Reflections From a Quiet Hospital Room

What do we say when our plans, our expectations are disproved in one great and momentary upheaval? What happens when the trial impatiently endured gives way to even greater trouble than before? What do you do when the moment you had been waiting months for never comes?

Recent events are causing me to realize afresh that my hope is so often misplaced. Hope is not found in a job offer, a date, a new car, the approval of others, or most recently, the removal of a child's loathsome but necessary medical contraption. I act as though life will be better because of these things, that improvement will come through the acquisition of worldly possessions or the end of a trying time.

Yet my season of singleness endures, I turn down perfectly good jobs, and the long-anticipated removal of a halo brought on much more medical trauma than anyone imagined. It shouldn't amaze me how evident the Lord's goodness is during these times, but it does. Seeing faith, courage, and joy endure, seeing God's provision in big and little things, seeing the smile of one of the most amazing toddlers I have ever known - all of those things point me back to the one in whom I should put my hope.

So do not cling to a paycheck, a boyfriend, an abundance of nice things, or good health. Put your hope in the one who gives us all of those things and sustains us every day, good or bad.

    But I will hope continually
        and will praise you yet more and more.
    My mouth will tell of your righteous acts,
        of your deeds of salvation all the day,
        for their number is past my knowledge.
    With the mighty deeds of the Lord GOD I will come;
        I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone.
(Psalm 71:14-16 ESV)

An Unpacking of the Author's Thoughts on a Saturday Evening.

Making food is very satisfying, especially when the food turns out well. Weekends usually bring on the urge to cook, and today was no different. Thanks to Pinterest and StumbleUpon, my kitchen is a happy place. Did you know that with just a little EVOO, salt, & pepper, you can make cauliflower into a delicious french fry imposter? There is a pan of Red Velvet Cheesecake brownies in the oven, half-finished Oreo Bon-Bons in the freezer, and the ingredients for a promising Chicken Enchilada Bake are just biding their time.
Yes, I love making food.

As of yesterday, I have completed 4 weeks of being a "Super Nanny." Who chose that nickname, you ask? I did. Sue me. Honestly, though, I've learned a lot. Nannying one special needs child requires an extra commitment to learning about those needs and all of the different therapies. Nannying two special needs children? Double the therapy and individualization, plus a whole new range of medical issues to learn about, and learning how to balance two needy toddlers (figuratively AND literally). It took awhile (being sick as a dog for one week didn't help at all), but it feels like all of the pieces are falling into place. Every day is challenging because every day is different, but there is finally a solid foundation of knowledge and familiarity to build each day off of. Did I mention that there's going to be a new baby next month? I love my job.

For the past few weeks, I've been reflecting on my life now and how much it is changed in the last year. If you've known me longer than a year, you know I can be very quiet and I spend a lot of time at home. Sometimes that stems from simple introversion and the need to re-energize by being alone. Other times, especially during my teenage years, it was due to fear. Fear that I would be socially rejected, that I would not know how to handle a new situation, that I would fail as I had before. Somewhere in the last 12 or so months, things have started changing. That fear is still present in my life, but there is less room for it. I'm not quite sure how, but my life has filled up! I'm amazed at all that is a part of my life now - besides working 2 jobs, and being part of 2 church ministries, I'm out at least 2 or 3 nights each week spending time with friends. That is HUGE for me. I don't even know how it happened, but I'm so grateful for all God has given me and is helping me to balance.

To end on a very serious note...normally, I'm not a fan of Rihanna - her lyrics make me run for more substantial artists. However, I am guilty of really liking one of her songs:



When this song comes on the radio, I turn the volume and the bass up way too loud and rock out as much as a self-conscious driver can. Which isn't very much. So, if you hear the bass thumping as you drive by a soccer mom minivan, pay no attention to the woman in the driver's seat.

Bucket Lists

I find myself making two bucket lists: a traditional outline of things I hope to do in the future and then a collection of things I wish I'd thought to add before they happened. I know you are waiting with bated breath, so without further ado...

