help but feel gratitude that that has not been the flavor of our summer this year. And, I've rather enjoyed it.

My friend and fellow writer-mother, Donna Cooper O'Boyle, recently spoke on the radio about several things, including the blessing of a simple summer. I loved what she said; it resonated with where we're at here. It helped affirm to me that sometimes, more often than not even, simple really is best. The segment is several minutes long, but if you have moment to spare, or your computer is stationed somewhere near where you are doing something else that won't require your full attention (housework?), I hope you'll take a moment to listen to Donna Marie on "Mom's Corner" with Teresa Tomeo. Towards the end of the interview, Donna shares a bit about her forthcoming book, Mother Teresa and Me, which I've had the great privilege to read pre-publication.

Wishing you many moments of joyful simplicity as we head into the final phase of summer!

more kids' quotes -- from you!

Mama Mondays

After my last kids' quotes entry, I asked readers to share some of the quips they've heard from the mouths of their own babes. Thanks to all those who responded! I know my children are not the only little people to come up with these doozies and I truly loved reading these. I'd love to do this again in the future, so if reading these jogs your memory, please share in the comments box and I'll post more at some future date.

I'm going to start with two I shared Friday that may have become hidden in the "quick takes" posting. Enjoy!

Compliments of our 4-year-old:

On the way to the lake in the van: "Mom, can you turn down the cold air? I'm getting GHOST BUMPS!!!"

On the way back into town, after examining his legs: "Hey, guess what? It wasn't Lake Itch Day today!" (You can guess from this what afflicted him the last time he jumped into a lake.

Shared by a reader, as mentioned by his 6-year-old daughter:

"I love you so much dad, you are the best daddy in the world...on land!"

(Nice of her to clarify!)

From a college friend, who posted on Facebook:

Yesterday I was in the pool with my kids. My 4-year-old and I were going under the water and looking at each other. When we came up for air I told her she looked like a mermaid. She looked surprised and said, "Didn't I have a swimsuit on?!"

Received through email by a friend/former neighbor:

The friend relayed that when her three children were little, they were waiting at a busy intersecton one morning while a funeral procession was passing. Her daughter, around 4 at the time, asked what was going on, so she explained what all the commotion was about. The response from the 4-year-old regarding the deceased? "He sure invited a lot of people, didn't he?"

Here's one from a friend who recently finished her student teaching in preparation for a professional job as an educator:

One of my kindergartners asked me where I am going to work, to which I told her I didn't know yet. She proceeded to inform me, "You could work for Mewwy Maids (Merry Maids) like my mom."

And finally, this one came from a pal through email and offers an awesome visual:

When C was little, she had problems pronouncing the word “cushions.” One day she tattled (on her brother), “S took the Christians off the couch and now he’s jumping on them!!”

Ah, the innocence of kids. I find myself continually refreshed by these sweet utterances, which often come during the most intense of moments, and always, of course, spontaneously.

Let well-placed words, however they come to you, brighten your week!

wanted: spiritual direction

Faith Fridays

No, this isn't a classified advertisement for spiritual direction, nor is it a call for reader feedback on how I might proceed in my spiritual life. Instead, I thought I would share with you a little bit about a journey I've recently begun; a journey that has started with the quest to find a spiritual director.

It's been about a decade now since I first heard the term spiritual director. What a concept, I thought then, having a spiritual guide. Around that time, several friends had sought out spiritual direction. At transitional times in their lives, they desired spiritual help in moving through those life changes. I'd also read about spiritual direction in a book that advised the practice to those seeking a satisfying spiritual life. It sounded like a fabulous idea -- for someone other than me. My family was in the midst of a growth spurt, and I was knee-deep in earthly, motherly concerns. It didn't seem like the right time to take on what seemed like a lofty ideal of enlisting the aid of a spiritual mentor.

