Showing posts with label Art of Conversation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art of Conversation. Show all posts

Monday, January 30, 2017

Do I Talk Funny?

Recently I discovered Applachian Magazine online and have been thoroughly enjoying the stories they post.  It's just little snippets of life here in the mountain region, many from a historical perspective and many with a wry sense of humor, that surprise me often with the commonality to my young life.  I grew up in rural Idaho but I identify pretty strongly with many of the customs and sayings they claim as uniquely Appalachian.

Photo from Appalachian Magazine's article "The Story
Behind More _____ Than Carter's Got Liver Pills" dated
January 24, 2015 (link imbedded in post).
This morning's reading was about the origin of Carter's Liver Pills.  Kind of interesting in and of itself, but what caught my attention and amused me were the golden little idioms of speech that peppered the story.  Considering myself a "word person," etymology is always one of my interests. And when I find a new saying, or even just a really fun to say word, I start thinking about how to work it into a casual conversation if for nothing more than shock value.

I like these colloquialisms!  You may have heard some of them, or you might find something new listed here, but hopefully you'll appreciate the colorful way with words and let them set your imagination, and conversations, afire.

When something is desirable:
On that like a fat lady on a donut...
...like white on rice!

When someone is ugly:
...face could haint (or haunt) a house.

When someone is shaking (from cold, afraid, laughing):
Shaking like a cat crapping a peach seed.
Jiggling like a bowl of jello.

Speaking of someone being clever or if it's really icy outside:
...slicker than snot on a door knob.

When someone doesn't shoot well or doesn't understand something obvious:
...couldn't hit the broad side of a barn.

When one holds a tool differently than most of the population:
Just like a pig with a pitchfork.  (This was used about how I hold my crochet hook once...)

When there's a large quantity:
More ____ than Carter's got liver pills.

When one is angry:
Madder than a wet hen.
...could thread a sewing machine – and it runnin'!
...got his knickers in a knot!
...pitched a hissy fit!
Well... that just dills my pickle!

When you have done a lot or have a lot to do:
Busier than a one legged man in a butt-kicking contest.
Running like a chicken with it's head cut off!

When you are surprised:
...coulda knocked me over with a feather.
Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!

Describing finances:
I'm so poor I can barely afford to pay attention!
Don't even got a pot to piss in (or a window to throw it out)!
Too poor to paint, too proud to whitewash.

Describing someone who is vain or conceited:
...thinks his #^%@ don't stink.
She thinks she is all that, and a bag of chips.

When something isn't happening fast enough:
...slower than cold tar at Christmas-time!

When you are thirsty:
...wet your whistle.

Describing being thrifty or cheap:
Pinch that penny so tight you could pick the boogers from Abe Lincoln's nose...
Squeeze a quarter so tight the eagle screams...
...so tight he could back up to a wall and suck a brick out!

When something unfortunate happens:
No use crying over spilled milk!

When you are feeling especially good/something very fortunate happens:
...finer than frog hair and twice as nasty.
...finer than a frog hair split four ways.
...grinnin' like a possum eatin' a sweet tater.
Happy as a hog in slop!

When something is fun or funny, or used sarcastically when it's not:
More laughs/fun than a barrel full of monkeys.

Describing one with a distinct lack of musical ability:
...can't carry a tune in a tub.  (My friend, Heidi, once went on to describe me as being able to sing two parts: solo and tenor.  "So lo" no one can hear it and "ten or" fifteen miles off key.  So much for thinking I should ever try to sing outside the shower, huh?)

When things are going right/you finally understand:
Now we're cookin' with peanut oil!

When someone pretends to be something they are not/has bad character:
He's all hat and no cattle.
He's lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut.

To describe a nasty wound/bad period/miscarriage:
...bleeding like a stuck pig.

When a woman becomes unexpectedly or unintentionally pregnant:
____ got bit by the trouser worm.
...gone and got herself knocked up.
(and my Grandma's shout out to an expectant jaywalker: "hey lady, you know you can get knocked down, too!")

