Doing Life Together

The Sweetest Sound

Posted on March 25, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

In a doctor’s office waiting room, a serene young mother interacts with her approximately one-year-old daughter. The toddler walks back and forth between her mom and other enticing areas of the room, examining toys, scrambling up on an empty chair. The little one frequently looks back at her mom, whose eyes are always ready to meet hers. The mom offers the little girl an apple, which she eagerly accepts. Clearly, this mother loves and nurtures her child.

But one thing is oddly missing. During the ten minutes I observe, neither mother nor child utters a word.

I think back to the days when I was the stay-at-home mom with the toddlers in the waiting room, days characterized by noise and chaos. By the age of twelve months, my kids were stringing words together. They processed the world verbally with delighted squeals and enthusiastic exclamations, naming everything they encountered, and expecting me to participate in the conversation. They were anything but silent. Keeping them quiet during a Sunday sermon was next to impossible.

Photo by Joe Shlobotnik on flickr

Frankly, I was envious of this peaceful mother. Maybe I made my life, and the lives of all the people around me, a lot less pleasant with all the talking I did with my babies. I thought I was doing the right thing. Maybe I screwed up.

I googled “scientific benefits of not talking to babies.” I expected to find articles praising well-behaved, silent children and explaining how to raise kids to be taciturn, but I didn’t. Instead, I found articles on the benefits of talking to babies.

Research shows that speaking to children from birth (and even before) positively impacts their language development, their success in school, and even their future earning power.

What?

Photo by devinf on flickr

In a 1995 book Meaningful Differences in the Everyday Experiences of Young American Children, researchers Betty Hart and Todd R. Risley determined in a sample study that children whose families were on welfare heard about 600 words an hour spoken by their parents and/or caretakers. Working class children heard 1,200 words per hour, and children from professional families heard 2,100 words. The greater the number of words children heard from their parents or caretakers before they were 3, the higher their IQ and the better they did in school. But it needed to be words directed to them, as in conversation or a read-aloud story. Words on TV or on a video didn’t contribute to the effect; if anything, they subtracted from it.

Would you like to read some of the research for yourself? Click on these links:

Parents who work full-time may feel discouraged about squeezing in another thing-to-do in relation to raising their children. Who has the time or energy to think of thousands of words to say to their kiddos every day? But it’s a simply a matter of using time together to best advantage–while riding in the car, while running errands, during “down time” before bed. In Chicago, the Thirty Million Words Project teaches parents how to talk to their babies. I love how this young mother takes cues from her little daughter, embellishing on her comments and taking the conversation one step deeper:

And in Providence RI, a similar initiative is offered to families.

Would you give the gift of yourself to your child, if it meant better brain development? Time spent in infancy could eliminate the need for costly tutoring later. The side benefit of this kind of interaction is the deep bond it fosters. The flip side, as Hart and Risley’s study determined, is that children’s level of language starts to level off when it matches that of their parents, which means language deficiency is passed down through generations. (Do you ever wonder why some children who grew up in poverty become successful innovators as adults? Maybe it was something as simple as a parent, grandparent, or caretaker who consistently spoke to them.)

If my own experience is any indication of the success of this strategy, my very verbal brood were all reading by the time they entered kindergarten. Four of the five were selected for their district’s gifted program in elementary school. Three of them have bachelors degrees, one has an AA, and the first child (overachiever) has two Masters and is finishing her Ph.D.

Would you like to buy a word-counting device like the one shown to use at your home? Versame manufactures one.

So, what do you think? If you have little ones at home, do you (or will you) keep a running conversation going? Will you read them stories every night (and before nap time, too, if you’re at home)? Can you think of any reason not to?

Posted in Babies, Brain research, Doing Life Together, Grandparenting, Life, Love, Parenting | Tagged children, Doing Life Together, sharing life, Speaking to babies, Teaching babies language | 4 Comments

5 Ways to Teach Kindness to Your Kids

Posted on March 18, 2016 by Linda Carlblom

Children being kind to each other. Brothers and sisters helping one another. A child comforting another child when he’s hurt. All are wonderful sights. But how does a child become kind and compassionate?

By being taught and witnessing it in the lives of the people he loves. When a child is treated kindly, he learns to respond the same way. The same goes for compassion. Here are a few ideas of how you can teach kindness to your kids.