I sometimes wonder how my life might have unfolded if I'd have acted on this idea sooner, and yet, perhaps it wasn't the right time. Besides, unnecessary regret seems a waste of energy. The fact is, now I do feel a strong tug to find someone qualified to help me discern my spiritual direction. It's not so much about being in transition as simply a deeper craving to be certain of God's will. Perhaps I've lived long enough now, at 40, to realize that my will and God's will are not always in sync. I'm ready to work on developing my discernment capabilities, having been around enough to know that living inside my own head, relying only on my experiences and thoughts, has never been and will never be enough.

I might explain it better relating it to the writing life -- or any long-term pursuit, for that matter. It wasn't until I began seeking out writing mentors that my writing truly began to grow in ways I'd always hoped it could. It wasn't until I began seeking out those who'd been trained, who'd walked the walk I yearned to walk, that my goals seemed remotely within reach. So why wouldn't I want the same for my spiritual life, when it's every bit as -- no, even more -- important to me than my writing. (Though, I would argue that very often, the two cross paths, and when they do, I'm the most content, especially when I feel God at the helm.)

Though I don't know that I've ever read an official definition of spiritual direction, I have a loose one in my head. To me, a spiritual director is not a counselor, though he or she might function in that capacity from time to time. It is not a guru set on leading us to the literal mountaintop so that we might become enlightened. It is someone qualified to listen, to hear the history of a spiritual journey in progress, and to offer guidance on how a spiritual path might be laid out for the next phase of life. We can pray mightily and try to hear God's voice, but the truth is, God often speaks through the voices of others. Of course, even in this we must be careful so we know it's truly God's voice we're hearing. But I find that so much of my spiritual life has unfolded in this way -- through hearing and seeing God in those around me.

Recently, I met with someone who may well become my permanent spiritual director. I felt very good about the meeting. I felt like I was heard, and at the end of the session, I was given an assignment that seemed very well suited to me. I was asked to keep a journal of daily "themes." In his wisdom, the spiritual director knew that as a busy mother, I might not want to keep a detailed journal, but rather, something simple to sum up the gist of my day. We'll see what it produces at our next visit. I like the idea of an assignment, though. It's more likely to keep me focused, to help me remember that I am on a journey, not just once a month when we meet, but daily. The meetings are simply a check-in to see how things are going, and a time for the spiritual director to serve in the capacity of translator -- helping me to interpret events in my life as spiritual signs that may be offering clues of where I'm meant to be heading. And of course, prayer is a huge part of it. Beginning and ending the sessions in prayer helps me feel confident I am not just veering off on my own accord. God, with the help of my guide, is leading the way.

I look forward to finding out what's next, and if I feel it might benefit others, sharing a few pieces of what I'm learning. In the meantime, let me ask this: Have you ever had a spiritual director? If so, was it (or has it been) a good experience for you? If yes, why, and if not, why?

7 quick takes friday (vol. 18)

What a week! It's been busy and fun-filled, and I've got a lot of photos itching to be shared. Enjoy!

--1--

DONUTS WITH FRIENDS: One neighborhood back, our girls had next-door friends whom they've sorely missed since their exit to Sunny Florida a couple years ago. But thanks to e-mail and other means, they've managed to stay in touch. We feel grateful that the family included us in their vacation plans in North Dakota this week, letting us "borrow" their girls as well as taking ours swimming at their hotel. It's always hard to say goodbye, but so sweet seeing young friendship endure, even through the miles. On Wednesday, after the sleepover, the girls enjoyed morning donuts out on the front steps.

--2--

HORIZONTAL WORLD: My latest read is a second-timer. More than a year ago I discovered and read, with pleasure, Debra Marquart's memoir, The Horizontal World: Growing Up Wild in the Middle of Nowhere. The book is a jewel, poignantly written. The backdrop for most of the story? Rural Napoleon, North Dakota. Summer seems the perfect time to re-read this gem of a book, since so many of Marquart's fondest recollections seem to revolve around North Dakota in the summertime.

Here's an excerpt from the prologue, xix and xx, describing her mother:

"As a child, I remember my mother as overworked and preoccupied, slamming doors and cupboards. She was always busy with her hands, milking cows, washing dishes, canning, sewing, gardening, working with the farm bills, the messy pile of receipts, her worried fingers on the calculator. She was always running from place to place.

