“Jag älskar dig!”

Which means, “I love you!” in the beautiful language I’m trying so hard to learn—Swedish.  This will be one of the native tongues for my second grandchild, as her wonderful Pappa is Swedish, and they are soon to be living there. 

As a point of connection, (and, as a grandmother, when you live as far away as I do, you actively seek points of connection), I’m investing some time in this little project.  She’ll know English also, but she’ll have fun giggling at her “mormor”, (the Swedish name for maternal grandmother), as I stumble through and unintentionally desecrate an otherwise delightful sounding language.

Still “puzzling”

Bob and I are still on this jigsaw puzzle binge.  Our middle daughter, now living in New York, loves these crazy things, so for her birthday this year we are sending her a jigsaw puzzle each month, only with a bit of a twist.  Once she completes the picture, she is to turn the puzzle over and there will be a message “from someone who loves her”.  Which means Bob and I have to put the puzzles together first, roll them up carefully, and send them out to friends and family who write/draw on the blank sides, roll them up again and send them back to me in the same tube.

Postage paid, of course.

Casting call: princesses and mermaids

The most-darling-three-year-old-in-the-Universe, (my oldest granddaughter) is R-E-A-L-L-Y into princess stuff.  Like, it’s a struggle for her mom to get her to change out of one of her (many) princess outfits if they need to go public somewhere, like to the grocery store.

Of course, then she got a mermaid bathing suit, and it’s been rough getting her out of that one, as in this recent chat with her mom:

“Don’t ever make proclamations about how you’ll parent or what your child/ren will do.  That’s how you end up in a suburban bank with a 3-year-old mermaid perched on your hip.”

Ah, parenting…

But, along with Pooh Bear, mermaids, and tea parties, the princess things still rank pretty high on her radar for now.  And as with all things (grand)parenting, it give us great pleasure to follow those interests with her.  What will develop next?

Adam vs. Zeus

Everyone’s a movie critic, and I’m no exception.  I have two beloved family members in “The Industry”, and when I’m around them I try to be a least a little discreet in my comments so I don’t look like a total dweeb.  Or not.

(Then there’s our own bloggin’ bro, Mitch Teemley!  Go check out his site, and watch for his wonderfully reviewed upcoming movie next year!!  GO, MITCH!!) 

Anyway, my movie prowess is not, how would you say, sophisticated.  I cried at Bambie and Jungle Book…in college…even though I had seen them before and knew the story line.  I’m okay with reversal of fortune, but still need that contrived, oh-there-you-are-again-how-did-that-happen Hallmark thing.  And above all I have to have a happily-ever-after ending.  I mean, I might even allow the glass slipper to have a few smudges and scratches and cracks, but it still basically fits her foot as they dance their way into the castle, roll credits.

That’s what doorbells are for.

Best dating story: Bob and I were coming home from an evening out.  As I was still in college, I lived with my parents in the summer, and my dad, as a stickler for protecting his family, always had the door locked if I got home late enough and they had gone to bed.  Naturally, I also always had a key to get in when my soon-to-be finance would deposit me at the front step.

The key, however, only fit the main entrance, not the outer screen door…

What happened next was almost something out of Ferris Beuller’s Day Off.  Bob, being the practical science-guy he is, couldn’t understand why I didn’t just ring the door bell, (which, to this day, seems like the most sagacious option), but in deference to my objections, he pulled his little Pinto (remember those?) around to the driveway and helped me go from the big wooden storage box, to the top of his car, and onto the garage roof which led to my own second story window.  Thankfully, I had left the window open, but DRAT!  There was that locked screen window (what is it with screens??) that I had to poke my fingers through to raise, hoping that the family dog wasn’t currently my room ready to sound the intruder alarm.

Having successfully deposited his future bride safely, albeit not conveniently, within her home, Bob took off and I went to bed, thinking I would relate the incident to my folks…someday.  Until I got up that morning and they asked me how I had gotten in last night, as Dad noticed he had locked the screen door, and Mom was wondering what my shoes were doing in the garage.

At what point in a young person’s life does she realize that her parents are not stupid?

Now, Dad is a fixer; property is something that must be improved and/or maintained, so my screen window didn’t stay impaled for long, allowing for mosquitoes, bees, and other pests equal access to my room, (geewhiz, hadn’t thought of that one).  And thankfully, I didn’t dent Bob’s car, pull off the guttering or slip and break my neck scampering up the shingles.  In retrospect (sigh) I should have just rung the doorbell!

Which is kinda the point the writer of Hebrews is making when he says:

“So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.”