1. When you hear a child crying in the store, don’t get annoyed. Tell your child, “It sounds like someone feels sad.” This acknowledges the noise, yet links it to an emotion. It makes you and your child feel bad for the sad child instead of yourself.

2. Take your children with you when you visit someone in the hospital. Let them hear the things you say to the patient and see how you gently touch them. Include them in the conversation.

3. When you see a homeless person, stop and give them something. We sometimes make a stop at the dollar store and pick up a few items of food, chapstick, bottled water, combs, etc. and go back to give it to the person. Talking to someone who’s different takes away some of the mystery and fear of them. When children see and hear a homeless person’s surprised and grateful response it impacts them deeply. The needy person’s smile will remain in your child’s mind long after the actual encounter.

4. Before your child has a friend over, remind her to play things the friend would like to play, to let the friend go first, and to treat the friend as the special guest he or she is.

5. Allow a child to help any way he can. This includes providing comfort to others of any age. Compliment their kindness.

Children can be taught kindness just as we teach them anything else in life. As always, the best teacher is your example, so be consistently kind to others and to your child. Speak gently and be kind through your actions and attitude.

What things have you done to teach kindness to your kids? In what ways have you seen your child being kind or compassionate?

Linda

Posted in Kindness, Parenting, Uncategorized | Tagged children, compassion, Kindness, Parenting | 5 Comments

Single in the Family of God

Posted on March 4, 2016 by Allison Boley

My thoughts rarely take the form of words. I like to think this is because life’s deepest truths take place outside the realm of words, but maybe it’s just because I’m introverted and not very verbal. But for the first time, I’m helping plan a church event in part for families, and like snowflakes, all my thoughts about singleness and the church are crystallizing. So I’m articulating some of them here while I can, in the hopes that they might give a voice to someone else who’s like me, and that they might provide a different perspective for those who haven’t yet considered it.

I read a blog on this very subject a couple months ago that said something along the lines of that it might be harder to be single in the church than to be single outside the church. I’d take away the “might” and say the church is the only place I’ve found it hard to be single.

I’m single by choice. I love the autonomy, the freedom to serve Christ in any capacity at a moment’s notice. (I also love the autonomy for more selfish reasons.) I love the time to think in quiet, to pray without interruption, to lie on the floor and listen to music for hours, to just be. I view my singleness as a treasure, and my whole life I’ve only met one guy wonderful enough to make me want to hand over my treasure of singleness. Sure, there are times of loneliness, and in those times I love my singleness a little less. But I view any circumstance that drives me to God as a good thing. And let’s be real: plenty of married people are still lonely. I’d rather be lonely and single than lonely and married. Plus I’m fortunate — like do a dance and a cartwheel fortunate — to have a handful of emotionally intimate friendships and a wide community. I’m also fortunate to live in a time when women don’t have to get married in order to have income or social standing. I like my life.

But I’ve become aware that not everyone is as pleased with the life I’ve chosen. I’ve been called a homophobic slur to my face, insulted in subtler ways, argued with, and nagged as if I were procrastinating a chore. And every time without exception, it’s been by a fellow Christian.

I know I am also fortunate that for the most part, these have been isolated incidents, nothing like what I know many other single Christians experience regularly. Most of all, I’m fortunate that every church I’ve attended is led by people who value singleness and intentionally search for ways to be inclusive. (Realistically, I would not attend a church that didn’t believe singleness is equal to marriage.)

And so I don’t want to dwell on the negative. I want to articulate steps I will take in planning church-wide events in order to intentionally act out the respect I know my church has for singles.

1. I will call it a community event, not a family event. I’ve heard many sermons from many churches about marriage with the disclaimer that it’s great to be single, but today’s sermon is on marriage. But I’ve never in my life heard a disclaimer about how sure, it’s great to be married, but today’s sermon is on singleness (and preferably that sermon would be given by someone who hasn’t spent most of her or his adult life married). While I appreciate the acknowledgement, I’m tired of being the exception, and I don’t want to make anyone else feel like the exception, either. Instead, I will advocate calling the event a community event. That way, families are a subset of community in the same way a group of friends or a Bible study is a subset of community. Don’t get me wrong — it’s fine to have a family-only event, just like it’s fine to have a women-only event or a high school-only event. But if it’s a church-wide event, I’ll do my best not to call it a family event.

2. I will suggest activities that can be enjoyed with or without children. I think it’s vital to make church-wide events accessible to kids, but I also think it’s vital to make church events accessible to adults who don’t have kids. If the only activities at a church carnival, for example, are aimed at kids, then it excludes, even unintentionally, adults who may not feel like giving up an afternoon just to watch everyone else’s kids have fun.

3. I will provide a way for singles to experience the event in groups if they so choose, without it becoming a “singles” group. Many families in my church are fantastic about this actually, about including a single friend as part of their community in a genuine and natural way. But if I’m on the official end of planning, I’d like to make it an official, though ideally natural, part of the event. This particular event we’re planning involves different “stations” to be experienced by groups of people who move from station to station. I think part of respecting singles in this situation harkens back to my first point, by not making it a “family” event, which would encourage people to think about families experiencing the event as a unit by themselves. One alternate option is to group people by arrival time. This could keep families together while including others as part of the group without them feeling awkward like they were being tacked onto a family.

That said, while I’ve thought a lot about being single, particularly in the church, I’m relatively new to this whole church-wide planning thing. I’d love to hear from you in the comments if you’ve traversed this road before me. What other ideas have worked for you to intentionally include those who may not have family in your church?

Posted in Church, Doing Life Together, Introvert, Marriage, Service | 6 Comments

When We Think We Are Failures

Posted on March 1, 2016 by Judy Robertson

I come to You this morning, Lord, as a failure—one who can’t get the job done. I’ve failed at the social media/blog stuff—I’ve failed at revealing you to others. My heart is broken. You take failures, don’t You, Lord? I’m grateful, because I am one.

This was my open confession to God today. There’s no use hiding. He knows my ways.

A devotional I read this morning caught my eye. “I know my own failure better than I know anything else in life. Take away my sin, O God, and heal my brokenness. Repair my life that I may yet glorify Your Name” (Senior’s Bible, John Killin, P. 462).

Have you ever felt as though you’re a failure and have become discouraged? We all, I would guess, have been there at one time or another.

What helps turn this around? Where do we go from hanging our heads in shame and maybe some self-pity thrown in, to walking tall and having a smile on our face?

For me it takes some time alone to re-evaluate my own definition of why I believe I’m a failure. And I usually come to this: By whose definition am I a failure? To name a few: I don’t measure up to my own expectations, or in comparison to so- and- so, I just don’t make the grade.

Is that the measuring rod I need to use–how well someone else does this or that?

It’s a necessary part of the evaluation for me, to find someone in the Bible who has experienced believing they were a failure. I even asked, “Lord, are there examples in the Bible of some who thought they were failures and resisted your clear call?” Hmm, glad you asked.

For starters there was Moses who, when God said He was sending him to bring the Israelites out of Egypt, argued with God saying he was not eloquent and that he was slow of speech and tongue. But God reminded Moses, “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say” (Exodus 4:10-11, 13). Moses was so afraid he was unable to perform what God was telling him to do that he had the nerve to continue pleading with Him and said: “O Lord, please send someone else to do it.” Moses was so insecure in his own abilities that God became red hot angry with him. Despite Moses fear, God exhibited amazing patience with His servant.

Then there was Elijah who had, by God’s power, stacked up quite a few credits as God’s prophet. He had predicted a famine in Israel…and God fed him by ravens. He raised the Sidonian widow’s son from the dead, he defeated the prophets of Baal at Carmel, to name a few. And then he became afraid of the evil Jezebel. It’s surprising to see one who was such a faithful servant tuck his tail and run.

There are times when the job just seems too much for us. Elijah was so fearful and tired that he asked God to take his life. Elijah “…prayed that he might die. ‘I’ve had enough Lord,’ He said, ‘Take my life.’ Then he lay down under the tree and fell asleep” (I Kings 19:3-5). Then God mercifully deployed His angels to feed Elijah. “All at once an angel touched him and said, ‘Get up and eat.’ And there by his head was a cake of bread baked over hot coals and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again.” I can imagine Elijah sleeping deeply and then, “The angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, ‘Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you’” (I Kings 19:7). Not intending to oversimplify, sometimes we just need a good meal and a nap.

All this happened toward the end of Elijah’s life journey and shortly before his successor, Elisha, was anointed to take his place.

The disciples must have felt like the worst of failures when at Gethsemane Jesus asked them to “Stay here and keep watch” for Him. But when He returned they were sound asleep. “Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing but the body is weak” (Mark 14:32-38).

Many times we fall short of being the servant Jesus asks us to be. We miss the mark. We blow it.

At times like this the only place to go is to His feet confessing our sin and weakness and asking for the strength to get us through. Jesus told His disciples to “Come away with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest” (Mark 6:31). Jesus often drew away from the crowds Himself.

Do you know a place that is peaceful and quiet where you can slip away for a half day, even a whole day or weekend? If not, ask God to show you such a place and make plans to go there, rest and invite Jesus to come with you. What a difference a day away can make.

Looking at discouragement I realize we have an enemy in this world who wants us to be discouraged. In fact our struggle is “not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). Make this time of getting away and resting a time to re-arm yourself with “the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes” (Ephesians 6:11). “In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one” (Ephesians 6:16).

We are not alone in this battle of believing we are failures– when we may be exactly where God wants us to be.

When it seems like I’m failing in doing life, perhaps the only thing in which I’m actually failing is trusting that God is instructing me and teaching me in the way I should go, counseling me and watching over me. (From Psalm 32:8)

Emily Freeman says it like this: “The truth is my slowness is not a fault or a sin, but fighting it might be. I tend to think my limitations are my burdens but perhaps they are actually my gifts if I’m willing to see them that way” (Simply Tuesday, Emily Freeman, P.95).

When my trust gauge is bouncing on empty that’s my indication I need to fill up with God’s promises and rest in Him.

More than conquerors (Romans 8:37)

Posted in Being still before God, Confession, failure, Faith, peace, Prayer, Regrets, rest, Trust in God's promises, weakness, When life seems too much | Tagged despair, failure, faith, Prayer | 1 Comment

Ideal…by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on February 26, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

In response to The Daily Post prompt: Teen Age Idol

When I first read this prompt, it sparked a memory from my childhood. When I was about eight years old, my mother asked me to identify an ideal—a person who epitomized characteristics that I would like to have when I grew up.

I chose Elaine, a teenager whose family had recently moved into the house across the street. That house used to belong to my best friend Bonnie Ann’s family, but during the week my baby brother was born, while I stayed with my Aunt Monika and Uncle Hughie and my cousins Monica and Billy, Bonnie Ann’s family moved away.

As excited as I was about having a baby brother, I missed Bonnie fiercely. We’d been constant companions for as long as I could remember. She’d been telling me for months that she was moving away very soon, but since it hadn’t happened, I didn’t believe it. Now she was gone, and I didn’t even get to say “Goodbye.”

One day, I guess to get me out of her hair, my mother suggested I cross the street and introduce myself to our new neighbors. She promised me a girl lived in Bonnie’s old house.

When a tall young lady answered the door, I said, “I’m Andrea. I live across the street, and I want to meet your girl.”

“Well, I’m the girl,” she said, throwing the door wide open for me to enter.

Bonnie’s house looked completely different. The first thing I noticed was the loud tick-tocking of a grandmother clock in the kitchen. I also noticed a piano. “I have a piano at my house,” I said. “I’m going to take piano lessons next year.”

“I take piano lessons,” said the girl, whose name was Elaine, the most beautiful name I’d ever heard. She sat down at the keyboard and played a few songs for me. I admired her long hair, which hung down her back in a braided ponytail. She wore butterfly-wing eyeglasses.

I visited Elaine often during the next few months. She always tolerated me for a half hour or more, then politely begged off so she could do her homework. Eventually, I spent more time with friends my own age, but Elaine and I always waved to each other or spent a few minutes talking when we saw each other around the neighborhood.

So when Mom asked me to think of an ideal, I immediately blurted out, “Elaine.”

“Why?” my mother asked.

“Because she’s nice, and she’s pretty, and she plays the piano, and she’s smart.” That pretty much summed up everything I aspired to.

“Okay,” she replied, seemingly satisfied.

And every now and then (usually when I was procrastinating from practicing piano) my mother would chide, “What do you think Elaine is doing right now?” The notes of Elaine’s piano floated through the open window, nudging me toward my piano bench.

When I entered high school, my friend Patty pointed out an upper class girl and said, “She’s my ideal.” She then enumerated all the reasons why she wanted to be just like her. Patty was the only one of my friends who ever spoke about having an ideal.

When I read The Daily Post’s prompt for January 11, 2016, it occurred to me that my mother (and maybe Patty’s) must have been trying to counteract the influence of cultural idols in my life. The teen-age idol is someone who is “worshipped” because of celebrity. My mother wanted me to admire people because of their character.

Although I did succumb to popular mania (see that story here), I learned to appreciate excellence over popularity. Thanks, Mom.

Posted in Doing Life Together, Family Life, Friendship, Ideals, Parenting, Practicing piano | Tagged children, friendship, Ideal, idols, memoir | 4 Comments

Thankful for an Ever-Present God

Posted on February 19, 2016 by Linda Carlblom

Monday morning I was working at my volunteer job and got a call from my twenty-year-old daughter. She never calls me at work. Texts? Yes. But never calls. So I answered immediately.

“I rear-ended a lady on the freeway. It was just a fender-bender.”

chicago-car-accident-lawyer1

I remained calm outwardly, but felt instantly shaken within. I wanted to rush to her to make sure she was all right, to see for myself she wasn’t hurt, and help her with the process of reporting an accident. I could hardly concentrate on my work.

But then I remembered the simple truth I grew up hearing and believing. God is always with you. He was with my daughter even though I couldn’t be. He would see her through this scary experience and help her in ways I couldn’t.

My shoulders relaxed. I was thankful instead of worried. It’s nearly impossible to be both at the same time.

I was thankful my daughter was OK. I was thankful to see her carefree self walk through the door that evening. To listen to her long-winded chatter about her day, her accident, her life. I wanted to hear every word, see her giving the dogs belly rubs, watch her make a snack in the kitchen.

God’s presence is enough for every situation, both good and bad. I don’t have to worry when I know everything is held in His great, big, loving hands. Even when the news is devastating, the report bad, the answers unknown, God walks beside me and those I love, giving us peace and strength to face whatever lies ahead.

He’s there for you, too.

God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1 (NIV)

Linda

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

Imitation is the Highest Form of Flattery

Posted on February 13, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

In response to The Daily Post Photography Challenge prompt, Life Imitates Art, I submit a photo I took during a high school reunion weekend:

This is a portion of a large mural on the wall of the cafeteria of my alma mater. Can you guess our mascot?

Posted in Art, photography, Uncategorized | Tagged American Gothic, Life imitates art, The Daily Post Photo Challenge | 1 Comment

Arizona Fine Art Expo…by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on February 9, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

If you are in the greater Phoenix metropolitan area any time between now and April 3, 2016, be sure to visit the Arizona Fine Art Expo.

In North Scottsdale on the west side of Scottsdale Road just south of Jomax, set up near MacDonalds Ranch are 44,000 square feet of tents sheltering exhibits of the work of 120 artists. Passes for the duration of the show are $10 ($8 for military and ages 55+). The Expo is open from 10 AM to 6 PM. Plan to go back for multiple visits. I began to get museum overload after three hours. You can’t see everything in one trip.

by Robin Ray

by Shangri-La Woodworks

by Ted Blaylock

And if you are in the market for one or more large statement pieces for your home or business, this is the place you’ll find it.

Mind you, this is not a craft show; this is fine art (translation: prices range well into the thousands of dollars). The work is by established artists, many of whom have decades of experience. Most come from Arizona and surrounding states; others from as far away as Texas, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Kansas, Iowa, and Minnesota. Some of the artists are actually producing work at the Expo, and most are happy to talk about their creative process. Many make custom artwork.

Sculptor Richard Tucker with a horse-in-progress

by Carol Schinkel

More by Carol Schinkel

What is noteworthy about this show is its diversity. From painting, photography, and sculpture to ceramics, furniture, and less-easily categorized pieces. Lots of Western art, as you would expect from the origins of the artists, but also every style—realistic, abstract, impressionist, folk, cartoonish, and uniquely original.

In an outdoor space surrounded by the tents, there is a garden where some of the larger sculptures are located, along with seating and tables for lunch or a quick snack. There is even a cafe.

by Lynette Moody

by Richard Tucker

Abstract Bird by Tendai Gwaravaza (cobalt)

by Jess Davila

Here is a lovely writing table by John Montoya:

Note the stone inlay:

This credenza is a joint project between John and his wife Betsy Montoya, who painted the colorful buffalo panel.

And this console table is covered in cow hide

and has inlay on the top.

The photographic images below are by Lee Hendrickson. Watch ARHtistic License for an article about him on March 20,2016.

The map below is by Janelle Lindley. A future article on Lindley will appear on ARHtistic License on April 19, 2016.

Some of Ed Caldie‘s artwork hints at another of his passions.

A pianist, he said, “I wish I could make a visual representation of what I hear when I listen to music.” I think he did a pretty good job with Rhapsody. Musicians would understand this:

And one more, Arpeggio:

David Garrison spends part of his year painting in France. Is it just me, or do you see a little Degas influence in his work:

And more:

Honestly, you can almost feel the spray off the waterfall.

Scott Woodward works in sculpture and mixed media. He loves intense color.

Scott L. Wallis paints lush landscapes and florals.

Paula Yates does life-like bronze sculpture:

Bob Coonts‘ love of animals and color shows in his work:

It is said that after Beethoven lost his hearing, he took the legs off his piano, the better to feel the vibrations through the floor. Here is sculptor Phillip Payne‘s rendering of Beethoven: Feeling the Music:

I hope to go back to the Arizona Fine Art Expo at least once more before it closes, and take some more photographs to share. In the meantime, though, go, if you can. It’s a feast for the eyes. And maybe you can even buy something to enjoy in your own home.

Posted in Art, Creativity, Phoenix AZ | Tagged Arizona Fine Art Expo, AZ | 3 Comments

In Praise of Afternoons…by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on January 22, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

In response to the The Daily Post prompt: Because the Night.

If you had asked me in my twenties what time of day I did my best work, I would have said, “In the morning.” I married an early bird, and once I adopted his strategy for catching the worm, I was hooked.

Fir0002/Flagstaffotos

The strategy worked well during my child-rearing years. When the kids were small, they woke as soon as they heard us stirring, eager to get on with the day, reluctant to miss anything.

Waking early also served me well during my teaching career. Getting to work early gave my brain time to prepare for my students.

But when I left teaching for my new writing life, my brain underwent a paradigm shift.

Firstly, I must explain how physically and emotionally exhausted I was. For more than eight years, I’d worked at a job that was never done. I got there early, stayed late, and brought work home with me. On weekends and breaks, I did professional development and volunteer work for my school in addition to correcting papers, documenting student progress, and planning lessons. I put in at least 60 hours a week, and I got by on 5-6 hours sleep a night.

You can only do that for so many years before it takes a tremendous toll on your body.

My first months at home, I was a zombie until noon. A few days I slept until 11:00. When I did get up earlier, all I wanted to do in the morning was eat breakfast and watch reruns of Dog the Bounty Hunter. It wasn’t until the sun reached its zenith that I had any energy to actually do something.

Found on Pinterest; photographer unknown.

I determined that I had five imperatives to accomplish each day: household chores, exercise, piano practice, job hunting, and writing. (I tacked writing onto the imperative list as a default, because I always said if I stopped teaching, I’d write again. But I wanted to be able to pay bills, so I looked for a gig where they regularly gave you money. It took a year of unsuccessful job applications till I realized God had given me this time to concentrate on my writing.)

I have a dear friend who does her writing early in the morning, still in her jammies. I know others who write after the rest of the family goes to bed. But for me, I’ve discovered that at this time in my life, my brain puts ideas into words best in the afternoon. That doesn’t mean that I’m not processing ideas and writing notes all day (and night) long. But noon to 4:00 is blocked out as my dedicated writing time.

In the morning I try to to go to the gym or do something active in between the usual domestic chores. And after dinner I try to squeeze in an hour or so of piano practice around washing dishes and watching television with my hubby.

What do you like to do when your brain is most productive? And when is that, exactly? Does anyone else do their best work in the afternoon? Please add your comment below.

Posted in Most productive time of day, Writing | Tagged memoir, Organization, writing | 10 Comments

Married 50 years and Never a Dull Moment by Betty Mason Arthurs

Posted on January 19, 2016 by Betty Mason Arthurs

Married 50 Years and Never a Dull Moment by Betty Mason Arthurs

Yes, we’ve been married 50 years in June. I believe a few words sums up our marriage: Never a dull moment and plenty of dumb ones.

Our wedding vows, “’til death do us part, so help me God,” spoken on a boiling hot June day in Albion, New York in 1966,’ jump started us as two college sweethearts, a music student and nursing major, on a journey of a good and crazy love affair.

I calculated 365 days times 50 years and it comes out 18,250 days but I must add the days of leap year, which adds up to over 438,000 hours, which means we’ve shared 18,250 bedtime snacks and 2600 weeks of Sunday morning church. Gulp, that’s a lot of days to spend together, almost as many as Mr. and Mrs. Noah. Okay, I hear the groans of our eight grandchildren as they correct me with biblical truth. “Gammy, Noah was 600 years old, 219,000 days, when the flood came and after God’s gigantic Niagara Falls, he lived another 350 years. We don’t know how many years they were married.” I can hope Mrs. Noah liked animals and gully washers and grands.

Never a dull moment and plenty of dumb ones in 50 years is best told by how
we celebrated my husband’s early retirement by planning a two week dream trip from Phoenix in 2006 to England and Italy. Only one nasty glitch intruded into our lovely plans. John popped a small hernia two weeks before our departure date when he helped a friend move. “It’s not life threatening, continue on with your trip,” the surgeon reassured us and scheduled the repair as a welcome home event.

Combine a herniated husband with an arthritic wife, who can only carry her teensy purse, you can see the “dumb” lurking behind the “it’s not my fault the suitcase is the size of a refrigerator on wheels.” We were losing some excitement about our holiday across the pond. My poor groin-injured man also managed the briefcase with his laptop, a backpack with CDs, passports, my medications and snacks, tying all on to the rolling suitcase with flopping wheels.

We flew into Manchester and then took the train to the small town of Thirsk, James Herriot country. Fans of the All Creatures Great and Small books written in the 1970s, can imagine the excitement I felt checking into the ancient Three Tuns Hotel just down the street from my favorite author’s home and office. Alfred Wight, Herriot’s real name, started work as a veterinarian in the 1930s. Tomorrow we would tour the Skeldale house at 23 Kirkgate, now a museum.

The quaint hotel had no doorman or elevator so we dragged our luggage past the downstairs pub up the creaky stairs to our third story room. By now, in spite of my aches and pains, I was helping with the “can’t leave home without it” stuff. However, all grouchiness disappeared when we got to our quaint room with its lopsided doorway, cherry wood antique furniture and electric tea pot with assorted English tea bags. John flopped down on the lumpy bed and switched on CNN.

I looked out the window. “Isn’t this beautiful?” Even though John had traveled to England before, he agreed with me, Yorkshire was gorgeous country.

I filled the tea pot with water and plugged it in. Our cozy room had a tiny bathroom with a huge, ancient tub but no shower. I told John, “I haven’t taken a bath in years and I must do as the English do.” I tossed in the lavender salts from a pretty jar and sank into the tub. The hot water soothed my aching muscles and joints. But what do you do to get out of a tub when you’ve got arthritis and you have no railings to grasp and pull yourself out?

I yelled, “Johnny, help me. I can’t get out!” Did I mention, I was blonde as a baby?

He squeezed behind the tub in front of the heat radiator and towel rack, trying to grasp me below my wet armpits and gently pull me without aggravating my arthritic shoulders and his own bulging hernia. The bath salts had coated me in fragrant slime. There was no way he could get a good hold on me so I did my best to help by giggling while he groaned in pain.

I had to wonder what our neighbors thought of those seniors from America whooping it up next door; perhaps Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks are here and they’ve got more on their minds than mail? Or maybe Lucy and Ricky Ricardo are having a Cuban tryst? Today in 2016, the hotel guests might think Lady Mary from Downton Abbey is behaving badly.

Amid the noise of my splashes, slippery squeaks and giggles, my frustrated hernia-plagued hero wrapped a towel around me and finally hefted me up and out. He wobbled out holding his side and collapsed on the bed.

We did wonder at breakfast if the staff and proper patrons were smirking at us, but maybe we were just being overly sensitive. I won’t mention what happened in London or the fall I took in Milan, Italy which aggravated John’s hernia up to ten on the trickster scale since he was holding my hand and saved me.

What can I say? Mishaps fit in with “never a dull moment and plenty of dumb ones” for our 50 years together, while loving God and each other “through sickness and health, tears and laughter.” We’re the best traveling companions if it’s only to the grocery store for crackers and prune juice, so help me God!