My Youngest Baby Is Driving..........

Well.  Today was the day.  Today was the day I knew my Youngest Baby would pass his driver's test.

I don't know why we put it off for so long.  I think we may even have forgotten about it for a while......but then we remembered.

Luckily I knew exactly where the birth certificate and social security number papers were, due to the move.  I carefully loaded those and all other "important" papers into the glove box of the car.  Once there, I promptly forgot about them, and there they stayed until discovered by my Oldest Baby when he was going through car insurance papers.

We would also need a piece of mail with Youngest Baby's name on it.  I took a college propaganda pamphlet that we have been receiving multitudes of lately and felt prepared.  We had a little hiccup when it was discovered that Youngest Baby did not have his glasses with him at this time.  He barely passed an eye exam and did not even offer that his glasses had been lost in the move.  Either that, or they are still at my Fourth Son's house where we certainly hope, but do not know, for sure, they were left by accident on their last trip to visit.  

Still he passed, as I knew he would.  So on we go to the Department of Revenue office (don't you love that they finally got honest with that title?  It's no longer the Department of Motor Vehicles--just call a spade a spade and get real, people.  We are all about the Revenue, we even have a sign that proves it. ;)) and I offer the college propaganda pamphlet, clearly addressed in my Youngest Baby's name.

It is unacceptable.  They need a utility bill in his name, which, naturally, being 17 years old and junior in high school, he does not have.  But wait!  The registration for the car would work, as long as I am willing to sign a paper giving him "permission" to use my address.  As if my address is not also his home.  I sign the paper and he goes out to look through the glove box for the registration.

I am not worried because I just had to renew the tags on my car, for which I had this registration just a few weeks ago.  He comes back with 8 years of proof of insurance, the title for the car, and the Rock Star's birth certificate.  But no registration.

At which point the lady says that I can just run to the bank, get a copy of my last statement, which does not have my Youngest Baby's name on it (but that doesn't matter since I signed the paper), but will show my new address.  Now, what kind of sense this makes escapes me, and I assume could only possibly make sense to government employees, but aside from that, it would only take a few minutes to run to the bank and get said statement.  So we did that, discussing crazy govt. rules most of the way.

On our way back to the refreshingly honest Department of Revenue, it hit me.  This was my last time doing this.  I remembered the first time.  It was kind of sad.  The second time was bittersweet but I was resigned to it.  The third time, kind of a pain because I was tired and there were 2 of them..........but this was my last time.  I wasn't even nervous this time, I was that sure he would pass.  And now it was almost over.  I began humming You Can't Go Home Again by Wynona Judd but had to stop to concentrate on not actively crying.  Something about sons and how oblivious they are to such moments being a blessing floated through my head and then we were there.  We had the (impossible to explain, but hey, whatEVer) required documentation and the cash.  We were ready.

The rest went pretty smoothly, including the part where they offered to go ahead and register him to vote despite the fact that he is not 18 years old.  Have you noticed that?  It's not so new but I have noticed the strangest people, at the strangest times, trying to register me and/or my children to vote in the past few years.  You may have noticed it too.  Interesting, to say the least.  He declined the kind offer with a straight face.  I was so proud, I really was.  His face was so straight that I was unsure if he even noticed that this was strange.  How would he know the difference?  How would any kid who just got his license?  I'm sure it's just a public service.  Right?  Anyway, you might just be aware and see if you don't notice that, because I find it a cloying overstep that should not be dismissed, let alone indulged.

The rest of the trip went smoothly and we decided to stop at The Heart and Home for lunch.  I announced that I was sad, that My Youngest Baby was happy, and that I might cry before we even got in the door.  That Linda, being the angel that she is, arranged a brownie hot fudge sundae in honor of both of our moods, and we still got him to school in time to attend his afternoon classes.  

Mom, it's no big deal.   Please don't cry, Mom.

On the way to school I told him it was a new era in his life, and mine.  I must say I do relish the fact that I don't have to drive anymore unless I just want to.  I told him to shoot my Fourth Son a text and let him know that we must know, and get, those glasses back if at all possible.  I told him he would never remember the score of this particular test in 20 years.  He said he bet he would.  We will have to wait and see, it will take 20 years to find out who's right.  But it will probably be me.  heh heh

Spring Ramble 2015 and Waffle Brownies........

