Social media reminded me yesterday morning, just five short years ago I was standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon. What a transforming trip. What a wonderful memory. At the time, I had no idea how much that trip was preparing me for my future.
Five years ago, I was alone in my travels. I called it my walkabout, and it was. I was forced to only think of myself for twelve days. What did I want to do each day? What did I want to see? Where did I want to go? What did I want to eat? So many years of being a caregiver, maid, cook, chauffeur, etc needed to be set aside for once. Being a wife and a mother were the only roles I really knew. I had truly forgotten who I was at my core. I was forced to be silent. No conversations. No one else to think about. I needed to learn to be okay with the quiet. When one is alone, to whom do they have to talk? I ended up listening to others...eavesdropping. I observed people. I watched interactions. I started to hear something that I hadn't heard before. It was my inner voice starting to talk.
Today, when I look in the mirror, I don't see that same person who traveled alone five years ago. I have changed. Layers of my soul have peeled away. I have become a much better version of myself. I have been upgraded, so to speak. I feel I have always been a confident person, but the past few years have made me even more so. It is still hard to enter some places all alone in my home town. Shopping alone is easy, but a simple thing like dining out is more of a challenge. Who wants to go out to eat all by herself? I certainly won't go for a drink alone either!
This person who is me now...I like her. I am independent and happier. I feel more secure in who I am, in what I'll accept, and in what I like. I speak my mind, and care less about other's opinions. Concerning me, I mean. I still like to hear others opinions on life, and have deep conversations!
I am grateful for the growth I have experienced.
I am ready for my next adventure.
I think it's about time I start planning that next Grand Memory.
~Lisa Kroll
still spreading love, understanding, positivity
Showing posts with label Thankfulness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thankfulness. Show all posts
Sunday, July 01, 2018
Monday, May 28, 2018
Wrapping up the School Year...
“Charlotte,” said Wilbur. “We’re all going home today. The Fair is almost over. Won’t it be wonderful to be back home in the barn cellar again with the sheep and the geese? Aren’t you anxious to get home?”
For a moment Charlotte said nothing. Then she spoke in a voice so low Wilbur could hardly hear the words.
“I will not be going back to the barn,” she said. Wilbur leapt to his feet. “Not going back?” he cried. “Charlotte, what are you talking about?”
~from Charlotte's Web, by E.B.White
Until I became a teacher, I didn't understand what the end of a school year and summer break truly meant.
As a parent, the end of a school year means, time to find help with watching your kids, or finding ways to keep the kiddos occupied for eight to ten weeks. Family vacations or other travel plans are typically carried out. Summer reading program schedules are accessed, and put on the calendar. Swim, or soccer lessons fill time, as well as league games, and hitting a swimming pool. Playdates, and overnight stays become a daily thing. The first few weeks of summer break are welcomed by all.
I recall falling into the summer routine with my own children. Sleeping in and playing with Legos or crafting. My kids LOVED being on break, and I loved having them home, until the boredom set in, which happened quicker than I always liked. Yikes, being a parent over summer has it's challenges! As a parent of two, at times it seemed I could not get them to agree on ANYTHING. Nor could I get them to do what I wanted them to do without yelling or getting angry. Where were the teachers now?! How did they do it, day after day with my two - both who were good kids I might add???
The end of the school year is filled with emotions. Yes, this group of students came to me in August, but my year started before they arrived. Weeks before school starts, I have to get my room ready for the year. Items that were packed away need to resurface and find their home again. There are curriculum manuals to read, papers to copy, homework folders to set up, thirty-six weeks of lessons to generally spread out, to just name a few things that fill a teacher's time. In fact, as soon as school ends in May, I will attend professional development seminars, so assuming teachers have the summer off is truly wishful thinking. Most teachers go to classes to help further their knowledge over the summer. We attend technology, reading, writing, social studies, math, science, and classroom management seminars. THIS is how we fill our summers. We become students during our two month break. Some of us also teach summer camps, so we spend time preparing and teaching, as well.