Describing the weather:
It's so hot I just saw two trees fightin' over a dog!
It's dryer than a popcorn fart...
Raining cats and dogs!

Referring to a child/childhood/events that happened before a child was born:
...knee-high to a grasshopper.
You weren't even a twinkle in your daddy's eye yet...

Describing nervousness:
...like a cat on a hot tin roof.
_____ needs to go pop a valium!

Describing being confused:
Doesn't know his [backside] from a hole in the ground...
Don't even know which way is up!
It's like reaching around your [backside] to scratch your elbow.

Describing a liar:
Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining.
That dog won't hunt!
You'd call an alligator a lizard.
...windy as a sack full of farts.
Her mouth is goin' like a bell clappin' out of a goose's [backside]!
If ____'s lips are moving, s/he's lying.

Describing stupidity:
If ____ had a thought it would die of loneliness...
Light's on but no one is home!
...ain't got the sense God gave a goose!
If his brains was dynamite, he still couldn't blow his nose.
____'s crazier than an outhouse rat.

When you hope to do something:
God willing and the creek don't rise!

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

That Year End Wrap Up Post

2016 started out hopeful... kind of went straight to hell from there but ended on a decent note.  I gained many experiences.  I'm going to trust that the ones I didn't enjoy and don't see the reason for are truly needful in some plan bigger than me.

So just what did I do?

I started saying "YES" to the adventures that presented themselves.  I went out and explored myself instead of waiting for a human companion.  I took more pictures because this world is an icredibly beautiful place.  I talked to strangers and listened to their stories of how life led them from where they were to where they are now.  I healed my soul a bit more and got a little closer to actually being me again.

I experienced some firsts. Even at my age there are lots of first times left!

  • visited 13 states - AL, SC, VA, MD, WV, and PA for the first time
  • tasted hominy, sauerkraut, bok choy, fish sauce and persimmon
  • tried some new combinations of food - kidney beans and potatoes fried together, turnips cooked with beef, potatoes, onion, celery and carrots in a pressure cooker (I'd always eaten them raw from my Dad's garden before), a Pennsylvania Dutch dish called Slippery Pot Pie, and Vinegar Cake
  • lived without running water or electricity for 3 months in a semi-remote mountain setting
  • showered at a truck stop (I didn't even know you could before this experience!)
  • drove a box (moving) truck
  • had to ask for a jump when I ran my car battery out
  • gave a jump to a stranger who was stranded alongside the road having done the same
  • made blueberry jam (never lived where a bush grew in the yard before and I'm too cheap to buy them!)
  • got the car stuck, and luckily unstuck, in the mud a few times
  • learned to clip the dog's nails by myself

I also did some things again that I hadn't for a long long time...

  • bathed in a creek
  • pooped in an outhouse
  • shot a pistol
  • observed wildlife up close - mostly deer, wild turkey and a variety of other birds
  • blogged a bit more regularly (at least toward the end of the year)
  • picked enough wild blackberries and black raspberries to make jam
  • experienced a Ward/Stake split/reorganization at Church
  • took a course where I struggled hard to learn the material (thinking I will go out of  my way to avoid using it forever more - it was that hateful!)
  • read the Book of Mormon
  • forgave someone who was very hard to forgive

And I even did one thing that I'd sworn never again... moved to a place where winters are cold and snowy.

I've marveled repeatedly at just how adaptable, accepting, and forgiving my dogs are... troopers through thick and thin. They amaze and inspire me daily to try harder and do better and grow up to have their attitude about just taking life as it comes.

I failed friends.  Circumstances changed suddenly and I didn't/couldn't do what I promised and I'm still scrambling to get that set right. And friends failed me. Different ones in different ways. It hurts but I still love them and want them in my life so I'll get over it.

I've been scared. And sad, And lonely at times. I've had people worry about me. And I've wondered myself if I'm ever going to get me put back together and rebuild an entire life and future.

I've also felt peace and love and hope and connection.