Weather in the 70's down here and I had the day off.  As on now it is 4:25 pm and I still have not taken a shower.  I washed my face, brushed my teeth, threw my hair up out of my face and took some pictures.

The maple trees in the front of the house are sending out pretty red leaves.  I took this picture on my phone and then played with the contrast.  It turned out pretty.  You can't see the leaves too well but I think the red comes through pretty well.

That's the field that the cows are still in across the road.  They are getting ready to have some more babies.  I have so loved having the cows all winter.  

I bought an old rusted wire basket at the Heart & Home Tea Room/Cafe (you can like them on FB  here) last fall and planted pansies and bulbs in and around it   The pansies are waking up and there will soon be Jonquils, Hyacinths and Muscari all over the place.

I started to clean out the leaves, but thought better of it.  It's still early, even down here in SoMo, and those leaves help retain water and keep everything warm.  They won't hurt a thing, and in Missouri you can't really count out another blizzard or ice storm till May, if then.

This looks like a petunia, which may have come from a Mexican Petunia I planted last summer or might just be a volunteer.  I don't even know for sure.  Either way it is very welcome and so good to see a pretty color in these early days.  I think there might be some crocuses in there too, but so far I haven't seen them.  Might be hiding under the leaves, I guess.

The Hyacinths are poking up their heads.

I think this one will be white.

The Forsythia is blooming out, and the lilacs are budding out.

Forsythia is always first.  Such a relief to see it's cheerful yellow blossoms coming out, even on foggy days.

It won't be long till there are pretty flowers everywhere.  I've gathered up what bulbs I have left and started gathering up my seeds.  It won't hurt to throw the easy ones out and the bulbs may go ahead and bloom this year.  Or they may wait til next year.  They do what they want, which is just the way I like it.  Throw 'em in the ground and forget about 'em.  See what happens.  It's a little method I like to call "benign neglect" and all it takes is resisting the urge to pull them out of the ground when you see something coming up.  Wait and see what it is.  This approach goes quite a ways beyond gardening in my life, and I must say, I have hit my stride.  There is no pressure or maintenance work, you do it once and have happy surprises months later.  These happy surprises become old friends over the years.  You endure the seasons together, waiting for the time you will be together again.  After so many years, when you notice a lot more blooms happening than the year before, and the year before that, dig them up and separate out some of the bulbs and plant them farther apart.  They pyramid, some of them, and this way you can multiply your happy surprises many times over the years.

My youngest baby planted a start of pink honeysuckle by the back fence today.  I don't know if it was still alive or not but, why not.  If it doesn't come up, it doesn't come up, and it's not like I can't get plenty of starts down here.  I figure it will cut down on what the dogs can see to bark at and I love the smell of honeysuckle.

Today was a day that made me feel like I was in college again.

The not having to go anywhere on a weekday.

The not having to do anything but still keeping laundry going, cooking what I feel like and nothing that I don't.
Driving down the road to get a piece of pizza, a Mt. Dew, and a bag of Rolos.

For lunch.

About 2 pm.

I'm making lasagna, with the idea of using brownie mix in my waffle iron running through my head.

 Tomorrow, I will have to get back to real life, but today.........

Today has been filled with sunshine soaking into my bones, a moisture treatment for my hair, goooood music and my hands in the dirt, admiring my happy surprises and thinking about taking a nap.  Knowing I can if I want to, but not worried about it either way.  If it happens, it happens.

Later that day.......
Ok, I made the brownie waffles.  If you like the crispy corners best, I have found a source of happiness for you.

I just used boxed mix and put it right in the waffle iron.  I cooked them a little longer than when the "done" light came on.  The hardest thing was getting them out.  Finally I just loosened them up and flipped them onto a plate.  But man oh man, are they ever good!  Crispy AND chewy!
To make a peanut butter glaze combine 2 cups powdered sugar, 1/2 cup peanut butter, a couple teaspoons of room temperature butter, and enough milk to make the glaze.  Drizzle this over warm brownie waffles.  Get a big glass of milk.  Prepare not to move for a couple of hours.