Heather's Run-of-the-Mill Bucket List

Marry my currently unidentified husband

Be a mother

Pay off all of my debts

Memorize every Fighter Verse

Share the Gospel with a stranger

Travel to every continent, perhaps excluding Antarctica

Visit all of Europe (every country looks so beautiful, I can't choose just one!)

Go to a Viking's game

Go to a Twin's game

Take a vacation far away from home

Visit the top of the "Witch's Hat" water tower

Take dancing lessons

Attend a concert at First Ave

Learn how to swim

Learn to ski and snowboard

Go skydiving or bungee jumping

Grow a flower and vegetable garden

Join (another) choir

Learn how to drive a stick shift car

Drive 100 mph

Take (more) piano lessons

Learn to play the guitar

Make a complete queen-size quilt

Learn how to rock-climb

Learn to use a camera well

Go on a road trip

Heather's "Hindsight is 20/20" Bucket List

Meet Josh Groban

Sit atop an elephant

Drive a van on the sidewalk

Graduate college

Eat raw squid

Drive a jet ski

Get stuck in an elevator

Sit in every seat in an empty movie theater auditorium

Put together a bunk bed by myself

Conquer my fear of body slides (thanks guys!)

I keep starting blog posts and abandoning them when I inevitably become dissatisfied with the results. There are so many different thoughts swirling in my head after these past few weeks - they all want to get out, but the perfectionist writer in me can't seem to figure out how. Though it is likely more beneficial to me than anyone else, this post is happening now.

Earlier this week, I realized that changes of all shapes and sizes are barreling towards me. Just when I was starting to get comfortable, it feels as though God took my routine, my comfortable box, and gave it a hearty shake. 

The changes all started Christmas Day. There was no way to avoid the realization that changes were coming when I woke up to the news that my grandma died just hours before we were going to go visit her.

Change confronted me when I was surrounded by family, saying a tearful goodbye to the woman we all loved so dearly. That entire week went by in a strange blur, trying to figure out how to grieve while I went on with my daily life.

Change are coming on Tuesday, when my workload, responsibility, and nannying joys double. I'm cautiously excited to be taking on a second special needs child, trying to silence the fear that I will be inadequate for this opportunity.

I'm turning 25 in less than two weeks and it feels like a big deal. It seems an unavoidable truth: the fact that I am in no way a child, adolescent, or dependent anymore. I am an adult, an independent woman. My choices are my own, as are my mistakes, my time, my friends. It's liberating and terrifying.

These next few months bring the anticipation of more change as I take a leap back into the world of job searching. The idea of it is a little overwhelming right now. It's far too easy to let fear and anxiety take over right now as I consider all of the time and effort to be put into resumes, applications, and interviews.

In all of these changes, fear and anxiety are ready and waiting to break into my mind and soul. I am striving to remember God's faithfulness in all of this: his mercy in Grandma's death; the blessing of a another source of income; his grace throughout my 24 years of life so far; the knowledge that, in spite of all life's changes, my Lord is constant and unchanging.

But this I call to mind,
   and therefore I have hope:

 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
   his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
   “therefore I will hope in him.” 

 (Lamentations 3:21-24)

He has given and taken away, and He is good.

Reflections on an Evening Spent With a Red Kettle and a Bell

If you're looking for a way to give a little of your time during the Christmas season, please allow me to make a recommendation. Last night, I spent a wonderful 90 minutes (after determining which door was actually facing west!) behind a red kettle, hymnal or bell in hand, with friends on either side.

The chilly breeze out of the north made for cold fingers and toes, but what does that matter when you're singing with friends? When 1 person walks by with a smile on their face? When you finally find the sweet alto notes of Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming? When two strangers join the singing in perfect harmony?

Give me a brisk Minnesota evening, surrounded by friends singing praise, and I will be a happy woman.

Joy to the world, indeed.


Want to do something? Go ring a bell yourself (http://www.registertoring.com/TwinCities/Search.aspx) or donate online (http://www.onlineredkettle.org/heidehosen).