And, again, declared the coming year to be THE YEAR OF ME!

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Just like all of us...

Bristol Palin blogs that free speech, and freedom, are sometimes uncomfortable.

She goes on to quote a Time Magazine article who's author's name I missed talking about the political stance one takes when they are offended being to silence their opponent rather than engage in a conversation where both sides may learn something. This is the concluding paragraph she quotes: "G.K. Chesterton said that bigotry is “an incapacity to conceive seriously the alternative to a proposition.” If he is right — and he usually is — then I wonder if the Duck Dynasty fiasco says more about our bigotry than Phil’s."

The past year has seen America ripped apart with polar opposite ideas on race, religion and lifestyle choices -- think Paula Deen, Trayvon Martin, and now Phil Robertson -- with even close friends finding themselves arguing bitterly over who is right.

Or more often, who is wrong.

And yet, I'd guess that, amongst my friends, most believe in God and that the Bible is His recorded word. There we are told one of the greatest of all the commandments is to "love thy neighbor as thyself." I say that loving someone, even unconditionally, doesn't mean you like or approve of everything they do. In that light... I think we'd all do well to stop and consider just what is spewing forth from that hole in our face.

I don't mean only the rabid comments both in support and condemnation for Mr. Robertson though that is what I'm thinking about today. We don't know him. Or at least I don't know him. And one outrageously coarse comment with no context doesn't give me the right to label him as anything.

Who or what he is, is between him and God.

I am among the part of the population who finds the show wildly entertaining and the characters engaging. I know I've seen all of them say stupid things and then turn around and utter the most profound wisdom. They may seem extreme. That's what sells on TV.  But if you look at the overall picture, the Robertsons are pretty normal folk - a mixture of good and bad.

Just like all of us.

There is hate enough to go around in this world...  I'm not sure why we talk about wanting love and acceptance for ourselves and then show our most vile contempt for anyone who makes different choices about their life than we do for ours.  Now and then we hear people say horrific things about women. And I've heard the most outrageously untrue and hateful things about Mormons. And Muslims. And Jews. And Blacks and Hispanics and... Everybody hates somebody! I'm not saying that as justification or to downplay anyone's pain. It's hurtful to be on the receiving end of hate no matter who you are.

But back to Ms. Palin's premise that free speech can be uncomfortable...

Yes, it can.  Free speech is Constitutionally protected in the First Amendment.  Having an opinion is legal.  But this isn't even a free speech issue.  In Mr. Robertson's case, no one has been arrested.  It's an employer telling an employee that their behavior reflected so badly on the company's image that their services are no longer needed.  A&E is well within their rights to make that call.  Mr. Robertson is entitled to his views, even to give them voice.  But that right doesn't protect him from the consequences of choosing to do so.

It's convenient to forget that with choices come consequences.  Consequences that are usually set before the choice is even made.  How often have I been taught that good choices bring happy consequences and bad choices bring unpleasant consequences?

I reap the consequence of each choice I make in a day.  And in any given day some of my choices are good and some are bad.  So do you.

Just like all of us.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Who would you want to talk to?

A few days ago Kelly Gray posted a question on her blog's facebook page, Then I Thought of Home - Kelly Gray, that's given me the opportunity to do some thinking.  She does things like that!  And sometimes I just have to write out my thoughts.  Her question:  "If you could spend time talking with anyone from the Christmas story, anyone other than Jesus because it's a given we would all chose Him, who would you chose? The Brave Mary or protective Joseph, the angels on High, the Inn Keeper, the Wise Men, the shepherds, Gabriel or maybe even find someone who isn't even mentioned in the story. Somebody who was watching from afar... Who would you want to talk to?"

All of the responses I read were from folks who wanted the chance to sit down for some one on one time with Mary.  They wanted to share the experience of motherhood and to know what she knew and how she found the courage to do what she did.  And I admit those are questions I would love to be able to ask her, too.

But if I could only choose one person from the Nativity to have a conversation with...

