Sweatin to the Oh No! or Oh Lucy VII

They opened a new exercise facility in my apartment complex and I was inspired. When I realized I was about to reach the first age that I would be tempted to lie about, I was motivated. When the bathroom scale reached an obscene number, I was hysterical, uh I mean determined.

I purchased some workout clothes that would hide as many of the reasons I needed to work out as possible, and asked my sister to go with me for moral support. She teeters between being inspiring and discouraging since she is 4 years older and can outrun me at a walk, but I needed all the help I could get.

I set what I thought were tiny little goals so I would feel accomplished and started my workout. But as my sister was jogging on the treadmill I was coming face to face with my mortality. One minute and 28 seconds after I started walking, the treadmill arrogantly slowed to cool down mode without even consulting me and the electronic readout said that I had reached my maximum heart rate. My tiny goals had suddenly become life threatening and visions of pacemakers flashed through my mind.

Did I get discouraged? Not at all! OK, my sister is going to read this, so yes.
Did I go back the next day? Yes! No, really I did.
Did I do any better? I went back the next day – enough said!

I have now been going back at least 4 times a week for a month, with my notebook in hand to chronicle every tiny improvement and keep myself motivated. Occasionally, that motivation becomes very important. Take today for example. I leaned over to pick up my pen which had fallen out of the cup holder to try and catch it before it rolled off the end of the treadmill. Realizing immediately that I was about to follow it, I popped back up catching the corner of my eye on my notebook. It just happened to be propped up on top of the machine near the emergency stop button. Let’s just say my exit was less than graceful but I am not convinced it warranted the guffaw that came from the guy two machines down.

Am I going back tomorrow? Well, I am inching closer to my age of denial, farther from my obscene weight and my seemingly life threatening goals have been reached and exceeded without the help of a pacemaker – enough said!

Stick to It or You Can Run But You Can't Hide

Not gonna do it
Not gonna play
I’ve had enough of these little games

I’m tired of going
I just need to rest
Since when is fun an endurance test

I should never have started
To chase a mistake
I should just give up but my pride is at stake

To learn something new
Is not much to ask
I thought it was fun now the whole day has passed

Tripping and falling
You don’t care how I sweat
You don’t know who your messing with I’ll get you yet

What am I saying
This has to stop
Why must you go can’t you just let it drop

You’re cute and you’re funny
And you don’t mean to stress
I just don’t understand dog why you can’t learn to fetch

In The Soft of The Night

No harsh darkness or shadows deep
Not quite awake and not quite asleep

Nights guiding lights unpolished by dark
Appear like warm embers awaiting a spark

A blanket of silence unfolds over all
Day Sounds are muffled and night sounds are dull

The breeze stops to rest on the tips of the leaves
Weighing each down in stillness to sleep

Time suspended in peace joining darkness and light
All life seems to whisper in the soft of the night

Side Tracked

The best laid plans – what can I say
Good intentions ruled the day
The plan was to start right away
But a new idea came my way

Then clichés came into play
Carpe Diem – Seize the Day
When opportunity came my way
How could I keep from being swayed

Even though the brass ring shone
My reach fell short and I came home
Not in defeat but with new skills honed
Plus inspiration for this poem

I love to write – with words to play
So even though I tend to stray
And chase some dreams along the way
With pen in hand I’ll end each day

 

A Moving Experience or How a Perfectly Rational Person Was Brought to Her Knees

After several years of invitations
Met by excuses and rationalizations
Circumstances forced reexamination
The fact was – something had to change

Alternatives were at a minimum
Renewals and deadlines held dominion
Now or never the prevailing opinion
But where in the world was Chanhassen?

Plans were made to minimize drama
Mom sent ahead to avoid the trauma
It will be OK, I can handle it Mama
You forgot your what?

The battle cry was organization
But time didn’t follow my estimations
Plans A through Z met annihilation
You want to deliver it when?

Downsizing was definitely on the agenda
State lines and weight meant a Goodwill bonanza
A pruning – no – pillaging extravaganza
What did it cost? – We won’t go there

And just when I thought I was over the worst
It was time to take on a new enemy – dirt
Unbelievable, undeniable, so embarrassing it hurt
I will never again pull the stove out

After all that there was still a long drive
A car full of must haves piled up high
Peace at the going but tears in my eyes
I always said that I loved adventure

My family and friends and the times that we shared
The moon through my window and the cat on the stair
The noise from the high school when the home team was there
You’ve got a lot to live up to Chanhassen

A Message to My Oh Lucy Followers

Thanks to all who have continued to check for Oh Lucy posts over the last two months.
As much as I love to write there are times when life turns upside down, temporarily, and the last two months were about as topsy turvy as it gets. 


With the Lord's help and the help of family and friends, who I will never be able to thank enough, my ship has been righted and there is smooth sailing ahead.


What else would I do after a life changing experience but share it with you.

August In The Midwest

The mornings are drenched in dew that clings to everything it touches, coating even the silken strands of a spider web. The heat comes early and tries to claim each droplet as the cool earth pulls it back into white waves of fog before letting go. As the sun climbs higher the fragrances of the wet grasses and musty soil give way to ripening fruit and the earthy smell of mushrooms and nuts.

The sun, intense and relentless, fills the days with heat and humidity, helping to slow the frantic pace of parades, picnics and family vacations. The sounds of fireworks and brass bands are replaced by a symphony of insects and birds that reaches a crescendo with the rhythm of the cicadas. The trees, so laden with leaves they seem weary from holding them up, are motionless in the still heavy air.

The evening ushers in breezes with a hint of coolness but so thick with moisture that they seem to caress the skin. The cool clamminess is a welcome exchange for the stinging heat of the days. The night song of crickets and frogs join together, rhythmically rising and falling like the chords of an organ, soothing and peaceful.

August is not the end of summer it is the peak of summer. It is God’s nature on joyous display and a time to rest, before the harvest, in the fullness of His creation.

I Know You Don't Hear a Word I Say

I know you don’t hear a word I say
But I only wish there was a way

To tell you how important it is
To heed the advice I’m about to give

On the highways and the byways
Danger lurks both night and day

Any driver can make an error
And there are some that just don’t care

You wouldn’t believe the things they’ll do
Instead of watching out for you

I wish I could communicate
And save us all from the heartache

Please look both ways and make sure it’s clear
You’ve got to be very careful - Deer

The Wreck

The no nonsense, 75 year old cook ran the kitchen with a cast iron fist. We were a bunch of unruly teenagers that saw our summer on the guest ranch as more of a working vacation then a job. She didn’t like it when we got rowdy and would only allow a few boredom breaking activities. One that she tolerated was singing. We sang show tunes, country western ballads, and our favorite – TV show theme songs to pass the time. She only drew the line when we started making up our own lyrics because well, let’s just say they may have been a bit off color at times.

She would not put up with any horseplay like food fights or chasing each other around. If we started any of that she would come out from behind the work table wielding a large spoon or rolling pin and threaten to let us have it. She couldn’t have weighed more than 97 lbs. soaking wet, but nobody dared find out if she really meant it.

One day we walked in to see her standing at the top of the basement stairs, shaking with laughter with tears rolling down her cheeks. We ask her what happened and she pointed down the stairs and choked out the words “We’ve had a wreck”. We all ran to look and there at the bottom sat someone, almost unrecognizable, covered in flour with clouds of white still billowing around him. It was our dishwasher who, when trying to carry a 50 lb. bag of flour downstairs, had missed the last step. We all laughed so hard we cried, not just because of the wreck but because of the sight of her complete loss of composure.

Eventually she pulled herself together and told us to get it cleaned up and get back to work. Still feeling lighthearted someone started to hum until everyone burst out singing “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas”. Out of the corner of my eye I caught her quickly turning to stir a pot so we couldn’t see her smile. Still fighting to maintain order she grabbed a large metal spoon but when she turned to threaten us, couldn’t keep from laughing and ended up using it to direct the choir instead. 

And Then I Thought

A calendar was given to me
With pics of the grandkids 1, 2, 3

I proudly hung it on the wall
To be seen by one and all

I thought I’d write my schedule there
It was meant to be useful that was clear

To maintain its future heirloom status
I changed my mind and left it as is

Then I thought how cute it would be
Seeing memories of when it was given to me

But no, the pics were from birth on up
So one year’s dates just wouldn’t match up

I wondered if I could tear the dates off
I’d just keep the pictures was my next thought

But I worried that the binding would come undone
And the pictures loose would soon be gone

And if they were scattered all over the place
Of the thoughtful gift there would be no trace

Then I thought I would never make a decision
If I calculated every what if with precision

Because at that rate it would stay on the wall
Until all of the grandkids had grown big and tall

They’d laugh when they saw it still hanging there
And suddenly I thought with clarity rare

It didn’t need additions, adjustments or change
Love frozen in time is forever the same

Decision

Choose Joy
Choose Life
Choose Love
Choose Right
Choose Peace
Choose Light
Choose Hope
To God’s Delight
When in repentance faith you choose
Life saving grace belongs to you
And in your heart you’ll know the truth
By His sacrifice he first chose you

Summer's Eve

Hello, I posted my latest poem "Summer's Eve" on  http://www.thebarndoor.net/ today.  It is a blog about Midwest living that I think you will enjoy.  New stories and poems for Oh Lucy coming soon.  Thanks for visiting!

No One to Blame but Myself

Where in the world did you come from
How did you get in here
I was rid of you, I thought, for sure
Then I turned around and there you were

I don’t know how you do it
I’ve put certain things in place
To guard against your onslaught
And keep you in your place

Sometimes I blame myself
For being open to yet more
Of things that make you who you are
And let you in the door

But I’m tired of the battle
And I’m tempted to give in 
After all no one is perfect
And having you is not a sin

But I’m warning you right now 
There are times I won’t allow
Your presence to disrupt my plans
Some people would not understand

Why I put up with you at all
Because they’ve managed not to fall
Into the habit that makes me mutter
Under my breath – I hate you Clutter

A Skip In Time

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, I couldn’t believe it, 6!  At first I thought it was magic.  Of course the first time I saw him do it I was probably 3 or 4.  Later I was convinced that it was a trick. It had to be, he never failed to do it better than anyone else.  I tried and was a complete flop.  I just couldn’t do it.  The worst part about failing at this particular endeavor was the sound.  People didn’t even have to see you fail. The Ker plunk that seemed to echo off the river banks told the tale.  But when Dad did it, it seemed like everything and everyone went silent.   We watched as it gently tapped the water as if to tease it with its gravity defying flight, until it chose its final diving place.  A simple thing like skipping a stone caused smiles and cheers all around.

As he did with every activity, Dad taught us the proper techniques and how and where to find the smoothest and flattest skipping stones.  I was great at finding the flat stones and realized my true calling was to provide for those who could use them to their fullest potential.  I knew even if I could manage a skip or two, I would never follow in his footsteps so I was content to hear his praise when I found a “good one”.  6 skips wasn’t even his record but the most amazing thing was his consistency.  He had the knack and never failed to impress.

I will never forget the day, long after my father’s passing when I stood alone on the shore of a high mountain lake.  It was a place where I would go when I was sad or lonely or angry and that day was no different.  I was heartbroken and I ran to my sanctuary to figure life out.   All I could think to do as I stood looking out over the beautiful shimmering water, was pick up the first rock I saw and fling it unceremoniously  into the water.  It was one of those overly wound up, and purposely wild armed throws that had no real intended destination.  Well, you guessed it, it slapped the water hard enough to sink but instead it bounced again and again and again.  I have no witnesses to this and I certainly couldn’t claim to know how I did it, but what I do know is that a simple thing like skipping a stone brought a smile to my face again.

Simply Love

Forget the flowers and Candy too
The Hallmark cards with words so true

A Mother yearns for a simple thing
No measure of the joy it brings

To know no matter how far away
Her love still reaches you every day

If the miles keep you apart
Or anger and hurt within your heart

Or guilt and shame keep you away
Remember this on Mother’s Day

There’s one thing you can know for sure
Her heart still beats in time with yours

And if she rests in God’s dear arms
Through your life and love that beat goes on

Just Try & Stop Me or We Both Knew This Was Coming

I’ve had it with you

I’m calling your bluff
 

I’m so overwhelmed

Enough is enough
 

I’ve followed your schedule

And met all your needs
 

Gone above and beyond

Just hoping to please

But there comes a time

When what’s left of me

Wants to reclaim some ground

And longs to be free

So I’m taking a stand

And pulling away

I’m not looking back

It’s all yours come what may

This siren’s call

 I cannot resist

It’s there for the taking

Right off my wish list

I know it won’t last

And I’ll need to come back

Not because of your charms

Just the plain simple fact

What you add to my life

I can’t do without
 

You’re one of the choices

That I sometimes doubt
 

But oh Work you must know

That you’re not all that fun

So I will and I must

Leave you for - vacation

Two In The Hand is Not All It's Cracked Up To Be

Working in the kitchen at the guest ranch I didn’t get too many opportunities to ride or learn to be the cowgirl I dreamed about.  I had already discovered that I was not a natural and was actually somewhat afraid of the powerful beasts now that I had met them up close and personal.  I was determined to overcome my fear so when they asked for volunteers in an emergency situation I stepped up.

The heavy rains the night before had threatened to flood the riding trails due to a beaver dam blocking the creek.  A few of the wranglers had gone out early to dynamite the dam when someone realized one of the pastures near there had not been cleared of horses.  The less experienced staff got a two minute class on how to lead a horse quickly and safely without getting stepped on.  The few wranglers there were catching the horses and putting bridles on them.  All we had to do was lead them back in.

I reached a wrangler and he handed me the lead.  After having only gone a short way another wrangler came up asked if I thought I could handle two at a time.  I didn’t have time to answer before he put the lead in my hand and ran off to get another horse.  Being sandwiched between them was pushing me toward panic so I kept my arms out as far as I could to avoid being crushed.

As I approached the barn I notice some wranglers who seemed to be arguing and pointing in my direction.  One of them held his hand up as though I should stop but before I could, the cowboy next to him slapped his hand down and gestured for me to keep coming.  After a got a little closer he ran out grabbed one of the horses and swung it out and away from the barn, while I led the other one in.

My pride at helping to rescue them from danger was soon replaced with horrified relief when they explained that the two horses I was leading were bitter rivals. The potential for a truly life threatening confrontation was pretty high but the wrangler that handed me the second horse was new and did not recognize the first one.  The argument I had seen was about if the odds of a fight would be better or worse if I stopped and waited for someone to come to my aid.  The final consensus was, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.  Cowboy wisdom or wishful thinking, I didn’t want to know.

Sign Swiped or Oh Lucy VI

 Although my husband usually handled the lawn mowing, when he didn’t have time I would pitch in.  One day as I was mowing the shallow ditch near the road, something suddenly flew up from under the mower. It smacked me in the shoulder hard enough to make me take a step back.

It was one of those moments when I was truly afraid to look.  When I did, all I saw was a perfectly round hole, about the size of the eraser on the top of pencil.  It wasn't bleeding much, but the size and shape gave me the creeps and I was almost afraid to feel the back of my shoulder for fear that I would find an exit wound.  I cleaned and bandaged it then finished the lawn.

My husband called at lunch time and I mentioned that I had a little accident.  Trying to be funny and minimize the issue I told him that I had been shot.  (In our neighborhood that was only slightly outside the realm of possibility).  I was laughing when I said it but even after I explained he didn’t join in.  I received a rather stern lecture about how serious it could be if a foreign object was lodged in the wound and was told to go to the acute care center to have it checked out.

It was embarrassing to explain how I happened to get a perfectly round hole in my shoulder and the doctor seemed more amused than concerned.  After he checked it out he left for a minute or two only to come back with two more doctors.  I was a little worried that he needed not only a second but a third opinion and asked if it was serious.  “No”, he said, “It has just been a long time since any of us have seen a case of shrapnel “, and 3 out of the four people in the room got a big laugh out of it.

I had completely forgotten about the mower and when I got home my husband had it upside down and was untangling something from the blades.  I had been “shot” by a piece of wire frame that once held a political sign.  The same grey as the dry ground, I hadn’t seen it in the grass.  I spent the rest of the day trying to decide which editor to send the story to at Reader’s Digest:  All in A Day’s Work or Laughter the Best Medicine.

Legacy

They say life flashes before your eyes
When you are about to die

I don’t know if it is a fact
But I wouldn’t be surprised by that

All memories and thoughts set free
From the mortal prison inside of me

Pain and emotions then released
That were held fast by shame and grief

And oh, the joy, the loves the friends
What comfort to see them again

When all has gone from mind and heart
And from this world my soul departs

Will what I saw be captured here
Within all those whose lives I shared

Imprisoned now in their memories
Every time they’d think of me

A weight they’d stumble underneath
Or a gift of love and joy to keep

Lord help me to right all the wrongs
And heal the hurts that I have caused

So when my life passes by my eyes
Your grace and peace I recognize

Then to all who hold my memory
Your love will be my legacy

It Could Have Been Friday Forever

Before our Saviors love displayed
Constant sacrifice was made

To cover sin and ease the shame
Because the law was disobeyed

Atoning blood was spilled each day
To keep the power of sin at bay

And then their came a precious King
To end the pain and suffering

They praised His name and led the way
With hope His power would win the day

They didn’t understand the plan
God our Father designed for man

They chose the innocent again
To be slain by their own hand

They know not what they do He said
As he surrendered all to death

Until His glory was displayed
The day the stone was rolled away

For sins, past present and to come
His sacrifice the victory won

Without His love that knows no measure
It could have been Friday - forever