Bottle It Up

While I was steering my red shopping cart through Target's grocery aisles last week, I couldn't help noticing the distress of another customer. It wasn't the medical attention sort of distress; rather, it involved some foot-stomping, loud grumbling, and a curse or two under her breath. As I steered my cart around her, I saw she was attempting to remove the battery from her phone. "Well if it's just her battery, I might be able to help," I thought. After inquiring, I found out that her phone, containing her entire grocery list, had stopped working. My rudimentary troubleshooting was not helpful, so I offered a few positive words and continued my shopping.
As I reflected on this encounter later, I realized how different this woman and I are. When she encountered trouble she dealt with it externally, in a way that was obvious to observers. When trouble comes my way, I take everything in and keep it inside, in a place where I can deal with it without being observed. For reasons I don't quite understand, I am more comfortable dealing with my emotions in private. If they are out in the open for all to see, then I feel vulnerable.
In processing the emotional side of recent events, I buried many of my feelings as deep down as possible. It's much easier to put on a face that says "I'll be fine," saving the real emotions for later. Sometimes, the emotions that I have worked so hard to keep under my control burst forth. The revelation that came with one unintended moment of honesty broke the hastily constructed dam, letting the full weight of those emotions settle in on me.
While searching for relief in the midst of the flood of emotion, I remembered a verse of one of my favorite hymns:

Help me then in every tribulation
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation
Offered me within Thy holy Word.
Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
E’er to take, as from a father’s hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
Till I reach the promised land.

Nesting

My name is Heather, and I am a sporadic nester.

This is closely linked to my penchant for never unpacking everything. These unfortunate habits are likely rooted in my childhood and the multiple addresses I associate with "home."

When my roommates and I moved a few months ago, it took me a minimum of one week to put any nails in the wall. Nails bring with them a sense of permanence - once I hang that picture up, it's not coming down until I pack it up.

It's been 2 months since I put two nails in the wall. Tonight I added 3 more.

I'm not sure why it feels so significant. I do know that tonight, my house just became a little more of a home.

Baby steps, Heather. Baby steps.

The Consequences of the Profession Which I Chose

The following conversation took place between myself and the grandma of the boy I nanny:

G: "Were there a lot of women at the conference?"
H: "Well, I thought there were a lot of women there, but then I saw how many women were at the conference next door. That was A LOT of women."
G: "How are you ever supposed to meet men?"

Is it just me, or are all grandmas the same?

Contradictions

Sometimes, I feel like a bundle of contradictions.

From far away, my hair looks light brown. Look close enough and you will see dark brown, light brown, blonde, and red hairs...and even a gray or two. I blame it on the stress.

I often have ideas of grand adventures around Minnesota and the world, but any hankering for spontaneity is almost always overtaken by routine.

I also have a desire to sunbathe my skin out of the "pasty white European" stage. This desire is countered by my epidermis' dislike for ultraviolet rays. Just an hour in partly cloudy conditions gets me hives, sun poisoning, or both.

The first and third contradictions are largely on the surface and ultimately not that important in the long run. However, the second coincides with one of the biggest contradictions I have been mulling over for the past months:

I am an introvert who wants to be an extrovert.

Our society values extroversion, the ability to go out conquer the world head-on all while maintaining handfuls of professional and personal relationships. I want to fit into this society, to be able to function as boisterous, fearless go-getter. As I mature and gain further understanding into how I function, how God designed me, I am more aware of the challenge in being true to myself and functioning successfully in America. How do I reconcile my desire for a mostly quiet, personal, introspective existence with the desire to be more?

In the past few days I have found a multiple blog posts and articles on this topic. While they don't provide answers, they provide a certain affirmation and a much clearer direction for my inner turmoil. As I read some of these I wanted to get up an do a happy dance - there are other people out there who are like me, who understand what it is like and are reaching out with the knowledge they have!

10 Myths About Introverts - the blog post that started this phenomenon for me. I followed the link in Adam Young's tweet and haven't looked back since.