I'd choose Joseph.

I wrote a little about many of the characters in this post from December 2009.

Then I said about Joseph:  "In Joseph we find an example of a kind and tender man who agreed to raise a child not his own by going forward in marriage to an already pregnant young woman. He faithfully plays a quiet background role. In him, we glimpse into the heart of men who we might call unsung heroes who do their best to live an acceptable life and give meaningful service to those they love but do not seek the notice and praise of the world."

Walking With God by Morgan Weistling
http://artusa.com/product_details.php?id=9001

I think we overlook Joseph because there's so very little said about him.  And I kind of think that's the way he'd want it to be even though there is so much to learn from him and the way he chose to conduct himself and his business.  He was engaged to Mary before she conceived Jesus.  He thought he was marrying a virgin bride - that whole virgin thing was a big deal back then.  Not to downplay or poke fun at anyone's modesty or choice of abstinence now... just pointing out that now it's a choice, then it was punishable by death for a woman to be so "unclean."  When Joseph found out that Mary was pregnant he would have been perfectly justified under the law and social norms of his day to demand that she be stoned to death at the city gate.  Yet the scriptures tell us that he sought to have her put away quietly.

Imagine Joseph, his heart broken from thinking she'd found another that she loved enough to give herself to despite the arrangement her family had entered into with him, asking to break the engagement quietly and not draw attention to her condition.  When my feelings are hurt how to be kind is not often the first thought that pops in my mind.  To always react with love is a big lesson I can learn from Joseph's example.

And then the Angel came to him... I'd love to know more about that conversation!  What did Joseph learn that convinced him to move forward with the marriage?  And I have all the same questions for him, that so many would like to ask Mary.  What did you know about Him?  How did you find the courage to step-father the very Son of God?  What did you teach Him?  What did He teach you in the quiet moments you shared simply being father and son?

In this song, I love all the layers of meaning that might be found in the line "I was not His father... He was mine!"



Joseph's Song from The Forgotten Carols
written and performed by Michael McLean

Yes, I'd dearly love to meet Joseph and talk with him for hours about Jesus and the greatest truths he'd ever known!

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Droid...

Photo courtesy of Single Dad Laughing's
Facebook post 12/8/13.
When I moved to Georgia one of the very first things Derek did was drag me to the Verizon store to trade in my oh so simple flip phone for a fancy-schmancy 'smart phone.'  And I've hated that phone... It's had some operational issues where it didn't ring with an incoming call and just sent the caller directly to voicemail until they shot me texts askings where the %^&$# I was and why the (&^% I wasn't answering their calls.  And all the functions and apps and alarms and voices and stuff made me feel dumb.  And I felt like a slave with an obligation to see what it was every time the dumb thing said "DROID" in my pocket or purse.

A couple of weeks ago one of the dogs, presumably Gizmo since he has a taste for electronics, found Derek's even smarter smart phone unattended on the table.  He tried to make it his mid-day snack.  Whether he's the one that got it off the table or not, he is the one I found huddled over it on the floor.

And since Derek didn't continue the $6 a month insurance, there's no free replacement...

And since we're broke, buying him another one is out of the question...

And since he needs to carry a phone with him for his work, he's been taking mine.

And you know what?

I'm not even missing the silly thing 95% of the time.  Now and then it would be convenient.  Some may even call it needful since we don't have a landline at home but not being tied to a phone and all the demands it presents has been freeing.  We talked a little about getting me another cheap flip phone and he will use my Android but I'm thinking I might just not get another one at all.

How's that for simplifying life?

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Random-nimity

When I was a baby, not even big enough to remember her ever working on it, my Grandma Clarke made me a true patchwork quilt.  Still buried in one of the dozen boxes to be unpacked when I finally get my 'woman cave,' it's made of randomly shaped and sized pieces of silky fabric that came mostly from her dresses or the scraps of material left when she made a new one.  I can sort of remember her in a couple of the dresses and there are old black and white photos where you can match the fabric pattern up for a few more, but most of them totally escape my memory.

