Rethinking......

It is entirely possible that this continuance of the "lock down of 2020" has caused my my mind to  skip a few steps. Along with time, reason seems to be slipping away from me
I decided, a couple of weeks ago, to make some bread. Well, apparently half of the cooks in the United States have had the same idea. Bread has been a bit scarce, at the grocery stores, so making our own bread, has seemed a logical step, for the home-bound masses.
Because of this sudden need to create home-baked bread, flour and yeast have also been absent from  grocery shelves. Last week, I finally found some yeast. Now, I reasoned with myself, was the time to  make some bread..
But, what kind of bread should I make? Sour Dough sounded creative and delicious. Turning to the Internet, I discovered about twenty different recipes for Sour Dough Starter. Everyone, I pondered,  must be making Sour Dough Bread. Sour Dough must be all the rage.
I proceeded to measure the ingredients. But, right before I began to add the liquid to the dry ingredients, I had one of those "deja vu " moments.
OM Golly. I had done this before!  I vividly remembered making sour dough starter. I baked the bread a couple of times and then, because I had to "grow" it by adding stuff to the starter, at regular and seemingly unending intervals, the starter began to multiply and multiply.
I remember trying to give batches of the starter, to my friends, but no one would take it! I ended up pitching the whole mess into the garbage. Actually, I recall, that I may have done this Sour Dough thing, several different times...once in the 60s and another time in the 80s.
So, I ended my bread baking, before it began. After all, bread is back on the shelves.
I wonder if anyone has a recipe for paper products?

Good Lord. We are never satisfied. We never have enough. Remind us to live simply and carefully. Show us how to use our gifts to Your best advantage.

"Good Golly Miss Molly"

All of my life, I have been afflicted by an unusual obsession. My brain is full of song lyrics. Not anything original. I've never written song lyrics. But, instead of useful knowledge, like math facts or scientific explanations, my head is full of other people's musical poetry.
I have the weird ability to remember lyrics for any word or occasion. It is hereditary. My sister does it, and I think my mother was guilty of teaching both of us to do it.  Just today, my husband mentioned that he needed to do more walking. I broke into a loose and lively rendition of Fat's Domino's "I'm Walkin". Did a complete verse, by golly.
When my children were young, I was always singing. My boys, particularly one of them, would say, after a quick concert of, "Where Did You Get That Hat?", "I'm Great and No One Knows It", or
"The KU Fight Song"...........Stop Mother!  This obvious disdain of my talent used to bother me. But, guess what my most vocal critic does for his lively hood, now that he doesn't have to listen to me sing, daily? He write songs!
Sometimes, I can't remember what makes me think of certain songs. Yesterday, an obscure  Beatles song popped into my mind, and I started singing. "Her name was McGill. She called herself  Lil. But, everyone knew her as Nancy. " Tomorrow, I'll be singing another gem, from my cerebral catalog.
I can't help it. Life is just one big, long, song.

Dear God. You made each one of us unique. What an incredible accomplishment! Show us how to use our individual talents, to manifest our Faith in You. Your will be done. God Loves Us.

Umbrella Weather

I have a friend, who recently reminded me, that a smile can change just about everything. She's correct. A smile can alter your attitude. Try it. It works. The smile you wear can change the attitude and outlook of those you meet and greet.
Do you remember the song "Just Let a Smile Be Your Umbrella"? It was written almost one hundred years ago, by Sammy Fain and Irving Kahal. It's a really fun and happy song.
Well, as the lyrics go, we are experiencing a "a rainy, rainy day". Folks are tired of being cooped up and the majority of us are pretty cranky. I'm wearing a frown, more and more often, these days.To counteract the grumpies, I call and tell our residents, at the retirement community, a joke every day. Today it was an umbrella joke. According to my research, umbrella jokes, like umbrella songs, are plentiful. Umbrellas are worth writing about.
Here's one to make you smile.
    Why do folks in big cities carry umbrellas? .....Umbrellas can't walk.
Here's another one.
    Why did the man put his umbrella away and open his coin purse?..He was hoping for a change  in the weather.
     Did you smile? Because "a smile will bring the sunshine, and you'll never get wet".

Dear Lord. Show us how to enjoy the life you have given us. Help us see "the sunshine" We know that you are always watching over us. Let us remain thankful.

Reflections

Mother's Day always evokes a torrent of emotions, in everyone. We all have mothers, of course, and most of us have really fond memories of them. However, this Mother's Day (social distancing, masks, Zooming, etc.) is very different from our normal "once-a-year celebration" of our moms. In honor of this, I am going to focus on my children. Children, biological or otherwise related, make us moms. My four children have made me who I am.

First of all, let it be known that no mother is perfect. I certainly haven't been. The reason, just might be, that neither are my four kids. But, moms, being who we are, continue to love them unconditionally. We cherish the crudely constructed, hand-made presents, from years past, as much as we do the flowers and items arriving, these days, from Amazon. Just like Mary Poppins, I consider my children "practically perfect, in every way".

I am very proud of my children. They are all well-educated, productive adults. They have, among them, seven college degrees. This, to me, is amazing, especially when you consider that their maternal great grandmother never learned to read or write (in any language). And, another grandfather never went beyond the 6th grade. 

All four are outstanding parents. Not only have they managed to avoid criminal activities (I'm fairly certain about that), they have produced children who are all pleasant and creative individuals. Grandchildren are the best! Thanks to my terrific grandchildren, my refrigerator has not been devoid of artwork, since 1960 something!

I wish they lived closer and that we could see all of them more often. But, they don't and we can't. I am truly thankful that they have busy lives.

Dear God. Thank you for my children (and grandchildren). I am blessed.