"In the barn, she would throw a milker on the cow then run across the yard into the house to put dinner in the oven...

"She'd throw open the refrigerator and tear the roast from its wrapper. She would clatter a pan on the kitchen counter then throw the roast in with a loud thump. She'd tear open the packet of French onion soup, sprinkle it over the meat, run a little tap water into the pan, throw the whole thing in the oven, and be out the door and back to the barn in time to take the milker off the finished cow and put it on the next one."

--3--

ST. BEN'S A' CALLIN': In less than two weeks, I'll be packing up my bags in preparation for my second summer writing residency at St. Benedict's Monastery in St. Joseph, Minnesota. For more on my summer reprieve, see Wednesday's post describing the monastery's scholar-in-residence program, Studium, and what I'm anticipating. Here's another photo from last year's visit:

--4--

HANGING WITH HORSES: This was our second turn at a summertime excursion to our local YMCA's Camp Cormorant, which began with a short trail ride. This horse, with her shiny red mane, caught my eye...

--5--

LURE OF THE LAKE: After a fabulous hot-dog-grill lunch on the patio outside the camp cafeteria, we let the kids loose in the lake. Last year, the little boys stayed near the shore, and this year was no exception...

Until they saw their sister swimming out to the trampoline innertube. Before I realized what was happening, I saw them following behind in their life jackets.

This is, by far, the furthest they've ever ventured out into any body of water. They had an absolute blast!

And they weren't the only ones enjoying the water today. As this retriever did what retrievers do best, the kids hollered from the innertube, "Go dog! Go dog! Go dog!"

Even the beachcombers seemed content:

Finally, a few of my favorite kids' quotes from today, compliments of my 4-year-old.

On the way to the lake in the van: "Mom, can you turn down the cold air? I'm getting GHOST BUMPS!!!"

On the way back into town, after examining his legs: "Hey, guess what? It wasn't Lake Itch Day today!" (You can guess from this what afflicted him the last time he jumped into a lake.)

--6--

I posted recently about some changes to my blog. In keeping with my revised theme, "A garden blend of faith, family and following the muse," I'm beginning a new schedule that will go like this:

Monday = Mama Mondays

Wednesday = Writing Wednesdays

Friday = Faith Fridays

On certain "Quick Takes" Fridays, I might bleed my postings into the weekend to make sure the faith angle is covered. In that case, I might do a "Soulful Saturdays" from time to time. Stay tuned for a forthcoming post on my quest to find a spiritual director.

--7--

NATURE SPEAKS. Sometimes, I hear voices when I'm out in nature, and today I heard a whisper reminding me that all living things have something beautiful about them -- even thistles.

Let this be your challenge this weekend, as it will be mine. Where might you find beauty in something or someone that otherwise might be passed by?

May it be a bright and lovely weekend for you.

For more "quick takes," visit Jennifer's Conversion Diary.

back to st. ben's soon

Writing Wednesdays

I can hardly believe that in less than a month, I will be strolling the grounds of St. Benedict's Monastery in St. Joseph, Minnesota, staring at this glassy pond, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Even in merely looking at this photo in anticipation, a growing calm is beginning to take hold.

Last summer was my first to take part in the scholars-in-residence program, Studium, offered by the lovely religious sisters at St. Ben's. According to their website, three major realities are intertwined in monastic life: the love of learning, the desire for God and the commitment to beauty. I definitely found all three present in my visit last year, and I grieved when it ended, though I was eager to return to my family.

My visit there reminded me that we all need time away from whatever it is that captures our energy on a regular basis -- and busy mothers are no exception. A friend recently told me, "I like how you preserve a certain part of yourself for yourself, if that makes sense." It does make sense, and though it might seem selfish on the outside, I really believe it's just the opposite of that. When we take time to redirect the energy that has been depleted in serving others, we replenish the supply so there is more to give away again later.