I was thinking about that quilt the other day and how the random acts of a life can be a lot like one of those 'crazy patch' quilts.

And that's what today is about...

Random things.

Not so much that they're too insignificant to be the topic of an entire blog post, or even Facebook update, just that the post never came together and materialized in a form I wanted to share.  Mostly it's little things...  Things like how luck works.

It's no secret that we are pretty desperately poor and really scraping to make bills each month.  That's part of what irritated me, though I kept silent about it, when Derek bought the occasional lottery ticket.  Except... last night he got a winning ticket!  One worth more than the $5 he put into it.  A LOT more!!

That's right!  $500, baby!!!

That makes the mortgage for November a whole lot easier!

And I put up the fridge magnets (FINALLY!) that I kept during last year's move.  My friend's son's pictures have been in these magnetic frames for... well, I don't really remember when I put them in the frames but it's been a long time.  Those little boys have long been grown men by now.

Nathan, the older one, used to call me whenever he could sneak it past mom's watchful eye.  It was a long distance call - they lived in Wyoming then and I still lived in Idaho.  He was polite and thoughtful, almost like an old-time suitor.  He never failed to inquire about my mom's health, the weather, work, our small black poodle...  For a little man, Nathan sure could carry on the grown up conversation!  And it just tickled me pink and gave me quite the thrill that out of all the people in the world, he'd choose to call me.

I wonder if he remembers?

For about an hour this afternoon we all made a dog pile on the bed and watched football.  I think it was the Florida/Maryland game... but I'm not enough of a fan to really follow super close so I could be wrong.  For me watching a sports event is more of a social thing than actually being a fan of the team or sport.  I understand what's happening enough to enjoy the game, but not enough to seek it out on my own.

All of which has absolutely nothing to do with anything...

Pardon the puppy porn...
In the dog pile, Gizmo kept turning over and skooching around to find the most comfortable spot.  He ended up stretched along my side on his back with my arms around his butt.  (Insert bad joke about him being such a little cuddle butt.)  What I was noticing, though, is the skin of his tummy region where it's less covered by fur.  It's both dark brown and pale pink in blotches much like the Indian Paint Ponies made famous in B-grade western movies.  And so so soft and warm!

And, she says with an evil grin, ticklish!!

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Sweet Tater, Sweet Tater

I gave in to a craving today.

Who knew I would ever be able to eat a sweet potato without pulling a face that speaks volumes about icky?  Let alone spend the last 9 months craving them...

9 months.  Yeah.  Time for some folks to have a baby.  They can create a whole new human being and I'm over here in the corner with a little drool hanging off my lip thinking 'sweeeeeeet pooooootaaaaaaato.'

I guess I should clarify, I've found one, just one, recipe for sweet potatoes that I like.  I will still cringe in utter disgust at that marshmallow encrusted pile of yuckiness I grew up with during the holidays or those sweet potato fries I grabbed by mistake in the grocery store once... but these I like.  I mean I REALLY like them!

Hot from the oven!

Sweet Potato Casserole

Heat oven to 350F.

Mix together and spread into a greased casserole dish:
3 cups cooked and mashed sweet potatoes (canned is ok)
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup melted butter (not margarine)
1/4 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla

Mix in a small bowl until it forms small clusters:
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup flour
1/2 cup chopped pecans
3 Tbl melted butter

Sprinkle clusters over potato mixture in casserole dish.  Bake for 25-30 minutes.  Remove from oven and let sit at least 10 minutes before serving to finish setting up.

[Edit:  the original recipe, which I modified slightly, called for 1 egg in the potatoes.  I forgot to add it!  I think if you did, it would add a little bit of lightness to the texture and perhaps help it hold its shape a little better when serving.  But it worked just fine for what I was craving without the egg.]

A comical side story...

