Loaves and fishes

Enjoyed a shortened day at work, thanks to my immediate boss allowing me to take a few personal hours in the afternoon.  I met Heidi at the grocery store where we worked between the "rock" of having no money for anything including groceries and the "hard place" of needing to feed the childrem something.  Heidi has been a magician in the kitchen, creating wonderful meals out of the garden and the last few items of a quickly depleating food storage.  The fridge has even been free of condiments the last week or two.  It would have looked like we were cleaning the fridge except for the fact that there was nothing to put back in it.  Now I see how Christ worked the loaves and fishes.  Heidi is working the zucchini and cucumbers.

We walked over to the school and picked up the girls.  This is the third straight day that I have been able to get the kids from school or have lunch with them.

We have a get-together BBQ with 3 neighbors this evening.  We are making a few things to share.  I just took out my second set of loaves of zucchini bread from the oven.  I have also finished simmering a pot of brazilian beans on the stove.  I still need to make some rice.  We have the chicken breasts marinating in the fridge and a package of hot dogs waiting for their turn on the grill when we get over there.

Heidi's sister had a few free passes to the pool this afternoon so Heidi to the C and two older girls and invited one of BG's and C's friends to go too.  M and BR stayed with me.  The kitcken smells like Cinnamin and Garlic.

Friday night!  I'm glad for the weekend.

Maybe I will make some rice pudding tomorrow.  I have a great baked custard style rice pudding recipe  and if I add raisins I will be able to eat it all myself!!

M is getting into the shredded paper again.

Chau

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New addition

New addition to my dream instrument collection. 
It is a relatively cheap bass respectively, a Squire, the little brother to Fender Guitars Co.  It is a beautiful bass with a maple neck and pearl block inlays, modeled after the vintage 1977 Fender jazz bass.  I was 5 years old when it was originally released!  The following is the company write up on it.

Vintage Modified Jazz Bass® ‘77

The Vintage Modified Jazz Bass ’77 evokes the age of funk and the dawn of punk. It’s a retro-inspired gloss black beauty with Duncan Designed™ Jazz Bass pickups, black plastic Stratocaster® knobs, one-piece maple neck with white binding and white pearl block inlays, 20-fret maple fingerboard, and a three-ply black/white/black pickguard.

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Good Reads!

Following Mer's example, I will represent the other half of the library with my "Good Reads"

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My personal goals

This is a list of long term personal goals that I want to accomplish.  They will be posted by my bed.  They are personal goals that deal with personal interests and desires and do not reflect any of my other family or spiritual goals.

1) Finish my CNA certification.
2) Lose weight until I weigh 215 lbs and maintain the weight.
3) Start a business.
4) Pay off the house.
5) Have Life Insurance on myself.
6) Have $250,000.00 in savings.
7) Create and write in a journal everyday.
8) Write at least 10 full stories and have them published.
9) Own a Fender Jazz Bass, an acoustic bass and a Fender Stratocaster guitar.
10) Learn to play the bass proficiently enough to play in community theater.
11) Learn to play the guitar proficiently for fun.
12) Compose and write a hymn.
13) Properly manage my diabetes.
14) See a Dallas Cowboys game in Cowboys stadium with my sons. (both of them)
15) Take my wife on a second honeymoon without worrying about the cost.

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To Richard

There are moments in life that resonate with you, fleeting experiences that have a profound affect on critical points of your life. Some may only take on profundity with the aid of time and perspective as the act crystallizes its impact as a bridge over life’s severe chasms. The act, motivated by simple love and moved upon without complex or manipulative forethought, carries with it the power to soothe, to act as a balm to a fearful and mournful heart. I have experienced such moments. I was the recipient of such an act seven years ago and have never fully realized the impact nor have I expressed the gratitude that I have felt for that expression of love. It came unrequested and unexpected. It was truly a response from a loving Heavenly Father to an unspoken prayer, to a need unrealized by the recipient.

Background:

When my daughter was born, life started to rotate a little slower. The hospital seemed to be chaos to a parent unprepared. The baby was taken from us moments after she was born. She was placed in an ICU unit with little explanation. Her care started with the nurse assigned to the ICU and continued to a supervisor and then to a team of individuals attempting to get my little new born daughter to breathe and retain oxygen. There was, as of yet, no mention of the pending diagnosis that would scare, frighten and throw me abruptly into a hitherto fore unimaginable changing of life’s paradigm. She was stabilized with the use of 4 liters of oxygen pumped into a tiny tent.

I left the hospital and my wife that night, who had yet to see her new daughter or to receive any explanation to her condition, and went to bed at mom’s house. I was awakened by a sobbing wife, requesting that I come meet with the doctors in the ICU. I rushed to my baby’s bedside. A very cold and clinical specialist asked if I was the father and then abruptly began explaining how my daughter was different, what challenges she would face and what to expect for her life. A tender family physician attempted to temper the analytical daggers cutting on my heart but by then the room was spinning and all I could do was mumble to them that we needed to go explain this to my wife, who still had not yet seen nor held her baby.

Life altered on that day. Like the grind of changing gears on a bike, the picture and vision of life cracked. I didn’t know how to put that picture back together because I didn’t know how the new picture was supposed to look. For a few days, all I had was the empty picture frame from where life had once been held.

Not knowing or having a concept of the future but only knowing that my vision of life for my newest daughter had changed abruptly and that she might not experience life, in the way that I expected or understood it, caused me to mourn for her and for myself.

I was still in mourning the next evening. My other children were back home now with me. Heidi was with my daughter in the hospital. I had put the other three children in bed when the doorbell rang unexpectedly. Richard was at the door by himself, holding a Tupperware bowl. I invited him in and he went to the kitchen and dished me up a meal that he had made, under the guise of “wanting me to try it.” When it was ready, he asked me about my baby and how I was feeling. He then sat down next to me, let me eat, and proceeded to allow me to talk, cry and unload for the best part of an hour. He comforted me and gave me the shoulder that I didn’t know that I needed. He listened without judgment and let me mourn. He helped me get it out, to breathe and refocus. When I was done, he left quietly, in Richard’s unassuming way, as if he had done nothing. But for a few moments he carried me when I was afraid of moving forward. He was sensitive to a need and I am forever grateful.

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