Last summer, the haven for which I was thirsting at the end of a long summer came to me in the form of St. Ben's. I discovered so much about myself in that all-too-short week, including that I deeply crave introspection. Though I fall more readily into the "extrovert" category when it comes to where I draw the bulk of my energy, I found there that time alone is a precious need of mine as well. While at St. Ben's, I found myself greatly enjoying the life of solitude, which was regularly broken up with midday and evening prayer. Given my Night Owl tendencies, I excluded myself from morning prayer and ate breakfast by myself back in my "apartment." I welcomed midday prayer and lunch with the sisters, retreated back to my space to work, and then merged again with the others for evening prayer and dinner. It was a wonderful and welcomed routine.

Learning I was being given another opportunity at St. Ben's was more than a cause for celebration. As before, I chose summer's end for my reprieve. It is then that I seem most in need of the emotional space and calm Studium offers. And so it will be, soon, thanks in large part to my in-laws' gracious help with the kids. They are gone most of the year now, with a retirement getaway in Arkansas, but they more than make up for their absence by welcoming our children to their home for revolving spans in the summer.

I will share more soon about what it is I'm actually going to be doing when I don my "scholar" hat at St. Ben's, though I'll give you an obvious hint: it has something to do with writing. For now, my question for you is this:

How and where do you seek reprieve? Whether you are a parent of lively children, or a writer with a busy life outside of writing, how do you carve out space that allows you to replenish your reserves?

forum column (july 09): belated thanks to alma mater

Parenting Perspectives: Thanks for the fantastic Fourth memories, MSUM

By: Roxane Salonen, INFORUM

The colorful blasts of Independence Day ’09 may be distant echoes now, but I’ve yet to fully move on from that first week of July.

Perhaps I’m stuck in stage one of the grieving process – the denial.

This won’t resonate with those who haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing Minnesota State University Moorhead on the Fourth of July in past years. But those who have, especially parents with small children, might join me in silent commiseration after attending this year’s pared-down, budget-friendly version of the annual celebration.

Every July Fourth for the past 12 years, our family has packed up the minivan with sunscreen, water bottles and a stroller or two and headed to MSUM.

The mood was always festive, the kids were always giddy. “Can I get a snow cone?” they’d beg at the entrance. Sometimes, we’d relent.

But that was just the beginning. After buying our stash of tickets, we’d stroll past the lively bingo tent and meander toward the duck pond, sucker pull and climbing wall.

Inevitably, someone who’d come before would give us their unused tickets. We’d do the same for someone else on our way out. A spirit of generosity pervaded the grounds.

Over by the library, a crowd would be gathered, attentive to the entertainment in progress: Native American dancing, juggling or a one-person band. Clowns nearby would be shaping balloons into swords and flowers. A few dogs would be lying down, panting in the heat.

Eventually, we’d sample some funnel cake, then stand in line for pony and barrel rides. We wouldn’t leave until buying some pickles-on-a-stick and caramel apples in a dish. A few of our clan would opt for popcorn or ice cream cones or cotton candy.

With the lake folks having evacuated, those of us who remained found in this scene our own secret haven in the shade of the gigantic campus cottonwoods. Happily weaving our way through lines of kids riding decorated bikes from the morning parade, it seemed the perfect blend of food, friendliness and fun.

Somehow, I’d missed all this during my college days, but as a parent, I felt gratitude and pride toward my alma mater for the community offering.

But just as my husband’s guitar store was declared “nonessential” during the height of the spring flood, a large chunk of July Fourth activities was deemed nonessential this year. The pared-down version was a nice gesture, but not quite the same.

As our kids moped around during the afternoon of this year’s holiday, feeling the void, I couldn’t help but wonder how many other “nonessentials” might be compromised in this economic downturn.

But I don’t blame the university. I understand it has to be for now. And for now, the thing to say seems to be this:

Thank you, MSUM, for the wonderful memories, as well as your attempts to preserve some of the fun. I don’t know if we told you how much we appreciated it all when it counted.

If things ever change, we’ll be first to show up at the iron-gate entry on 10th Street South in Moorhead, gratitude in hand.

Roxane B. Salonen works as a freelance writer and children’s author in Fargo, where she and husband Troy are parents to five children.

chocolate chip cookie recipe

It was rather unfair of me to post a photo of my girls making chocolate-chip cookies and toasting to the successful end of their baking project, but failing to post the recipe. Today, Grandma Bev came through for me, and below, you'll find her "secret" (not anymore) recipe, which she is willing to divulge to the public. Thanks, Bev!