I grew up saying praline like PRAY-leen.  When I moved to Georgia, Derek's family says it like prah-LEEN.  I knew they were a Southern thing so I just assumed I'd been saying it wrong all along but then, when I was buying the brown sugar and pecans for this dish, the grocery clerk said it made her think of pralines and she said it like I do!!  Now I'm all sorts of confused...

How do YOU say praline?  Do you say PRAY-leen or prah-LEEN?

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Words

I know he's faced more than his share of difficulties, some past and more in the here and now... and that made his poignant words so much more meaningful and eloquent.

--------

We have been taught that words have power. And this is very true. Words can elate, wound, support, undermine, inspire, and demoralize. But sometimes we forget that words can also be without substance. We tell people that we are proud of them, supportive of them, even love them, and think that is all we need. We think we have been a good person and have enhanced the lives of the people we care about.

But at other times, we find ourselves in an uncomfortable position with someone. We see them making choices that we feel are wrong, or even dangerous. We watch them in pain, or lost in their lives. We hear them sharing situations in their lives that we don’t understand, or feel opposed to. At these points, we may not know what to do, so we retreat and hope things get better. We avoid the things that make us uncomfortable and tell ourselves that we care and just don't know how to help.

But, if we truly care, and if we truly are worried about the welfare of someone, why in the world DON'T we say anything? If we see someone headed down what we believe to be a dangerous path, WHY aren't we speaking up, sharing our concerns, seeking understanding, and fighting for that person? Why do we leave them to weather the storm on their own? Is it enough for us to remain silent and feel content that we will be there for them should they return to our perceived correct path?

We say we care, but how much do we care? Enough to actually take action? Sometimes it is amazing how much the simple act of showing up can mean to someone. Sometimes a cup of coffee, a movie, a drive, or even a hug can make a world of difference.

I know I have been guilty of this in the past, but I resolve to watch for those opportunities where I can take meaningful action as well as share the kind and supportive words.

Justin Larson

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Things That Might Have Been

They say that you walk past a thousand opportunities a day without ever seeing them...  Usually you hear that in respect to financial pursuits, but I think it applies to many things.

Today a friendship died because the opportunity to understand each other and reach out with love and respect was left unseen.  It just degenerated into name calling, insults and misunderstanding.  That's a sad thing.

I take responsibility for the part I had in that happening.  I was bored and I knew in the back of my mind that this person would react negatively, maybe even purposely misunderstand to justify his reaction, because of the topic and yet I brought it up.  On some level I might have baited him looking for an argument to ease the boredom.  That wasn't my conscious intention, at least not in the beginning, and I'm not especially proud of myself for it but one thing I am is honest.  Quite often brutally honest.
Copied from an unattributed Facebook post

Take up the argument he did!

He came out of the corner throwing punches and told me over and over that I only pretend to understand an issue before I pronounce my opinion as a gospel fact... that what I think about current events is a joke... that I will never understand where he's coming from and therefore have no right to speak...  and that anyone who agrees with my point of view is, basically, a sellout.  Insult after insult was hurled at me.  Until I said I didn't want to be friends any longer because he was being such a hurtful jerk and not contributing anything useful to the conversation.

I still don't know where he stands only that in his mind where I stand is wrong, wrong, wrong and WRONG!

What were we fighting about?

Something you'd think would be easy to agree on... the tragedy a family feels when a child is murdered.  I think that is a horrific thing for every family that has to experience it.  He felt it was a different ballgame if the murderer was not punished the way he saw fit and that those times deserved a stronger outrage from all of society.  And if you didn't react just like him... well, then you just are too dumb to 'get it.'

I'm a little sad it's over but I also think it's the best thing that could happen given the situation.  I don't think it's salvageable and even if it was, being so negative, I'm not going to put in the effort to patch it up.  I'd always be wondering when he'd verbally attack me again.  I don't trust him any longer... and can there be a real friendship without trust?

So I'm choosing to just let it go and move on with loving the people around me better.