Is Shyness an Evolutionary Tactic - an article written by Susan Cain (the author of blog below) for the New York Times. It challenges our society's rejection of introversion as normal, especially in the medical, education and business realms, while highlighting influential historical figures who were introverts.

QUIET: The Power of Introverts - a blog that I have been devouring ever since I discovered it yesterday. Every post gives me so much to think about and strives to make introversion just as valuable as extroversion.

I still face the challenge every day of deciding when and where I get to be my introverted self and when it is time to push myself beyond any self-imposed boundaries. I don't want my penchant for being quiet and shy to be an excuse for spending too much time at home as it was for so many years. There are adventures to be had, people to meet, new things to discover - but there will always be time for quiet as well.

My Heart Was Home Again

The concept of "home" has come up frequently in discussions with family, friends, and this box I type my thoughts into. I've mentioned before that home, for me, is the two houses my grandparents have inhabited for my entire life. Realizing what home is to me is one thing, but now I am trying to wrap my head around the fact that, this weekend, I am losing one of those homes. People get older, health slowly declines, plans are made - before you know it, one of the most stable parts of your childhood is crumbling before your eyes.

The house on Johnson Lane was not just a house. It was the house where Grandma and Grandpa lived, where there was always an open bed, homemade goodies in the freezer, where shelves and walls were lined with cherished keepsakes and tokens of our heritage. It was the house where Larsons, Ericksons, and Becks gathered for shared meals, favorite songs, Ole & Lena jokes, silly string wars. It was the house where we worked together to make lefse, donuts, and pies. It was the house filled with outdated wallpaper, carpet, and light fixtures that I will always remember.

Those 4 walls contain more than just a house. It was a home - not just to me, but to an entire family. And while I may get teary at the thought of saying goodbye to that home forever, I know that my treasure is not here on earth, "where moth and rust destroy" (Matthew 6), but in heaven. I will keep clinging to that truth while I allow myself to mourn this loss. I think that letting this material thing go will be one important step in the process of eventually saying goodbye to one of the people who made that home so significant.

Snuggles, Anticipation, and Choices

After one week away from work, I sat on the couch this afternoon savoring my snuggle time with the sweet, sleeping baby boy in my arms. As I thought about the next few days of my life, I realized that I am stumbling headfirst into an incredibly agonizing unknown. I like knowing what is going to happen. I like having all of the answers. That is when I feel safe.

In the past few weeks and months I have learned (and re-learned) a few lessons:

• My feelings are a legitimate part of my existence that need to be acknowledged, not bottled up. Not so easy when the first 20 or so years of your life were spent mastering the art of buried feelings.
• I am not self-sufficient. The introvert in me wishes I could travel the rough patches of life on my own without having to rely on anyone else. If I don't have to rely on anyone else, then I can't be disappointed, right? Then the voice of Truth cuts through my pride, usually via the Psalms, and reminds me that I need hope, strength, counsel, love that does not come from myself but from God and the friends he has blessed me with.
  

I've been anticipating the arrival of February with trepidation, knowing that it would not be an easy month. I took most of last week off to stay with my mom while she had surgery. The recovery has been less than ideal, to say the least. She is back in the hospital with the hope that the doctor can determine why she is not recovering as expected.

Tomorrow, I will be spending the day at the hospital with my parents while we await answers and relief for my mom. Wednesday, I will be helpless to do anything but pray while baby M has surgery to repair the hole in his heart. I cannot stop, fix, or prevent any of the hardships that have or will come. I cannot promise myself happy endings without some struggles along the way.

I can choose to hope that God will be with those I love as well as myself. I can choose to remember that "the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end" (Lamentations 3:22).

A Synopsis of My Life Consisting of Varied and Succinct Thoughts

You know you live in Minnesota when you walk a mile over snow-packed sidewalks on a brisk winter evening...and LIKE IT.


Status symbols have a frustratingly overwhelming influence on Americans, myself included. Sometimes it seems like the only way to really break free would be to move far, far away. Who's with me?