Also, yesterday on Peace Garden Mama I, a reader commented on my mother-in-law's great photo collages. I've always thought that Bev should do more with her photography, even though she considers herself an amateur. She has produced a lot of great work through the years, most of it centering around her family and for family, but also, some great nature shots that are deserving of more exposure. Perhaps she'll allow me to share more of her work here from time to time, for starters. In the meantime, she wrote earlier today to tell me that this photo collage of our son's first fishing trip with his grandpa might have made its way onto their area's local television news station, as part of a segment promoting local happenings and scenes. Whether it makes it on or not, I thought it was worth sharing here.

the handing on of sweet tradition

Try as I might, I've never been able to match the time-perfected talent of my mother-in-law's chocolate chip cookies. During their recent visit to their grandparents' home, our girls had the chance to take part in this long-held, sweet tradition. I'm sure they'll be wanting to test out their newly developed skills at home, now that they're back. Kitchen, watch out. Here they come!

the tweaking of peace garden mama

Recently, I discussed some of the changes I've incorporated within my blog of late, including a different header theme. When I wrote my first post back in January 2008, the theme, "Life in the familial garden," seemed an apt description of my new blog's flavor. I'd begun the blog as a takeoff to my monthly parenting columns in The Forum newspaper and was focused on the parenting element of my life. But over time, I wanted my blog to reflect other areas of my life that intertwine with my parenting: faith and writing. And so recently, I happily changed the theme to something that seemed to better describe my blog as it is now. The new theme: "A garden blend of family, faith and following the muse." I like this new theme a lot. It's amazing how wonderful words can make you feel when chosen with intention and placed in the right order. I'm sure that most readers didn't even notice this different theme, but it was an important change for me. It helped me better define what I was doing, what I was after in moving forward with the blog.

That said, the problem with trying to tackle too many subjects is that a blog could risk having an identity crisis. It's not so much a problem for me. I am who I am and I tend to write about whatever element of my life speaks most prominently to me on a particular day -- much like I would upon opening a diary. But I also recognize that my readers are not me, and that not all of my readers are writers. And though I enjoy the freedom of blogging on a whim on whatever subject suits me at the moment or on a particular day, I sense that having some sort of loosely-defined blogging schedule would benefit you, my readers, and yes, probably me as well. It will help me zero in on specific areas of my life on specific days, and free up some hours for other pursuits; namely, paid writing jobs, that children's novel I'm writing that needs my attention, reading (read well = write well), researching and submitting to publishers/agents, and, oh yeah, houswork, bill-paying, child-comforting, etc. Yes, I think this will be a good thing, and I'm excited about it.

As such, while on my way somewhere yesterday, the structure -- how this will be played out -- came to me in a moment of inspiration. Always a lover of alliteration, I've got it narrowed down to this schedule. So, from here on out (or until further notice), my new blog-writing schedule will go like this:

MONDAY= Mama Mondays

WEDNESDAY= Writing Wednesdays

FRIDAY= Faith Fridays

The only problem with this novel plan is that I've taken to the Friday "quick takes," which I typically write on Thursday evenings. It's nice to have a little time off after that Friday blast. And yet, I don't want to slight the faith element. So I'll likely do a separate faith posting as well, if not Friday, then at some point over the weekend. (Hopefully I haven't confused you, in my attempt to clarify.) And, of course, as a non-paid employee of my own blog (which also means I have the freedom to choose my content), I reserve the right to change courses slightly if, for example, something timely comes along, or I'm inspired, or some late-breaking news comes to my attention. I also will post at least one Tuesday a month when my column is published, and there may be an occasional "weekend update." But by and large, I will do my very best to stick to this schedule and see how it goes. If it begins to feel too restrictive, for either me or you, I'll rethink and revamp.

