Karma. Again.

samsara (n.): the indefinitely repeated cycles of birth, misery, and death caused by karma

Do you ever feel like something is about to happen?

Death by Drapery

a dramedy

dramedy (n): a situation comedy having dramatic scenes

Honestly, that sums-up my experience with redressing the windows over here. I feel like I'm being smothered in different fabrics and textures. If anyone arrives at the sister meeting wrapped in voile, fringe, Dupioni silk, and/or velvet, it is I--or my ghost.

Crazy Breakfast Facts

After recently viewing part of Dateline on NBC Friday night, I was intrigued about marketing and advertising of not-so-healthy foods to children. Inspired by this, I decided to take a peek in my own pantry. Did you know that a one-cup serving of Cookie Crisp (my husband's cereal) and a three-quarter cup serving of Special K Cereal with Yogurt Clusters (my cereal) are the same calorie-wise? And a serving of Special K Vanilla Almond has more calories than Cookie Crisp? Special K has a higher percentage of vitamins and minerals, but if I'm already eating a bunch of other healthy food and taking vitamins, does it matter? Makes me wonder just how good Cookie Crisp tastes...and if the marketing ploys aren't geared towards making adults fat!

Arcanum

(n, pl arcana): mysterious knowledge

Watch out girls, I've been reviewing the info Martha gave me on palmistry!

Guess what?

It's your birthday!

http://www.thisdayinmusic.com/member/birthdayno1.php

Grounds For Divorce

Advice for my unmarried sisters.

Get a pre-nup. Make sure you demand full disclosure of music preferences so that you can avoid the shock and horror of any sudden and inexplicable genres blasting from iTunes when you walk in the door after ten years of marriage...so that when your spouse suddenly decides to Walk The Line, he knows he'll end up in a real burnin' Ring of Fire when you find out.

Just thought I'd save you from one more of those little things that people don't think of when considering marriage.

Hunger

The Silent Sin in America

I have been thinking about this for over a week. It started after the trip to the River House (more about that soon). I had an idea for a story that was unusual, so, of course, I put it off to the side. The thing is though, just a few days later, the idea was thrown before me again in a most unexpected way--at church. The readings and the Gospel were about hunger and nourishment, the very ideas that had just teased my brain a few days earlier. But these are tricky topics to discuss for many reasons.

For some reason, it seems to be a sin to admit to actual hunger in this day and age; and for those who have no food on the table, a cloud of shame keeps them quiet. I have known people who have made up stories for needing money for other reasons in order to put food in a child's stomach. Yet others won't even do that to feed a nine year old. Which is the greater wrong? The lie? or the silence?

In a land where you can walk down the street and see so many things on so many faces--the yearning for the past and the longing for the future; the pining for fame and the wish for quiet; the languishing for love and the starving for success--you see the masses look away when it comes to the real deal. Why does Society still believe that all they have to do is click their heels together three times and they'll end up with manna from heaven in their own backyards?

Mind. Body. Spirit.

We may ache for more, but don't forget the ones who just ache.


edacious (adj): extremely hungry

What Can I Dew For You?

You better tell me soon, before I crash.

I have consumed the equivalent of a six pack of Mountain Dew today. Yes, I see the time. I started at 7:19 AM. But, really, my house could kick ass right about now. I moved an entire room's worth of furniture and put all of our books back on the bookcases. Even the one I bought to replace the one that one of you sisters stole. I also vacuumed my neighbor's living room. I'm not kidding. I was vacuuming here anyway. I figure I've got another two hours of energy left before my body realizes I haven't done anything this crazy in about five years (Baking snowmen cookies at 2 in the morning for a birthday party. Do you remember the snowman birthday party? I love parties with themes. Did I tell you I had a Mulan party for my last birthday? I did. It was fun. Especially with a spouse who says, "Sure. Any reason to decorate the house like China is fine with me." He talked about China with his boss and co-workers on a five hour road-trip last month. He always talks about China.)

Did I just ramble?

Somebody's Hero

My name is Martha and I am a Super Hero.

My sisters are already aware of this. I am Super Marfa. It’s a long-running joke, I know, but today I finally realized that I really am somebody’s hero.

I am my daughter’s hero.

Faster than a speeding bullet, I make it to her side to rescue her from a tumble that could result in a boo-boo. On the rare occasions when I don’t catch her—usually due to a Kryptonite-infested toy that trips me up on my path to her—I utilize my magical powers to heal her. I possess an instant, pain-relieving serum that courses from me through my lips in the form of obnoxious kisses that smother away the pain of the ouchie.

With a wave of my silver wand and a sprinkling of green fairy dust—okay, it’s a needle and thread—I can repair the head wound (it’s really a chewed-open hole) on her favorite stuffed turtle, affectionately named, you guessed it, Mr. Turtle.

I can quickly and painlessly dispense drops into my Little Pumpkin’s eyes to rid her of a nasty case of conjunctivitis.

With a flick of my fingers (and my handy-dandy crock pot), I turn out fantastic, healthy meals.

My Super Hero training enables me to sing like Elmo, bounce like Tigger, and patiently read “Let’s Go to Church,” “Are You My Mother,” and “Name that Shape” eleventeen million times—all without a moment’s hesitation or a whisper of complaint.

I do all this and more. And yet, I know there are many Super Heroes like me in this world.

I am a hero. I am a mommy.