Our lives have been built around the ability to drive anywhere in our own vehicles. Get a nice house in the suburbs, take the freeways to work, go to a church half an hour away, buy a month's worth of groceries at once...you get my point. This makes my desire to become a bicycle commuter slightly more challenging.


During my annual crocheting binge, I discovered that I have been crocheting the wrong way. Probably explains why my previous projects have been so difficult.


Someday, I want to dive off a cliff into a beautiful blue ocean. One thing stands in my way: I am almost 24 years old and I don't know how to swim.


My taxes are more complicated than ever before this year, but I think I'm going to do them myself just to show the people that charge too much money to do it for you.


Saturday Night Live makes me laugh. Laughter is good.


Baby M got an awesome new toy...if you press all 6 of the instrument buttons then it plays each instruments' part of a classical song! Unfortunately, I am more entertained by this than the baby.


An hour of my morning was spent studying for book club at Panera with a cup of coffee. It was like being in college again - I loved studying in coffee shops!


For some reason, Roseville never gave Victoria Street sidewalks. Combine a lack of sidewalks with poorly plowed snow and fast cars and you get my slightly unnerving one block walk from the bus stop to work. Drivers of Roseville, thank you for not running me over...yet.

There's No Place Like Home

In the midst of my Sunday evening cleaning and organizing, the song issuing from my laptop speakers brought on an interlude of introspection.

I drove 300 miles from the place I call home

Upon hearing those lyrics I began thinking. Thinking about how my past roommates have always used "home" to refer to wherever their parents are. Thinking about how "home" was wherever I happened to be living. Thinking about what really felt like home.

Some families put their roots down in one place, one town, one house, and stay there for years. Other families move from place to place for whatever reason. My family fell into the second category. We moved a lot. I could count on the fact that eventually we would be packing everything up and moving to some other place.

That's what each new dwelling became: some other place. Each time we moved I felt less connected with our "home." Even today, I never finish unpacking when I move. There are always boxes that sit in a closet waiting for the next time we load up the moving truck. I want to decorate, find a place for everything, make the space my own, but there is always a little voice that says, "What's the point? You'll just have put it back in a box when your lease is up."

My sisters and I have often talked about the two places that we identify as home, the two places that have never changed: our grandparents' homes. Little things change as they do in every house, but the "Grandpa and Grandma's house" that I have known since I could first remember will always be there. Every time I visit my grandparents, I know that the beds will be in the same place, the cereal will be in the same cupboard, the same grandfather clock will chime, the same radio station will turn on at 5 AM, the same family heirlooms will be prominently displayed, the same sliced cheese will be in it's special container, the same playhouse will be visible in the backyard, the same nightlight will be in the bathroom, the same pictures will be on the wall.

That is when I am home.

"Do You Hear That? It's the Winds of Change."

It has been almost two months since I left my first job behind. These past weeks have been spectacular: getting to know baby M; watching him grow both physically and cognitively; and getting to know my employers. My delight in little babies has only grown as I have become more amazed at God's handiwork in this tiny little human!

When I accepted my new job, I knew that it would come with a pay cut. I did a little math to make sure that I would still be able to pay all of my bills and told myself that less money would mean more practice in responsible spending.

Fast forward two months and you will find a young woman, previously very financially immature, who has worked and reworked her budget many times. The jump from mindless, careless and selfish spending to keeping track of every single dollar has been a challenge. Every two weeks I sit down and figure out exactly how much will stay in my checking account to pay bills electronically, while the rest of my budget requires a cash-only approach. It's too easy to just hand over a piece of plastic without paying attention to where that invisible money should really be going.

Figuring out my budget has not always been very uplifting, as my bad decisions are coming back to haunt me with sky-high interest rates. Every once in awhile I tell myself that if I had stayed at my old job, I would have plenty of money to pay down my debts and save for the future. But if I had stayed where I was, I would still be spending the same irresponsible way. I know that I am better off financially where I am now, where I have no choice but to track every dollar.

