Feeling a little SAD...

Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.
          ~Gustave Flaubert

           

The last two days have been dazzling-- cloudless sunny days that were so bright I wore my sunglasses any time I was out. Even inside the house the sun caught on the glass table in our breakfast room and reflected so intensely we had to reposition ourselves while eating lunch both days. We were able to get out and enjoy it -- our days included a drive to eastern Indiana and running errands close to home. While the air was still chilly, the car was always really warm when we'd get back in it after it sat in a parking lot in the sun. Late winter, early spring, whatever you call it... it was wonderful.

As with all things, the good weather ended today. The sky is gray, and it is raining. And will rain (or snow or sleet-- depending on where you live) for the next 3 or 4 days. Instead of being filled with light, the house is dark and gloomy feeling. Despite knowing it was coming, I am finding myself dreading having to go out in the rain, and just tired of all the dark skies winter has brought.

Then I remember last summer's draught, and how frightened I was as each day was hotter and drier than the next. How I had to get up early to take water out to my vegetable garden just to keep it going, and how the well began to give signs of trouble if we ran too much water at once.

Rain is, of course, a gift. It nourishes the Earth, and us too. Hopefully after a winter of precipitation, our well has been replenished. The ground is certainly wet-- our dog has had many baths lately after spending the morning romping in the back yard. The vegetable beds are soaked, as are the spring bulbs underground, which should be waking up now. And our trees-- they were so stressed last summer that all this rain should help them strengthen for the summer to come.

But that doesn't help the gloominess of rainy weather. All winter the cold is accompanied by gray skies, and for a lot of us, seasonal affective disorder can kick in. I love winter, I really do... but I must admit to having problems with my mood too after days and days without sun.

Recently I flew down to Florida to help my best friend in her early recovery after some major surgery. Florida is The Sunshine State, but while I was there it was cloudy. This was a bit of a disappointment, despite the much warmer temperatures. However, I have kept a memory of that trip that helps me cope on these dark, rainy days...

When a plane takes off during rainy weather, the initial time in the air can be pretty bumpy as the plane heads up through the rain clouds. There can be some bouncing around that is frightening. But at some point, the plane emerges through the clouds to the higher altitudes into a dazzlingly beautiful world that is carpeted in puffy white clouds and has the bluest bright sky you'll ever see. If the sun is shining into your window, it can almost blind you it is so bright.

It dawned on me this morning that high above me, at "cruising altitude", the sun is dazzlingly bright and beautiful. It's still there, warming the day. And while we all can't hop in a plane to go find the sun, for me knowing it is there despite the weather here, is a bit of a comfort.

If you are sick of gray skies but can't take a plane trip, just envision the sun, high above even the thickest clouds, shining and warming you. The rain will stop one of these days soon and that same sun will brighten your day just like it did mine yesterday!

Betty, Susan, Gloria and Me

Betty Friedan

The only way for a woman, as for a man, to find herself, to know herself as a person, is by creative work of her own. There is no other way.

          ~Betty Friedan 

This past weekend I was privileged to spend a little time with my mother, my sister and her daughter. Three generations of women, gathered to spend time together. Our bond of family and enduring love for one another runs very deep, and that was evident.

I particularly enjoyed chatting with my niece, a delightful young woman in her mid 20's. Married with a career, she is about to embark on a real adventure in a move to Australia to follow that career dream. The plan is for her to be there for a few years to gain experience with her company, then hopefully continue to advance. It will be a true adventure for her, and her husband as well.  I enjoyed hearing about her plans and found myself marveling at her confidence, her ambition,  and her assumption that she will achieve her dreams.

I was listening to public radio on the way to visit my mother yesterday and heard some women speaking of Betty Friedan.  For those readers who are not familiar with mid-20th century feminists, Betty Friedan is considered one of the founders of the modern feminist movement. She authored a book published in 1963 called The Feminine Mystique which was a calling out of the loathsome position many women found themselves in at that time-- educated, talented and experienced but out of work to stay home and be a wife and mother. Friedan felt that these women were forced to forget their dreams of professional achievement. At that time, there were very few women working professionally, and it was a societal norm that women who did have careers would give it up once married with a family.