And for the record... I still say every child that is killed or molested or otherwise abused is a tragedy.  Not just the ones that meet someone's narrow criteria set, but EVERY CHILD.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Why I Talk To Strangers

Probably more than 20 years ago I dated a man named Larry for a short while who, in retrospect, was the most unlikely of matches. He was, and I assume still is, very nice, kind, serious, committed to his beliefs and a professional musician who'd been raised in New York City.  Some of the differences in our outlooks on life,Larry attributed to his big city sensibilities.  The one that bothered me to the point of seeing it as near insurmountable problem is that I talk to everyone and he felt no trust for, or desire to converse with, unknown people who walked by on the street. One time we drove from Salt Lake City down to Arches National Park in south central Utah and, of course... got a little off course somewhere along the road.  A little off I-15 we found a small town, probably Price, and as he parked to study the map (no GPS back in the old days!) I rolled down the window and asked the man walking by for directions.

Oh. My. Goodness!!  I got an earful about that!  Larry told me not to talk to people I don't know because you never knew which one was going to be a rapist or murderer.  He was sincerely concerned that my actions were going to get us mugged.  As a small town native, I was perfectly comfortable and felt safe striking up a conversation in this environment.  It was surely a lesson in perspective.  For the rest of the time we saw each other I tried to be respectful of his wishes but... well, lets just say I wasn't always successful in keeping my mouth shut.  And I still talk to strangers everywhere I go to this day.

Just today I had the most wonderful conversation at Hobby Lobby with a woman named Randy.

If you had any idea how many needles and crochet hooks I have... you'd understand my amusement at the irony of finding myself on that isle.  But the ones I've had forever are packed away and I don't know which box.  It seemed so much easier and sensible to just spend the $3.50-ish so I could make a birthday present for my sister-in-law-to-be than to spend hours, maybe days, dragging boxes out of the storage room and sorting through them.  So... that's why I was at Hobby Lobby this beautiful Saturday morning.  Randy was already on the same isle looking at yarn needles when I walked up and she seemed to be having a really rough time deciding what size she needed.  I was standing back patiently waiting my turn to pick up the package I'd decided on.

Photo credit:  www.redletterwords.com
After a few minutes, she turned to me and asked "Do you know anything about quilting?"

Quilting is not really my crafting forte but I do know the basics.  My mom, aunts, both grandmas and I'd guess all the great-grandmas quilted so I've been around quilts up on the frames since I was a small child.  I've even helped with a few of those quilts.  Figuring I could possibly say something semi-intelligent about the subject, I asked her what she was making.  And Randy went on to describe the most amazing project the ladies' auxiliary at her church does on (I think) a regular ongoing basis.

They make prayer quilts for a local hospital.  Each quilt is personalized with the recipient's name.  That's done with a fusible pellon type product and then embroidery thread or worsted weight yarn is pulled through on a grid.  If you're a quilt person, you probably recognize this is how you "tie a quilt" to attach the back and batting to the top.  But the neat thing they were doing was just putting the threads in place at this stage.  Then the quilts were placed over the banister in their church's sanctuary and as people pass by they say a prayer for that person to be healed or comforted or whatever and knot one of the ties.  I LOVE the idea of making a personal investment like that!

Randy went on to tell me a little bit about her church and to invite me to their quilting activity held the 2nd Saturday morning and every Wednesday evening of the month.  She also shared a bit of her personal conversion and walk with Jesus.  I walked away with a new friend and her phone number and... I might just go quilting one of these Saturdays.  After I figure out where Buford is and how to get there.

Now Randy practices a different faith than I do...  but I was so impressed with her courage to express her faith and invite others to participate in such a simple and everyday situation.  So many times I've been in church meetings listening to everyone say how uncomfortable they were with sharing the gospel.  And feeling that sick gnawing in the pit of my own stomach.  The fear that someone won't like us is almost overwhelming.  Today's encounter showed me just how easy, and fun, it could be to put  "every member a missionary' into practice.  Now if you are a Mormon it's likely you've also had that phrase strike the same terror in your heart.  But see just how easy and natural it can be?