So, I see two blessings within my new job; not only do I get to do what I have wanted to do for years, but I am learning how to be responsible with what God gives me.

And he said to them, "Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions."

Luke 12:15

The Past and The Present

This afternoon, I saw a picture of one of my college professors. Almost immediately, I was struck with the same fear and feelings of inadequacy that usually taunted me in her presence.

Sometimes I think about what I've accomplished during college and in the 9 months since graduating, and for a few moments I feel proud of myself. Then I think about what it would be like to face that professor now, bearing all of my post-graduate accomplishments for her to see, and suddenly my pride shrivels up to almost nothing.

Funny how one person can have such a lasting influence.

Music and Memories

Sometimes, I am amazed at how a specific song can bring up memories, causing me to relive an entirely different time of my life. I heard Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls this afternoon and almost instantly remembered a day in first grade. We were on a bus leaving a field trip to some sort of nature center, and the "cool" girls were singing Waterfalls while I lamented not knowing all of the lyrics so that I could sing along.

After that flashback, I started thinking about other songs with the same time-traveling effect...

When I hear Breakfast at Tiffany's, I remember sitting in the Champlin Public Library watching VH1 with Kayla. We were so surprised that Deep Blue Something looked like a bunch of country singers!

One Sweet Day brings me back to third grade: Megan, Jennifer and I loved spending our recess sitting on the swings and singing Mariah Carey songs.

After The Lion King came out in theaters, WLite started playing Elton John's Can You Feel the Love Tonight. I remember well the day we sat in the car behind the St. Louis Park Burger King eating our just-purchased lunches. My mom didn't want her onions, so she threw them out the window for the blackbirds nearby.

College changed the way I experience Silent Night. We sang that song dozens of times for Christmas at Northwestern, and I will never forget standing in the dark, candlelit auditorium, waiting for the sound of the bell. Or hoping that I didn't trip down the steps.

Every time I listen to Fireflies, I travel to a time when snow was falling and I was closing in on the end of my first grade student teaching. I remember what it was like to drive the Ford Explorer and hope that I survive another day or feel grateful for making it through another day.

A few weeks ago, I added a new song to my list: The Book of Love. My sister and her fiance used this song for their wedding slideshow. I couldn't help buying the song for myself, and now when I listen to it I relive the moments when we hid in the back of sanctuary, smiling and anticipating.

Gratitude

This morning, I am grateful that God has given me a reason to wake up at 5:30, walk out the door on time, and see the sunrise as I walked down the quiet street to my bus stop.

I am grateful that the Twin Cities has a transit system that can get me almost anywhere I need to go...at least on the weekdays!

I am grateful for the ability to see all of the beautiful flowers being set out at the Farmer's Market downtown while sipping my delicious iced white mocha.

I am so grateful that every day is a new day, filled with new possibilities, a fresh batch of patience, and God's new mercies.

I am grateful that God has given me a new opportunity and that I can trust Him with the outcome, whatever it may be. Come mid-September, Lord willing, I will be doing something different but exciting with my days!

I am grateful that God has brought my sister and her fiance together, giving us an opportunity to gather and celebrate. August 14th is going to be the best day of the summer!

I am grateful for the ability to sing, no matter how poorly, and being able to enjoy it!

I am grateful for the ability to run and breathe, even if those two things in conjunction with each other are not very pleasant.

I am grateful for the faith God has given me and the hope He has provided for the future.

Having Faith

Right now, I'm not sure whether I will have the same job in 6 months.

Right now, I don't know if I will ever feel competent for my job.

Right now, I don't know if I will be able to afford a car anytime soon.

Right now, I don't know if or how God will fulfill the desires He has given me.

But right now, I know that I have found happiness where I am. Today, I know that God has extended grace and forgiveness to me through Jesus Christ. I know that I have been blessed with a job and the ability to fulfill my duties. I know that there are 7 sweet (and sometimes naughty) toddlers who rush me when I walk in the door after my lunch break. I know that I am looking forward to the next four weeks filled with opportunities to spend time with family and friends.