I hope you enjoyed your day as much as I did, but I doubt it.  There is always tomorrow, take some time to take it in and savor it.

....And I Know He Watches Me......

It has been a long cold snap, even in Southern Missouri.  Winter drags on with everything covered in snow and ice.  People's patience wears thin and their tempers grow short.  We all wait for the gradual warming to start, the days to grow longer, and the green to peek through the muddy ground.

It has been a strange time for me.  When I decided to move back down here, I assumed that God would make my path clear.  If He has, I have not been smart enough to catch on.  This has been a waiting time for me, even a questioning time.  We probably should not question God, but whom among us hasn't?  

I tell myself to be calm, give it time, and count my blessings.  Among my blessings are the fact that I am again Lindy here.  When my mother died, it was my greatest and most selfish sorrow that there would be no one left to call me by my childhood nick name of Lindy.  The funny thing about that is the fact that I had forgotten about my father.  Little did I know at that point what the future held in store for us, but within 10 years we would put aside our differences and he would provide me a safe place to live.  A place in the country, with cows across the road and the best neighbors in the world.  Neighbors who call me Lindy to distinguish me from the other Melinda's down here, most of whom are called Mindy.

So I tell myself to take a lesson from the past and to have patience with myself as this new phase of my life works itself into a discernible pattern that I can understand.  I look at all that has happened in the past almost 11 years and imagine what might happen in the coming decade.  But I still pray for signs from God that I am doing the right thing.

The strange thing is, even in this time of uncertainty and confusion, I get these signs.  In my mother's family, there exists the significance of the white feather.  In 1995 we lost my cousin, Jon Michael.  He was just 25 and had never married or had children, so it was a particularly bitter loss for us.  It felt like we had no shred of him left on earth.  Nothing new to ever be discovered about him, no child to remind us, in the future, of the joy he brought to our family.  There would be no seeing his eyes, or his walk develop as a child grew, or hearing his laugh for us, ever again.  We were just devastated by his loss.  There were many things to remember that gave us joy, though.

.........The way he used to pretend to be Johnny Cash, complete with a little guitar, and how he stopped everything onstage at the Browning Centennial to exclaim to his sister "You're spitting in the mike, sis!!"  ..........

The way he used to hold his food in his mouth as a child and then when his parent's chided him to eat, he would say "I'm chewing DAD!" .........

 How funny it was to watch him put his prom date in the car during the years that plantation dresses with hoop skirts were popular.........

The cars he wrecked, and the time he passed out at the grain bins on Main Street of Browning and woke up unscathed, with little memory of how he had ended up there, but a perfect half-circle indentation of the steering wheel in his forehead as proof that he had slept there for many hours.  That indentation took a whole day to fade and left a bruise.  

We carried him pretty high for that for the remainder of his life.  

.......How he loved watching the movie Forest Gump during his long illness and how sick we all got of watching that movie, even though it was good the first 3 times we saw it......... 

It was after his funeral, sitting outside the home he had lived in since the day he was born, that we received a gift delivered from an unexpected and unknowing source.  A gift that would last in our family.  A talisman that continues to show up when we most need it with no explanation as to how it could happen.

We were sitting at the picnic table, outside the house that had been Jon Michael's home for his entire life, my mother, my aunt, (Jon Michael's mother) and me.  A little boy ran over from across the road.  My aunt was not in a mood to receive company that day, and even my usually courteous mother was not up to being nice to a rambunctious, energy filled little boy.  He was just a little boy, like all little boys, full of life and enthusiastic movement.  I wasn't even sure who he was.  I am still unsure to this very day.  It fell to me to smile at the child and say hello.  He seemed not to notice the general dark mood hanging over the picnic table, as boys will do.    He gave us a hearty hello and when he received the sad half-smiles that followed, asked what was wrong, as he started climbing on top of the picnic table.  My aunt shot him a thunderous look, which in his innocence he did not seem to notice, as I explained that we were just sad that day. I saw  no need to explain or announce death to a random stranger/child and truly was just trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.   I watched him make his climb to make sure he didn't slip on his quest to the tabletop.  He planted his small, booted feet on the tabletop and announced " I gotta surprise for ya!!"  I summoned the strength to raise my eyebrows and say "Oh?  What's that?"  I was thinking the sooner we could get this over with, the better.  I remember those exact words going through my mind at that exact moment.