Alright, then, onward with the weekend. Today, I'm in for three separate treats. My girls come home after their week-plus vacation with their grandparents, we'll see The Wiz tonight at Trollwood, and in about an hour, I get to step out for a bit to have lunch with two dear writing friends who just happen to be in town this weekend but are not traveling together. In fact, one of the friends doesn't know the other one is going to be here. It will be a surprise when she walks through the door of the restaurant where we'll be meeting. It also will be a bittersweet gathering, as we'll be commemorating the year-anniversary of the death of one friend's sister. But mostly, we plan to celebrate life and one another.

Now, if I can just find that yellow-brick road. It was here somewhere, I thought...

7 quick takes friday (vol. 17)

-1-

"TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING we're not in Kansas anymore." As a preschooler, my oldest daughter was absolutely entranced by The Wizard of Oz. She used to dress up as Dorothy, complete with glittery, red shoes, and even had a Dorothy Barbie doll (also complete with glittery, red shoes). If you pushed a button on her back, the doll spoke the introductory quote.

Olivia had watched the video so often that she knew it by heart and could sing an adorable rendition of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." One day, while in the playroom of our old house, something sponataneously fell off a shelf as she was passing undearneath. Without missing a beat, she casually said, "Oops! There goes some of me again!" (One of the Scarecrow's lines.) I am so glad I was within earshot to hear it. She had the line and timing down to perfection, but I would never had known had I not been "hovering."

As it turns out, my mother is truly in Kansas this week (more on that later). It's also the debut week of Fargo-Moorhead's wonderful Trollwood Performing Art School's brand-new digs (an outdoor theatre formerly located in North Fargo, now in South Moorhead). Their debut mainstage musical: The Wiz! If all goes as planned, the girls and I will have a chance to see it upon their return from the grandparents' this weekend. I'm looking forward to that!

Stepping outside Fargo today, if I hadn't had a calendar nearby I would not have guessed it's mid-July. It's unseasonably chilly. With the wind whipping around as it has been the last couple of days, it really does seem like a real storm might be a brewin' (as Auntie Em would say). Fortunately for the cast at Trollwood, it's not likely to be a real tornado. Not hot enough.

-2-

I mentioned last week that I had some exciting news to share. Well, I finally shared it, but in case you missed it, you can read about it here in my post, a window closes, a door opens. It has to do with a wonderful opportunity that has come my husband's way. As is often the case with new beginnings, however, it is both a hello and a goodbye. That said, our predominant feeling is one of hope and excitement. I'm so proud of him!

-3-

GIRL TIME W/GRANDPARENTS (CONT.): The girls are complaining a bit because, despite being in a lake town this week, the weather has not cooperated like it did when their brothers were there several weeks back; therefore, they have not had as much time outside. Grandma is doing everything she can to make them happy. A couple days back, she took them on a girls'-day-out shopping spree, where, thanks to the "yellow dot sale," they each got a couple new dresses. Part of the deal was that Grandma would get to snap a few pictures (without complaint from the peanut gallery), and they would oblige her with a "styleshow" for Grandpa upon their return. Here's a peek, thanks, again, to Grandma and her snap-happy finger!

-4-

E-MAIL FROM MOM: I haven't heard as much from my mother as usual this week. That's because she's in Kansas (as mentioned a bit ago). Every year, for the past five years, my mother has taken one of her grandkids on a trip. She rotates every year, visiting two of her dearest college friends; one year in Lynnwood, Washington, the other in Mission, Kansas. So this year, it's my sister's son's turn, and he got Kansas (last year, my daughter went to Washington). He's had a chance to hang out with some of his cousins, as well as the grandchildren of my mom's friends; go fishing; visit a science center; feed baby goats from a bottle; and visit a traveling Legos museum, among other things, not to mention, fly in an airplane. I am so grateful my mom does this. As a family of seven, we'll not likely be flying anywhere as a family for quite some time, if ever. Because of my mother, my sister's and my children will have a chance to experience the wonders of a plane trip at a relatively young age. The side benefit is that they'll have wonderful memories of their trip together for years to come.