Right now, by God's grace, I am alright. That's enough.

Especially for my Friend Who is a Writer

My poetry-loving friend requested a viewing of the poems I so lovingly penned about my car. The first poem was written for a contest last fall, while the second was written just after I sold "Miss Beatrice" to the junkyard. Though I may sound rather bitter in these poems, please know I am considerably less angered now. I even think back on my short time with Miss Beatrice with some nostalgia. Without further ado...

Ode to Miss Beatrice (Part 1)

Our first day together, three times in the snow

"Miss Beatrice" got stuck and she wouldn’t go!

I live in Minnesota, snow is a given!

My car needs to keep up with where I’m livin’.

For $500, I bought this piece of junk

And soon discovered she’s in a permanent funk!

More than the worth of my crappy car

Is what I’ve spent to save my life, so far.

Oil disappeared, the steering wheel would shake!

Plus a dangerous leak of fluid from the brake.

A noisy exhaust leak caused glares and pain;

And Carbon monoxide threatened my brain!

I’ve fixed the most dangerous parts of my car,

But Miss Beatrice keeps raising the bar.

Three windows, two mirrors, one lock, the horn

These things don’t work – how forlorn!

Rusty drums, no Oxygen sensor

She’s an oil burner with bad fuel pressure.

Bad struts, and burning smells won’t let me be

Plus, it devoured my choir CD.

Toxic fumes and blue clouds waft from my car

Almost 200,000 miles…I'm afraid to travel far!

The windshield wipers are neon yellow

Plus the dents and rust – it makes me bellow!

Miss Beatrice is only 15 years old,

But the leaky trunk is growing some mold!

America's worst car is surely my own,

and each day I'm never sure I'll actually make it home.

I don’t care what I get in return,

I just laugh at the thought of seeing her burn!

When you're driving down the highway, and wonder, "What's that smell?"

Look over - it's me! In the car from....you know where.

Ode to Miss Beatrice (Part 2)

Miss Beatrice, my time with you is finally done.

Because of you, my dignity was overrun.

For ten long months you sought my demise;

I know now that purchasing you was unwise.

The oil-burning engine left a putrid aroma

The carbon monoxide could have put me in a coma!

But all of your attacks I have survived

Though, of oxygen, my brain was deprived.

Pushing, sliding, cracking, jumping

Why were you intent on abusing?

Since March, you’ve run up a bill quite nice,

More than 35 times the trade-in price!

Now I’ve sold you to the junkyard

Still, my budget and existence are truly scarred.

Though your existence I surely abhor

You won all the battles, but I won the war.

Five Short Reflections on a Holiday Weekend

1. Driving a vehicle that has a defective speedometer really helps develop ones inner sense of speed. My inner speedometer still needs work, though. Driving back to the cities today took half an hour less than usual...with two pit stops. Whoops!
2. I love my grandparents, especially in their quirky and crazy moments. Example: I went out to the garage to get a stepladder and heard my Grandpa scanning the radio stations. What did he stop on? Britney Spears. Yes, I love my grandparents.
3. When making lefse on Saturday, I thought I was being really responsible and healthy when I washed my hands before we started. After Grandma said she tasted pomegranate in a fully cooked piece of lefse, I decided my handwashing technique needed a little work.
4. On my drive back to the farm after making lefse, I was admiring the picturesque country-ness of the roads. When I spotted 8 or so birds on the road, I figured they'd get out of the way. As I got closer, I realized that they were little ducklings who were running around but NOT running off the road. In these situations, my mind flashes back to a time when I was not yet a licensed driver. My mom told me in no uncertain terms that you NEVER swerve around animals on a country road, no matter how small or how cute. So when I saw the little ducklings in my path, I kept driving in a straight line, screaming in dismay. I looked in the rearview mirror with trepidation, and saw at least one lifeless duckling on the road behind me. I wasn't so happy about the country roads after that.
5. On the drive back today, an unfamiliar radio station started playing "Jump Jive an' Wail." For those few minutes, I was sad that I couldn't swing dance in the van.