He smiled a sweet smile and raised his little fist in the air.  He shouted "Look at this!" and he threw a white feather up into the air.

Words fail to describe the change  that came over us as that white feather, surely a treasure to this unknown little boy, sailed up and then started it's slow, meandering descent.  He continued to smile as we watched, with goosebumps, the feather eddying on the breeze, just like the feather in the movie that we had all come to despise due to repeated watching........and we knew that Jon Michael was all right, that even in our despair and anger God was with us, and would always be.

Thrilled with his gift, the little boy jumped off the table without injury and ran away to find more treasures, on a quest known only to him.  I know that little boy had no idea he was used as a messenger that day, and could have had no idea the change he made in our lives.  Whoever he was, he will never be forgotten by any of us.  That's the beauty of it, and that is why I know I will survive this period in my life.  I have often wondered when he found that feather.  Had he had for a while?  Did he find it just a minute before?  Did he try to show it to his mother, who didn't take the time to exclaim over it?  Is that why he headed across the street to show it off?  I would love to know the whole story but I seriously doubt that he would remember this incident, even if I could find him.

Last night I went to bed exhausted, questioning God about what he wanted me to do and why it was taking so long for me to know what, why, and how.  Jack interrupted my prayers by rushing into my room and throwing up beside my bed.  GREAT, I thought, and got up and attended to him and the mess and forgot all about my prayers.  I had terrible, scary dreams that got me up at 3:30 am and saw me still awake at my old friend, 4 o'clock in the morning, worrying about fires and demon possession and babies in my future.  It was a strange night, to say the least.  One I could make no sense of whatsoever.

Then the morning came, as it always does.  I slept late and awoke to find this on the floor on my bathroom:

White feathers appear in my life often, and I always know whom they are from.  It cannot be denied that I have now moved to the land of white feathers, with all the chicken and turkey houses down here.  I often drive down roads that are literally lined with white feathers, when the grass is green and a truck has recently passed, and it fills me with joy.  These feathers obviously have an easily understood source, but they fill me with joy anyway.

White feathers that appear in my house, however, are another story.  These I accept as gifts and signs from God himself.  My mother called these, among other things, as God Winks.  A God wink is a little sign, if you are observant enough to notice it, that is a common thing that means something only to you.  A commonplace sign with an uncommon message meant just for you, that no one else would understand or think twice about.  Once you start to notice them, they happen often, everywhere.

In these days of winter, with snow on the ground, and the absence of feather pillows in my house, there can be only one explanation for me on this morning.  Just when I needed it most, there it is.  It makes no earthly difference to anything going on in my life except my attitude toward my circumstances.  It reassures me when nothing else can.  It makes no sense but all the difference in the world, to me.

Sometimes, when we are out of patience and fighting to hold onto our faith, when anger invades our souls, when all our thoughts are about ourselves, we need to trust.  We should stop, breathe, and hold onto our faith.  We need to realize that everything is not about us.  Often, unbeknownst to us, it is our turn to be a messenger for others.  God may be using us to help someone else, in ways we could never know or even guess at.  We may never get to know who, what, why or how.  It doesn't matter.  All that matters is that we pray "Thy will be done", and trust that it is, it will be, somehow, someway, whether we understand it or not.  I continue to wonder what will happen next in the land of Lindy and white feathers, but I'm still willing to wait.  Maybe that's just the lesson I'm supposed to be learning now.  Perhaps patience is the lesson, or perhaps the lesson is just to be still, and know that he is God.  Whatever the lesson is, today I can resign myself to finding out in His time, without fear.  All because of a white feather on my bathroom floor.

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.