-5-

MY FRIEND DONNA'S FORTHCOMING BOOK: I was so elated today when I visited my friend Donna's blog, Embracing Motherhood, to find that her latest book about her friendship with Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta is nearly ready for print. Though she said this book cover is preliminary at this point, I am so thrilled for her. Donna has been increasingly successful as a writer and speaker each passing year, but now, with this latest title finally emerging, I really think her busyness is only going to increase as more of the world learns of her amazing journey walking with this beloved, modern-day saint. Here's the "working" cover:

-6-

THE SIMPLE KISS: From Before I Go: Letters to Our Children about What Really Matters, by Peter Kreeft (Letter #68, p.111, letter title: "K.I.S.S.: Keep It Simple Stupid!"):

"Life is so complicated."

No, it isn't. We make it complicated. Cars and computers and codes are complicated. Birds and bees and beaches aren't complicated. Life is wonderfully simple:

There is good, and there is evil. Love goodness.

There is truth, and there is falsehood. Love truth.

There is beauty, and there is ugliness. Love beauty.

There is life, and there is death. Love life.

There is love, and there is hate. Love love, and hate hate.

There is honesty, and there is dishonesty. Love honesty.

And then you will be deeply happy, and you will know that you have chosen rightly, and that life does not have to be complicated.

But you will know that only if you do it.

-7-

BLOG CHANGES. Maybe it's because of my husband's new job, or because I sense a lot of upcoming changes in my own life, but I recently decided to change the header description of my blog, from "Life in the familial garden" to "A garden blend of family, faith and following the muse." This updated version seemed to better encapsulate what my blog has evolved into over the past year. I also re-coded my Peace Garden Mama I into a three-column format, and I really love the look. (Unfortunately, I can't do the same with this mirror blog, Peace Garden Mama II, which is more limited.) In addition, I've recently added more to my sideline "blog list," including quite a few writing-focused blogs, like Rants and Ramblings by literary agent Rachelle Gardner. I have learned so many great things from these blogs already that I wanted to pass the titles on to others who are interested in the writing journey.

One final blog change, for now, is that I want to include more questions at the end to invite and encourage more people to comment and foster more interaction. So, I'll start with here.

If you have a blog, what is its name/url? If not, do you have a favorite blog you read? Or, if you could create a blog, what would its theme be?

Have a wonderful weekend, all, and for more Friday Quick Takes, head over to Jennifer's host blog, Conversion Diary.

midsummer shrubbery

Today, I took some time out of the middle of my day to write a post about midsummer, and shrubbery, and neutrality, and being, in so many ways, in the middle at the moment -- quite literally as well as symbolically. We are, after all, midsummer, and our family is, at the moment, in transition. But just as I was about to post, the page froze and an error message flashed across it. Unfortunately, I was on borrowed time as it was and was not able to reconstruct the entire post. But I will at least share the photos that inspired it and try to give a quick summation of what I'd wanted to share.

**sigh** (gotta love technology some days...)

So, why is it that the shrubs are so often overlooked, and yet, in their own way, they are every bit as deserving of a second glance as the most beautiful flower, are they not? I am guilty as charged of sometimes walking past them, but never without noticing, and recently, I even stopped to snap their photo. They were ever so gracious about the whole thing. But honestly, I think they rather enjoy their lot of being unobtrusive, shade-loving, quiet splashes of green. They live for not being noticed, for remaining neutral.

I feel like the shrubs right now. I am feeling neutral as I position myself for change. I am not a shrub by nature. I am a bright-colored flower always looking for sun and the beauty of other flowers. Sometimes I find it, sometimes not, but I'm always looking. However, for now it's the shrubs with which I identify, and gladly so. I just want to stay still a while, to rest up a bit, to get ready for what's next. Because I'm not entirely sure what that is, I am finding solace in the cool dirt, the leaves above that are offering shade, and the chance to watch others walk past on their way to somewhere else. I need this time of quiet settling.

I think we all need times to just be shrub-like. And as it turns out, being green isn't so bad after all.

a window closes, a door opens

Late last week, I hinted at an exciting announcement to come. The news was so fresh at the time of that writing that we weren't quite ready to make it public. We needed time to absorb it, to readjust ourselves to what is, to grieve one fading dream while simultaneously celebrating a new beginning.