I wonder how much wasted time, energy, and (gulp!) destruction I have caused by not first coming boldly to my Father’s presence.  What fears have stolen my peace, what anxieties have poked holes in my power, and what kind of hellacious peril I have put myself (and others) in due to my lack of faith in God’s most holy acceptance of me because of His Son!

And he STILL takes me on dates: roses and camo. What more could a girl want??

After all, I’m one of the family.  If I’m feeling locked out, I just have to ring the bell.

Hebrews 4:16  Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

And I quote, “NO!”

Bob and I were incredibly fortunate to spend this past Christmas with our oldest granddaughter and her family at their beautiful new home in Los Angeles.  Let me clarify: our oldest granddaughter is 2-years-old and her family is our oldest child and her husband.  Now, Bob and I have memories of when this precious bundle was born, when she started to walk, and one of my favorite life events is rocking her as she fell asleep in my lap even just this past summer.

That’s when she had just turned two, but even then the storm was beginning to brew.

And this past holiday season, it was the southern California equivalent of a nor’easter.  Of course, being the parents of three children of my own, this comes as no real surprise.  As much as I know her parents love and

On tap, (so to speak…)

At this writing, I just got off of a vid-chat with our youngest and her 4-day-old firstborn—what true beauty!  Words cannot express, so why bother even trying?!?

Now this is for the less squeamish among us, but let’s get real.  Breastfeeding is the BEST nutrition for a newborn, it’s the top-shelf stuff as it was intended to be.  And it’s not simply about nutrition, but the closeness of the mother’s body provides physical warmth for an infant’s unregulated internal temperature. Then there’s the soothing of hearing her mother’s heartbeat, as well as

Away in a bathtub…er, manger

At this writing, our second granddaughter is celebrating her first Christmas, having been born only a few days ago.  This was an interesting birth.  Granted, all my girls were born 30+ years ago, but to make things even more interesting, this wonderful event took place in Scandinavia, and things are a little different there—our little jewel was birthed underwater in a special bathtub, after which the new family was taken to a special area in the adjoining hotel for three days while they adjust and learn and ask questions and are generally pampered, rested, and supported until released home.   

Finally, someone is making some sense!

Not sure what Dopey’s part was in this reenactment….

Which is a far cry from the little Lego manger scene that I’m looking at right now (belonging to our first granddaughter, whose home we are in for Christmas!)  In fact, right now everyone is still asleep, the packages are just itching to be unwrapped, and I have enjoyed a few quiet moments reading Luke chapter 2. 

Now, if Scandinavia could provide such a nice environment for our sweet new bundle, why couldn’t God provide something a little more upscale than a dirty feeding trough in a stinky stable for His own Son??  On the surface, one could think…well, one could think many things, I suppose.  And do, but mistakenly.  

No matter how much we learn about conception, pregnancy and birth, even I have too much of an artistic soul to arrogantly think we can ever fully grasp the sublimity of it all, nor can anyone within a paradigm of a closed universe grasp the Grand Design.  For crying out loud, those of us who ascribe to a divinely open universe can’t see it all either! 

Which makes me think that this temporal life is likewise akin to a pregnancy as we are being formed and ready to be birthed into Eternity.  A whole bunch of things take place inside the womb preparing a child for their first appearance.  Isn’t the same happening to me, and those whom I so dearly love?  Who am I to question or doubt God’s unique plan and mysterious process He is using to bring about their preparation for the heavenly birthing process?

“Just as you cannot understand…the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things.”

And He does all things well. 

Ecclesiastes 10:8,9; 11:5  Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

Even angels need occasional clean up

Our oldest daughter and her husband had a recent parenting experience.    

I love these.  I call it “payback”. 

Actually, that’s not the main reason I love it.  (Okay, It’s one of the reasons, just not the MAIN one.) 

My son-in-law was celebrating his 40^th—really good stuff.  And being the wise parents that they are, they decided to ask precious Auntie Laurie who lives nearby to watch little newly toddling Gracie overnight while Mommy and Daddy took off on a fun and relaxing birthday “date”.  So smart.  So

Blogging Blast #2: Hey you! What’s going on out there…?!

(So just what is a Blogging Blast??  — BLOGGING BLAST #2)

I planted a green bell pepper plant next to a purple bell pepper plant this summer.  Now my green plant is giving me hybrids.  I’m not much of a gardening guru, but I suspect that there has been some serious botanical hanky-panky going on in that little plot. 

By any other color, would taste as sweet….

Diversity and variety are wonderful in the natural world—plants and flowers, dogs, people.  I love how God designed our DNA and genetics such that, when fitted together in various combinations, we get new-ness.  I love how the real flower lovers know how to combine them to make new colors and shapes to delight us in the spring and summer.  I love how you can