I thought of my mother, who did indeed raise her family during the time Friedan wrote her book, and how different her life had been than my own or my sister's. And how different our lives have been to that of my niece and her generation of women. As I listened to the show, I realized that our lives changed as the Women's Movement changed. It has made a huge difference in how each of us has lived. I found myself looking up some of the earlier Women's movement figures and finding even more parallels to my own family.

Meet Lucretia Mott, born late 18th century. An abolitionist who realized that not only were slaves without rights, but so were women of all races. After the Civil War, she worked to change that. She was the mentor of...

Elizabeth Cady Stanto and Susan B. Anthony, both of whom were early proponents of voting rights for women. They worked tirelessly until the 19th Amendment to the Constitution was ratified, giving women the right to vote in 1920.

My own grandmothers were young women in 1920. I never chatted with either of them about voting, and find myself wishing I had done so. My maternal grandmother was a devoted homemaker. I have many fond memories of her working in the kitchen, doing household chores, and she is the one who taught me to knit. But before she married my grandfather she had worked as a secretary. I have heard stories that she wished sometimes that she could have been a nurse. My paternal grandmother was the oldest of 7 children of a poor farmer, so her life had been one of helping both parents keep the farm and family going. She did not find homemaking all that rewarding, and later in her life helped her husband open a business. She continued to run it for awhile after his death.  I never chatted with either of these women about what it was like for them as women... and I wonder now what impact the suffragette movement had on them.

My own mother was brought up in a world where higher education for her was considered a waste of time, where proper women did not have careers but stayed home to care for husband and children. That was her world... a kind of Leave it to Beaver world, and my sister and I reaped the benefits of her attention. It is the world that Betty Friedan wrote about in her infamous book. My own mother did not feel the boredom or frustration or sense of purposelessness about which Friedan wrote. She loved being a homemaker. Or did she? When I was in junior high, my mother went back to work. She worked as a secretary in a variety of jobs until my father retired. Her jobs never paid much, but her stories of these jobs show she had a lot of responsibility. When put in the perspective of feminist movement history, her reentry into the workforce coincided with Friedan's book in the mid 1960's.

Gloria Steinem in the late 1960's was President of the National Organization of Women and published MS Magazine

Carol Habisch burns her bra...

                               

In the late 60's, after Betty Friedan's book had taken the world by storm, there was a second wave of feminism. People like Gloria Steinem, Carol Habisch, Bella Abzug and others pushed for what became known as Women's Liberation. They wanted equal opportunity for all women, including an amendment to the US constitution forbidding any form of discrimination based on gender called The Equal Rights Amendment,. The rhetoric was extreme, but the ideas were equality and fairness.

I graduated from high school in 1970 and headed to the University of Michigan that fall, majoring in nursing. I had been raised in a loving home in conservative towns by conservative parents, protected from most of the unrest that was unfolding in America during that time. I was not prepared for the radical movements that were so highly visible on the Michigan campus. The Black Action Movement, the Anti Vietnam War movement, and the Women's Liberation movement were all vocal, visible, and in the face of students as we walked across campus. Listening to the rhetoric of these groups and discussing them in classes and with other students, I rapidly embraced a more liberal point of view. Especially towards women's issues. I left Michigan, eager to get started on a career and yet bound still to the idea of family and home. I married my college sweetheart, himself a liberal and in total agreement with my opinions on feminism. I worked... but once the babies arrived it seemed to change a bit. I had to balance work and career with family. He tried to do that too-- but eventually the solution was clear: I stayed home with the babies, working only on weekends. When they were school age, I went back to work full time and re-established a career. I do not regret a moment of those days. I am grateful to all the women who made it possible-- both the Women's Movement activists who made it possible for me to vote, to work outside the home, to participate in the world as anyone else, and my mother and grandmothers who showed me how to balance home and raising children and get some enjoyment from those endeavors. Both sides are important!!

Terry O'Neill, current President of NOW

So where are we now on achieving the goals of those Women's Rights activists? Terry O'Neill, the current president of NOW, has been working on a host of issues:  women's health care, equal pay for equal work (sound familiar?), and especially violence against women.  I need only look at my nieces, and my daughter-in-law to see how family life has changed for the generation after me... they are all working women, who entered the work force with no intent or desire to "stay home with the kids" and who are making it work for them. They have married supportive men, all of whom see them as equals. Watching my sons both care for their children has been an especially rewarding benefit!

The world for women has changed, and will continue to change. I am grateful that women now have so many more choices available to them. And I am grateful for the activists who made those choices possible. We mustn't take our "liberation" for granted. Raise a glass to Betty Friedan, and to all the others, including our own mothers and grandmothers!!

The Gift of Family

You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them.
           ~Desmond Tutu

Meet the Howes Girls!  Niece Kate on floor, my mother and sister seated and me behind..

 I have often written about my children or my grandchildren. They bring me much joy. But this past weekend I got to spend time with the nuclear family of my childhood. My sister and her daughter came for a visit from North Carolina. They stayed with my mother at her apartment and I spent time on both Saturday and Sunday with all of them.



My mother has been fighting breast cancer for over 7 years. It should have killed her way back when she was first diagnosed, but her gritty determination and an apparently strong constitution has kept her going. She has been called A Miracle by her oncologist. Her attitude about life and her example of how to face down this disease has been an inspiration to more than just my sister and I. Young niece Kate, who is a young married woman in her mid 20's, also looks to her for inspiration. As does my daughter-in-law, cousins galore, the people in her church, her former churches, the staff at the Cancer Center,  and many, many friends.  Now a spry 88 years old, she continues to knit prayer shawls for church, visit with friends nearby, attend church and Sunday school, and occasionally baby sit her great grand daughter.

We had a great weekend, spending time Saturday at my home having dinner that included my husband and my son and his daughter.  Then we spent Sunday afternoon at her apartment, dining in the retirement village dining room and mostly just chatting and laughing and enjoying each other's company.

I find myself thinking this morning about how fortunate I am that God put me in the family I have. I was raised by this loving woman (and her family-oriented, loving husband!), had a younger sister who has become one of my best friends, and we have stayed close despite long geographical distances between us. I enjoy spending time with Kate too. She will be moving sometime this spring for her job to Australia, so this trip was special for her to spend time with my mother before that departure. And as my grand daughter, now four, gets older, I hope she will retain a distinct memory of her great grandmother. She has been a loving presence in this little girl's life!

The challenge here is to follow her example and be the blessing to my own family that she has been to mine. I need to follow her example of courage in the face of disease,  her loving kindness to others and her willingness to help anyone who needs it. I want to become an example of how to live life well to my own children and grand children!

The gift of darkness

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.

          ~Mary Oliver 

A year ago at Christmas time Lanny and I received a poinsettia plant as a gift. It was from a florist and was lovely with large, brilliant red blooms. It graced our home and was a lovely addition to the other Christmas decorating we had done.

I fully expected this plant to wither and die over the course of the winter. I have never, in my entire life, been able to keep a poinsettia plant living more than a few months. Once I had one that bloomed till Easter, but even it eventually dried up, dropped all it's leaves and died.

This plant did not die. Lanny, who is really the better gardener of the two of us, kept giving it water. There it sat, in our breakfast room, all last winter, through the spring and summer. By the time Halloween arrived we were amazed that it was still living. In fact, it seemed to be growing some new, much smaller little green leaves.

I had tried in the past to keep poinsettias living, and had researched how to get them to rebloom. It turns out, they need periods of longer and longer darkness in order to bring the bright red blooms out. I remembered this just recently when, out of the blue, the plant started producing bright, though much smaller, red leaves and flowers.

Apparently, sitting in the breakfast room, where natural light dominates, and experiencing longer and longer periods of darkness, the plant was stimulated to once again bloom. And as you can see by the photos, it is lovely. It makes the room we dine in brighter and more cheerful.

I got to thinking today about a couple of friends I have spent time with recently. Both of these friends have begun to emerge from periods of darkness in their lives. I have been in awe of how they have not only survived the darkness, but bloomed in spite of it. I was reminded of some very dark times in my own life. And it occurred to me that the new blooming for each of us would have been impossible without the darkness.

Therein lies the lesson--we need to embrace dark times in our lives with full confidence that eventually there will be a reblooming that will be just lovely.

Back on The Wagon...

But for the cravings of the belly not a bird would have fallen into the snare; nay, nay, the fowler would not have spread his net. The belly is chains to the hands and fetters to the feet. He who is a slave to his belly seldom worships God.  
          ~ Moslih Eddin

Last year I wrote a few posts about our efforts here at home to get healthy. I had lost 65 pounds and was hoping to start an exercise regimen. I was at the point where my physician was hoping I could do away with the blood pressure, anti-reflux and joint pain meds.  My dear husband had also had a remarkable turnaround in his health, and was feeling more energy and less joint pain.  We had seemingly mastered the art of eating healthy, and maintaining our weight loss.

Then we went to Italy. Italian food, cooked by people who love to cook and eat, is truly an art form. We wanted to "experience" the culture, so we ate. We ate our way all over Italy. No restraint-- if we wanted it we ate it. We learned to love gelato-- that wondrous Italian version of ice cream that is creamier and more flavorful than anything you can get here in the US. We came home having gained weight despite all the time spent touring on our feet.

The pizza in Italy is... fabulous! I ate the entire thing...

This is an Italian calzone-- and yes, Lanny ate the whole thing too!

Then it was Thanksgiving, followed by Christmas. Both holidays have feasts and high calorie foods that are part of the tradition. I baked cookies. We ate them. The weather turned bad, so we couldn't exercise outside. The pounds kept creeping on.

Lanny's birthday was last week. He asked for a coconut cake. Not just any coconut cake, but one made with the recipe he had heard about on a radio program called "America's Test Kitchen". It was purported to be THE BEST coconut cake recipe ever. They had worked out a recipe that was moist, full of coconut flavor, and melted in your mouth. It sounded heavenly, so I went about finding the ingredients to make it. Finding coconut extract and cream of coconut proved to be a bit of a problem, but I managed to find them. We took a little trip out of town for his actual birthday, so the baking of this cake waited till we got back. Yesterday was the day...

It took me all day to make this cake. I had to haul out my big mixer. The butter had to soften. There was over a pound of butter in this cake and frosting! I had to buy cake flour-- a finer, much-sifted version of regular flour. I had to line the cake pans with parchment paper and grease and flour them. I had to toast coconut for the outside of the cake.

The end result was a magnificent cake-- tall and fluffy with beautifully whipped butter cream frosting and the toasted coconut. I placed it on an antique cake platter to add to the elegance. After a big meal of short ribs, we were full so we waited a bit before we tasted it.

With much fanfare, Lanny cut the cake. He served up giant pieces to us and dug in. It was rich without being too sweet. The cake was moist and flavorful. It was rich. Deliciously rich. Terribly rich. After a full meal, it was too rich. Both of us felt stuffed.

This morning, both of us fessed up that we had not slept well. We had both suffered from reflux-- to the point where I had to sleep sitting up. And now I get it... we are right back into the unhealthy eating habits we had kicked a year ago-- what took us a year or more to accomplish we were undoing in just a few months.

They say confession is good for one's soul. I am confessing to you, dear reader, that I have fallen off the overeating wagon and am having a terrible time getting back on it. I want to be slim, I want most of all to be healthy. 

So, today begins a renewed effort at getting back on the healthy eating wagon. I hate diets, and no matter what you call this, it is a diet. As the primary cook in our family I am also responsible for feeding my husband a healthy diet. We will both be grouchy over this. But we both know it needs to happen. It starts today-- not tomorrow or Monday or whatever.

Our first hurdle will be what to do with what's left of that coconut cake!

If we remain humble and hungry, we can win.
          ~Dave Allison