Thus, it is with mixed emotion that I share the news that by month’s end, my husband, Troy, will hang up his guitar-store-owner hat and try on another one. The direction in which he is turning holds lots of exciting possibilities. He has accepted a position with a company that is both sound and family-friendly, and the role seems extremely well-suited to him. We are profoundly grateful for the chance to move in this new direction.

They say it takes about five years to get a new business up and running smoothly. It was nearly five years ago that Troy summoned the courage to dive into the American dream of small-business ownership, creating Red Star Guitars at 3005 Main Avenue in Fargo. He wasn’t the forerunner of small-business ownership in his family by any means. His father and his father’s father had done the same before him. He had a fairly clear idea of the benefits as well as the pitfalls of such a venture. Troy decided to cast away fears and jump in anyway.

Just this morning, one of our daughters emailed from her grandparents’, where she is staying for a week. She was recalling the beginning of the dream, when so much work was going into setting up the new store and how exciting it was to watch it go from an empty couple of rooms to a place where people would gather, sometimes just to talk, sometimes to try out a new electric or acoustic guitar, sometimes to have their weekly guitar lesson or just pick up some new strings or picks.

We are all walking into this new picture frame of our lives together, in many ways. And so many things have contributed to our coming to this place of recognizing that, despite many successes, the dream wasn’t going to be large enough to sustain our family long term. The final knock came in the spring when, during the crux of the flooding, my husband’s store was among the businesses labeled nonessential that were asked to close their doors temporarily. This local crisis combined with a wounded national economy helped lead us toward the pursuit of another path; one more stable and sure.

Neither my husband nor I will miss the achingly long retail hours – six days a week of work, sometimes without a lunch break, and a lot of lost opportunities with family. It’s been rough-going at times for me having to accept this schedule. And over time, it’s robbed Troy of some much-needed breathing space as well. At the same time, there was a joy in knowing he’d done it and in the ongoing challenge of doing his best to serve his customers well. The evidence that this was, in fact, being accomplished could be found in our encounters out in public when, without fail, someone would spot Troy and approach him with a smile on their face to tell him how much they were enjoying their new guitar or amplifier. He always thought of the customer first and tried to match them up with the best equipment for them, not necessarily the most expensive (unless that was their aim). His genuinely honest approach is what made the business work for as long as it did.

And on occasion, a few fun perks came his way – like having the chance to hang out with Eddie Van Halen and other rock stars he’s admired at the annual National Association of Music Merchants (NAMM) convention in Los Angeles. Sometimes, he was offered free tickets to concerts. Other times, he earned music gear through high sales numbers. His vendors occasionally would treat him to dinner. Sometimes, the kids would get a trinket or two from these perks.

But despite the good moments, there are times elements beyond the control of a single person and even a single business enter in. For Troy, those things have converged in a way that has challenged him to let go and head in a new direction -- working in an environment in which an entire business will not rise and fall on his shoulders. I think he will rest more easily at night and have more chances to reach out to the greater community in new ways. I’m excited for what’s to come for him, and all of us. More time with Daddy can’t be a bad thing. These tender years are speeding past, but it's not too late to hop on the bustling, fleeting train of childhood and enjoy the ride.

I feel certain the best is yet to come and that he'll thrive in his new position. Having multi-tasked successfully day in and day out for the better part of the last five years, he is ready for this new challenge – more ready than he would have been five years ago. Much more has been gained than lost, and though not entirely visible yet, the benefits of all that hard work seem to have helped make the risk worth it. I’m proud of Troy for having jumped when he saw few other options, and I’m proud of him for landing this new position as well. I see in him a brave man who is doing the best he can for his family.

The day he locks the door for the last time will be a hard one, I’m sure, but I’m placing my own emotional bets on our new life ahead. In the meantime, if you’re in the market for some new or used guitar gear, or even if you aren’t, come visit him this week at 3005 Main Avenue in Fargo. He’ll do his best to match you up with something of your liking.

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

From one evening in September 2005 when the kids and I took a "jammie drive" to see the store's progress: