L'eggo that Eggo, lady!!

My first awareness came when I rounded the corner in the freezer department of Publix.  There was an annoying fellow talking loudly on his cell phone so I didn’t catch it at first.  My bad angel, Marcella, wanted to accidentally on purpose run my buggy up his heels.  Thankfully, I seized control of the moment.  And then what I saw took my breath away.

The freezer case was empty!  My mind flashed back to photos of Soviet era grocery stores.  Oh my! What’s going on?  Was the tomato sauce shelf full?  What about the Salt and Vinegar Kettle Crunch Tater Chips?

Get a hold of yourself, Theresa!

There were fluorescent signs plastered over the doors.  It said,

Due to a manufacturing glitch, Eggo Waffles are not available at this time.  We will supply you with them once again as soon as this crisis has passed.  You may ACTUALLY have to remember how to cook waffles now; GET A LIFE, EH?!  Bwaaaa-haa-haa-haa.

Okay, that’s not exactly what it said.  But close enough.

Egads.  First Oprah’s announcing the end of her show and now this.  How much can the human spirit endure?

When I got home my journalist’s instinct kicked in; I just knew I had to get to the bottom of this!  And I found this disturbing report from CBS news.

The report, “Kellogg Warns of Eggo Waffle Shortage,” states that two of their four plants had their production interrupted by events that mandate repairs, “for an undisclosed amount of time.”

Sends a chill down your spine. doesn’t it?  Will their be Apocalyptic/Mad Max sort of fights break out around our nation’s freezer cases with women assaulting one another with their Gucci bags screaming, “L’EGGO MY EGGO?” as the shortages increase?

Will the local police department need to establish a “Eggo Task Force” to keep masses from rioting in the streets?

This is indeed very disturbing.  But thankfully, the report did state that according to a source from Kellogg’s that,  “We are working around the clock to restore Eggo store inventories to normal levels as quickly as possible.”

I don’t know about you but this mom’s going to sleep better tonight.

And in the meanwhile, if the Eggo shortage has your kiddies in an uproar, fear not.  One resourceful person has made their stock of Eggo’s available to the highest bidder.

Let us all pray this horrible situation ends before Oprah does.

I can’t exactly file this one under “Snapshots Across America” (a feature I occasionally write about some of the wonderful people I meet in my journey,) because I’ve not “officially” met this person.  (Hence, my “imaginary friend.”) Nor is she even in America.  But yet, she has inspired me through her blog and the acquaintance I’ve enjoyed the past couple of weeks via email.

Meet my new friend Sheri; I think you can figure out which one she is.

Meet Sheri.  She is a registered nurse living and working in Guatemala with Health Talents International.

HTI is a non-profit Christian organization that provides medical services with the hope of sharing the Gospel with the poor in Guatemala.  We first learned of it through our dentist; he has taken a few trips down there to work in dental clinics.

As I researched this outfit I found Sheri’s blog and was captivated by her narrative as well as the stunning photography of the people and places.  She’s doing the “stuff” I had pictured myself doing years ago back in my single days.

So I’ve been living vicariously through her narratives on volcano climbing, health clinics, language school and Diet Coke shortages (perish the thought!)

What struck me the most though about this amazing woman is her zest for living.  She had, what I am sure was, a lucrative career in ICU/CCU nursing and later management.  But little did she know that after after the completion of her Master’s Degree her life and career was going to change dramatically.   She took her first trip to Guatemala in June, 2005.  And again in July.  And again in November.  Gee, do you think she liked it?

When she would return from the trips, people would comment about the positive change they had seen in her.  She says, “I had found something that fueled me and I could use many things or talents all at the same time and for the same purpose….unbelievable.”

After November she did what is unthinkable for most people: She quit her full time job so she could have schedule flexibility and work as a float.  (Ie, nursing assignments on a short term or immediate basis.)

By the end of 2006, she had spent half of her time in Guatemala.  She inquired about a longer term commitment and was asked, “When are you moving down?”

“I sold everything and came down,” she told me.

Ya gotta love it.  This woman is living her life with passion and vision; something few can say they’re doing because the cost can be so great.

She says the nursing is quite a bit different…less technology and more, as she describes, “real nursing.”  She had toyed with pursuing her Nurse Practitioner’s certification but says the docs there are teaching her what she needs to know;  besides, some of the training for it would not be as relevant for what she’s doing there.

Having the privilege of knowing Shari, if even through email at this point in time, inspires me and reminds me of one of my all time favorite quotes:

“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” – Howard Thurman

PS  How about popping over to Shari’s blog and leaving her a comment?  How encouraging would that be to a fellow American living abroad?  It’ll only take a moment to encourage this gal who spends most of her day pouring out to others.  And BTW- you may find her blog in my sidebar for future visits.

I nearly spat my coffee out watching this little ditty.  You’ve heard of “Hot Yoga,” “Aerial Yoga” and now, I present to you…uh, uh…how about “Creepy Yoga?”

Remember boys and girls…Breathe! Breathe!  (Note the one kid…I swear he looks like he’s stoned.  Not that I’ve, uh, ever seen anyone stoned before…)

When I headed into the YMCA the other day I was ambushed by a ninja looking chick.  She was dressed in black from head to toe and had a blond pony tail pulled through her cap and looked incredibly firm and agile.

“Would you like to try a boot camp demo?” she asked.  Behind her, I saw there was another similarly dressed man (minus the pony tail) doing arm curls with a VW Bug.  He was barking at a well-nourished middle-aged woman who had collapsed on the pavement and was sobbing.  “Gimme FIFTEEN more push ups lady!  You didn’t think I was paying attention, did you?!”

A couple of college kids, who also looked very firm, were huffing and puffing around what looked to be a trebouchet and I was wondering if they were getting ready to launch off somewhere.

I regarded Miss Pony Tail and adjusted my Wal Mart bag which contained my swimsuit.  And a baby Snickers. Lap swimming can be exhausting.   I said,  “How about the ‘camp’ part?  Can I just do that?”

“You should give it a try!” she offered.  Her pony tail swung when she spoke.  I hate that.

I replied, “When you have a ’slipper’ camp….gimme a call.  Until then, I’ll just stick with my laps, thanks.”

She tossed her pony tail back and hopped over to a yoga-mat-toting potential victim participant.

My days of boot camp, step aerobics, “power pump” and long distance running have been over for some time.

I had a friend recently invite me to a “Zumba” class (“Zumba”- from the ancient Mayan language which, as best as linguists can tell, means…”Can’t get out of bed in the morning.”)

I was actually considering attending, when, I swear I’m not making this up, her daughter sent me a chilling warning.  “Don’t go Theresa!  My sister went and it made her cry!”

This is a conundrum for me.  I love exercise….love being in shape.  But my range of choices keep shrinking with each year that passes.

Which is why I’m excited to announce a new workout routine that’s bound to bring new hope and health to the physically unfit. I’m calling it, “The Mother Lode’s Kick Butt Workout”…so called because you’ll kick yourself in the butt for not trying this sooner.

Daniel will be my technical director and then… watch out You Tube!  I’ll keep you posted on this exciting new development.

In the meanwhile,  if you’re heading to the Y anytime soon, I’d approach that building very carefully if I were you.

Or does ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons in his appearance on the CMA Awards last night remind you of anybody?  Well, here…you look:

Just sayin’….

We had fun watching the CMA awards last night.  Though I will admit that after  number 57, I quit counting Carrie Underwood’s dress changes.

It was delightful to see the humble Taylor Swift take home the goods.

It was great to see Lady Antebellum get an award too.  (Little known fact: Lady Antebellum had considered calling themselves “Lady CEREbellum” [meaning from Dictionary.com: a large portion of the brain, consisting of two lateral lobes and a central lobe,] but their marketing dude shot down the idea (“too brainy”) and insisted on Lady Antebellum, which means literally, Before the Bellum, a reference to a small, little-known battle that took place in Bellum, TN,  during the Civil War while the much more famous Battle of Franklin was raging.)

Jay’s theory was shot to pieces last night.  He’s long contended that Keith Urban and Nicole Kidman are actually THE SAME PERSON since they are often seen separately.  Well.  There they were side by side last night.

Or where they?????  Again….just sayin’….

Be very afraid!

This one can be filed under, “Yes You Too May Have a Label.”

“People might think it is a bit of a laughable affliction…but the actual sight of them fills me with dread and I could never touch them,” Vicki Larrieux, 22, a British student.

What, pray tell, terrorizes this young Brit?  (Here’s the article.)

If you guessed assault rifles, a petri dish with Ebola cultures or hissing cockroaches you would be wrong.

Larrieux is terrified of vegetables and suffers from “lachanophobia” which dictionary.com defines as:

Well, there is no definition to be found there.  Must be a pretty new phobia.

I did find a few spurious websites however that offers hope and help for this malady.

One site sells a “Home Study Program” ($135) or the VIP (“Very Important Vegetable”) package for One on One assistance from a Board certified Specialist (AKA “a gardener”) for only $2,497.

Living a life at peas (har) with vegetables is not cheap evidently.  Fear is a very big industry!

I considered a few of my fears over the years:

• Middle aged men in Speedos
• That “special” talk in 5^th grade
• The Kohls’ dressing room
• Breaking down on the highway and having an axe-murderer stop to assist Or—having that axe-murderer surprising me just as I’m sudsing up my hair in the shower.
• Breaking wind in a windowless room among friends

The world is indeed a very scary place.

I wonder what the therapy will be like for this woman.  Will it be confrontational and cathartic whereby they strap her to a table and wave carrots and bean sprouts under her nose?

Will she be force to watch Veggie Tales videos repeatedly until she can smile and nod maniacally along with the lyrics to their theme song:

If you like to talk to tomatoes,
If a squash can make you smile,
If you like to waltz with potatoes,
Up and down the produce aisle…

I hope she comes to terms with her affliction.

One the other hand, perhaps the military should look to spreading this fear.  Think of the possibilities!   Instead of expensive weaponry in modern warfare, we can simply fling collard greens and brussel sprouts at one another.  Police could be armed with garden produce, (“Put your hands where I can see them sir, I have a carrot.”) and unruly children would be a thing of the past (“Don’t make me use the green beans on you!”)

One can dream anyway.

I know for me, the older I get the more at peace I am with my issues and have learned to live a full and satisfying life in spite of them.  For the most part anyway.  Speedos still really frighten me.

As I was paddling around at the foot of Angel Falls this morning,  (I confessed on Facebook that when I’m swimming laps, I imagine I’m in South America but don’t tell anyone,) I was concentrating on my stroke.  Keep your head low….watch your stroke….

And I remembered Scott.  Scott was a tri-athlete that used to work at our old sports club back in Montana.  He was the pool maintenance man so we saw him regularly.  When I asked him for a few pointers on lap swimming, he happily did so.

But what really endeared Scott to my heart was his willingness to indulge Daniel’s curiosity with the inner workings of the pool pump.  At the time, Daniel was about five-years-old.

You might say that Scott was one of Daniel’s first teachers.  Since that time, Daniel has been taught by a number of amazing plumbers, phone repairmen, antiques dealers, a phone expert….and an old guy who smokes way too many cigarettes.  Electricians, banjo pickers, retired school teachers and most endearing, his 80-something-years-old Great Gramma.  (Daniel chats with her on the phone almost every night.)

(Wouldn’t you love the benefit of drawing from the wisdom and experience of a Godly, loving woman who’s been around for over eighty years?)

I have learned from my boy that everyone you meet is a potential teacher.  From the clerk at Wal Mart who has found a place of grace to live in in spite of the murder of his wife and children a few years ago….to my friends who’ve loved me at my worst.  Or the bookkeeper that helped me with my first “real” job….or Scott. (I gave up on the kick turn a long time ago, Scott.)

I think one of the biggest casualties of institutionalized education or religion is it marginalizes the teacher resident in each and every human.  Parents feel they’re not “qualified” to teach their own children.  And believers who feel the pastor is the only one qualified to counsel them. (Good Lord, no wonder preachers get so burned out.)

This is such a losing proposition.  We are wired to give and when we are withholding our life’s knowledge, experience and training in deference  for one whom the Matrix has deemed “qualified,” everyone loses.

A wonderful thing happens when you begin to see the teacher resident in everyone.  You see opportunity around every corner.  And your respect and appreciation for people will go up.  (Not to mention the other way around. How does it make you feel when someone asks for your advice on a matter?)

When I look at the young man Daniel is turning into I am astounded at the teachers God has brought to him.

And then I shudder thinking of what could have happened had I followed that pediatrician’s advice to “Get this child on medication and into a classroom as soon as possible.”

When Daniel is not being tutored by one of these amazing people he spends hours learning.  I’d tell you what he’s up to but truth be told, I haven’t a clue because it’s all over my head.

Now that you’ve met a few of Daniel’s teachers, here’s a picture of his current classroom:

I don't think *this* is what that pediatrican had in mind, do you?

Fun! Fun! Fun!

I was thinking about this the other day when we attended a community event sponsored in large part by a local mega church.  As I was walking around the bouncy things for the kids and navigating around people holding balloons that said, “Fun! Fun! Fun!” I had “What? What? What?” ringing through my head.

Here in the Bible belt the ingenuity to “reach the lost” never ceases to amaze.  Now don’t go thinking I”m not attacking these well-intended people; that’s not my heart.

Jesus was irrelevant on so many levels.  Take up your cross.  Love your rotten neighbor with the obnoxious teenager who guns his car.  Be nice to the jerk at Wal Mart.  And the one that makes my flesh crawl: Deny yourself.  Love your life and you’re going to lose it, Buster!

Somehow, I don’t think “Die! Die! Die!” balloons would be a good marketing move though.

How did what Jesus modeled and lived morphed into what we call the Gospel in the Western world?  Balloons? Circus Animals?  Rides for the kiddies?

Okay…so I get the idea behind this.  Lure them into a service so they can hear the Gospel.  Harness their over burdened schedules with meetings.  Guilt them into tithing for the new building wing even though they’re buried in debt and their marriage is on the breaking point because of it.

But by golly….we’re going to make disciples!  The Kingdom is a lot of work!

And according to the numbers, we wonder why people are leaving, nay, fleeing organized religion.  They know something’s not right but they can’t quite put a finger on it.  All they know is they’re tired….they’ve done the stuff….and they’re still broke, worried and harassed by life.

I sure don’t have all the answers but from my little corner I think it comes back to this quest to be relevant thing.  Jesus didn’t invite us to change our behavior or to try to make a message that was irrelevant to the masses relevant.  It isn’t about loving your neighbor or one upping your buddy so you can feel validated….He invited us into a relationship.

But because we’re so busy doing all this stuff…making disciples…attending meetings…passing out balloons….we forget that it all comes back to HIM.

If we don’t have time to sit at his feet and to learn of his love and allow it to transform our lives we’re going to continue on the same ole cow paths.

Everything Jesus did/say pointed to the Father.  His magnificent love for us and an invitation to enter into a relationship whereby we are transformed.  And then that love your neighbor stuff actually becomes a joy not another “to do” on the discipleship check list.

I certainly haven’t arrived at this but the little tastes of it I get on the way are indeed compelling.

Until we are willing to live loved and love others as we ourselves have been loved….well,  better stock up on those balloons. 

….goes “uuuuuummmmmmmmmm” and flies?  (I’ll just be waiting right over here, kay?)

Give up?

Aerial Yoga!

I stumbled onto this disturbing trend the other day when I was reading a local magazine entitled Me! Me! Me!

It’s a magazine devoted to narcissistic women, women of means.  This is evident by the advertisers, one of whom, I swear I’m not making this up, is a BOARD CERTIFIED EYE LID Surgeon.  (Buy one lid, get one free!)

But I digress.  I guess for those who aren’t interested in “Hot Yoga” (Yoga performed in a room hot enough to roast pumpkin seeds,) Aerial Yoga is for those seeking to bring their Yoga experience to the next level.  (Har-dee-har-har.)

My curiosity got the better of me so I did a little research.  “Unnata Yoga” (“Unnata” is Sanskrit for “unnatural,”) incorporates traditional yoga with the exhilaration of swinging from fabric bands. Think, flying pretzels:

Not my idea of "hanging out" with friends.

Truly this can’t be healthy.  And I hope to heaven that if a person ever finds me in a predicament like this…

….they will have the good sense to dial 9-1-1.  And quick!  (And then get me a cup of coffee.)

Yeah, yeah.  I know. Yoga moves can make a body more flexible.  And flexibility is something I take very seriously at my advancing age.  (Thankfully, I’ve discovered  the margarita-and-a-hot-tub move.)  It’s much easier on the joints and I don’t have to carry around a mat.  And trust me, the world is not ready to see this body in yoga pants.

Truth be told, those photos conjured up other, more disturbing, images in my head:

If you read this medical thriller by Robin Cook, you’ll recall the plot:

Patient goes in for an innocuous surgery and is sedated to never to wake again so their organs can be harvested for the black market.  (Cue to malevolent music.)

I wonder if some of them were having their eyelids done…..

This man, yes, THIS man was emailing ME!

Imagine my shock when I saw an email from Darren Hardy, editor of Success Magazine in my inbox.  This can only be good news. Success Magazine is one of my favorite reads; it’s bursting with encouragement and helpful teachings from some of the leading Zig Ziglar’s of the world.

But back to the email.  I’ve once again started trolling around  for paying magazine gigs.  And since the editorial calendar is usually several months ahead of time, one loses track of what’s submitted when it comes to articles…or simple article proposals.

So in a nano-second this is what runs through my head:

OMG.  SUCCESS MAGAZINE.  DARREN HARDY.  I wonder if I should get a new headshot?  Press release kit?  How many magazines should I ask for.  Oh!  The years of writing!  I’ve struck gold!  Woooo-hooooooo!  Or perhaps he discovered my witty repartee on Facebook and wanted to offer me a column.  Perhaps…..

Then the next nano second came.  And the party ended.  Marcella, my bad, annoying angel spoke up:

Uh.  You knuckle head.  You didn’t submit squat to Success Magazine.  Back off on the coffee woman.

Whoa Betsy!  I pushed back my coffee cup.  It does make me a little excitable.

It occurred to me then that perhaps I should OPEN the email.  Yes!  Open it. And I did.

Ahem.  Well, it’s not quite a column offer.  But he DID like a comment I left on Facebook regarding a darn-good piece on Edison.

This justified a miniature snoopy dance, I thought.  Not the whole enchilada…maybe just a little foot shuffle.

So now ladies and gentlemen, in January’s issue of Success, Yours Truly will be on the Letter’s to the Editor page with this brilliant comment:

Takes your breath away doesn’t it? Not quite enough for a publishing credit but hey, despise not small beginnings, eh?

And Mr. Hardy, if you’re reading this,  I’m ready any time you are for that column.