By the time "Meet the Teacher" happens the day before school, most teachers have all ready been working for two weeks in their classroom. It's true, teachers do love school. We are so excited for the new year to start! In first grade, there are brand new, sharp crayons that still have their paper wraps neatly around them. There are long, pointy, number two pencils whose erasers have yet to be pulled out and whose ends haven't been chewed on. There are chunky erasers waiting to be shredded by scissors. There are perfect folders and composition notebooks that teachers neatly have written student's names upon. Name plates with student numbers on them have been carefully taped onto the student desks. All their edges are smoothly stuck down to the desk tops and ready to be picked at by all the little picker's fingers.
In August, students and teacher come together, and a new community is born. Rules must be established and enforced. How to line up, walk in a line, sit at ones desk, play on the playground equipment, use the bathroom, get to the library, the specials rooms, and cafeteria are taught over and over. Where to sit in the cafeteria and what manners there look like are explicitly shown. Expectations are set for all aspects of the day and strived towards. Letter formation, spelling, number sense and learning to read are the curriculum that start a first grade school year.
Fall break is not really a break for teachers. Grades and comments are due on report cards just after break. There is also other data that is collected on students skill abilities. This information must be added to a grade level data chart. Teachers spend their days teaching, and it's nigh impossible to sit down to input information. So our break is filled with inputting data and getting ready for term two.
When October arrives, a teacher has parent/teacher conferences to host after the first report card has been sent home. These conferences give us a chance to connect with parents after we've had a little time to find out our student's strengths and areas of concerns. We are happy to share positives with parents and offer ways to help their child be the best student they can be.
By Thanksgiving, we know our class very well. We know who needs extra TLC, who needs pushed, who needs watched so they aren't falling through the cracks and who has it all together. When winter break arrives, we finally have a few days we can turn our brains off from school, but the holidays quickly fill the school void.
The winter months of the new year find the class running smoothly as a community. Light bulbs seem to click on as students suddenly "get" what is being taught. It's a rewarding time to be a teacher. One's efforts can be seen paying off.
By the time spring break hits, the end of the year is now in sight. Teachers panic a bit...can they get through everything they need to get through? Students start acting more like siblings. They pick on and tease one another. They are much more comfortable and they speak their minds. Class rules and expectations need to be revisited. Students rat out each other's poor choices, ones made while away from the teacher, without blinking an eye. Even best buddies do this to one another! That is, unless they were making poor choices together...like using the bathroom as a parkour training room. Then, students from other classes rat them out! The first grade beast is both funny and fun to watch.
May arrives, and the finish line approaches. One hundred and eighty school days completed draws near. Charlotte's Web is the last read aloud. Tears stream down teacher's cheeks and his or her voice may crack as these words are read...
"But as he was being shoved into the crate, he looked up at Charlotte and gave her a wink. She knew he was saying good-bye in the only way he could. And she knew her children were safe.
“Good-bye!” she whispered. Then she summoned all her strength and waved one of her front legs at him.
She never moved again. Next day, as the Ferris wheel was being taken apart and the race horses were being loaded into vans and the entertainers were packing up their belongings and driving away in their trailers, Charlotte died. The Fair Grounds were soon forlorn. The infield was littered with bottles and trash. Nobody, of the hundreds of people what had visited the Fair, knew that a grey spider had played the most important part of all. No one was with her when she died."
Tomorrow, I will say goodbye to my students. They are ready to move on, even though I am not yet ready for a new groups of kiddos. I will have the summer to let this group go in my brain. My students have had a great year, and I am happy they have been in my life and classroom. They will always be my kids. That's how a teacher's heart works.
The day after tomorrow, I will clean out files, take down things hanging on the walls, and clear off shelf tops. I will be in my classroom, all alone. My heart will ache a little at the end of the day when I turn off the light and pull the door closed.
I will wake on Thursday and I will not head into school to see my students. I will not start each day seeing and greeting my friends. When I decided to teach, I hadn't expected the bond I form with other teachers to be as deep as it is. I adore all the people at my school. It truly is an extended family. I will fall into my own summer routine. I am looking forward to nuzzling my kitties randomly through the day, and hiking with Toby.
When August rolls around...
I'll be ready for my next class full of kiddos. More importantly, I'll be ready to be back home, in my barn cellar, alongside all my friends.
~Lisa Kroll
For a moment Charlotte said nothing. Then she spoke in a voice so low Wilbur could hardly hear the words.
“I will not be going back to the barn,” she said. Wilbur leapt to his feet. “Not going back?” he cried. “Charlotte, what are you talking about?”
~from Charlotte's Web, by E.B.White
*****
Until I became a teacher, I didn't understand what the end of a school year and summer break truly meant.
As a parent, the end of a school year means, time to find help with watching your kids, or finding ways to keep the kiddos occupied for eight to ten weeks. Family vacations or other travel plans are typically carried out. Summer reading program schedules are accessed, and put on the calendar. Swim, or soccer lessons fill time, as well as league games, and hitting a swimming pool. Playdates, and overnight stays become a daily thing. The first few weeks of summer break are welcomed by all.
I recall falling into the summer routine with my own children. Sleeping in and playing with Legos or crafting. My kids LOVED being on break, and I loved having them home, until the boredom set in, which happened quicker than I always liked. Yikes, being a parent over summer has it's challenges! As a parent of two, at times it seemed I could not get them to agree on ANYTHING. Nor could I get them to do what I wanted them to do without yelling or getting angry. Where were the teachers now?! How did they do it, day after day with my two - both who were good kids I might add???
The end of the school year is filled with emotions. Yes, this group of students came to me in August, but my year started before they arrived. Weeks before school starts, I have to get my room ready for the year. Items that were packed away need to resurface and find their home again. There are curriculum manuals to read, papers to copy, homework folders to set up, thirty-six weeks of lessons to generally spread out, to just name a few things that fill a teacher's time. In fact, as soon as school ends in May, I will attend professional development seminars, so assuming teachers have the summer off is truly wishful thinking. Most teachers go to classes to help further their knowledge over the summer. We attend technology, reading, writing, social studies, math, science, and classroom management seminars. THIS is how we fill our summers. We become students during our two month break. Some of us also teach summer camps, so we spend time preparing and teaching, as well.
By the time "Meet the Teacher" happens the day before school, most teachers have all ready been working for two weeks in their classroom. It's true, teachers do love school. We are so excited for the new year to start! In first grade, there are brand new, sharp crayons that still have their paper wraps neatly around them. There are long, pointy, number two pencils whose erasers have yet to be pulled out and whose ends haven't been chewed on. There are chunky erasers waiting to be shredded by scissors. There are perfect folders and composition notebooks that teachers neatly have written student's names upon. Name plates with student numbers on them have been carefully taped onto the student desks. All their edges are smoothly stuck down to the desk tops and ready to be picked at by all the little picker's fingers.
In August, students and teacher come together, and a new community is born. Rules must be established and enforced. How to line up, walk in a line, sit at ones desk, play on the playground equipment, use the bathroom, get to the library, the specials rooms, and cafeteria are taught over and over. Where to sit in the cafeteria and what manners there look like are explicitly shown. Expectations are set for all aspects of the day and strived towards. Letter formation, spelling, number sense and learning to read are the curriculum that start a first grade school year.
Fall break is not really a break for teachers. Grades and comments are due on report cards just after break. There is also other data that is collected on students skill abilities. This information must be added to a grade level data chart. Teachers spend their days teaching, and it's nigh impossible to sit down to input information. So our break is filled with inputting data and getting ready for term two.
When October arrives, a teacher has parent/teacher conferences to host after the first report card has been sent home. These conferences give us a chance to connect with parents after we've had a little time to find out our student's strengths and areas of concerns. We are happy to share positives with parents and offer ways to help their child be the best student they can be.
By Thanksgiving, we know our class very well. We know who needs extra TLC, who needs pushed, who needs watched so they aren't falling through the cracks and who has it all together. When winter break arrives, we finally have a few days we can turn our brains off from school, but the holidays quickly fill the school void.
The winter months of the new year find the class running smoothly as a community. Light bulbs seem to click on as students suddenly "get" what is being taught. It's a rewarding time to be a teacher. One's efforts can be seen paying off.
By the time spring break hits, the end of the year is now in sight. Teachers panic a bit...can they get through everything they need to get through? Students start acting more like siblings. They pick on and tease one another. They are much more comfortable and they speak their minds. Class rules and expectations need to be revisited. Students rat out each other's poor choices, ones made while away from the teacher, without blinking an eye. Even best buddies do this to one another! That is, unless they were making poor choices together...like using the bathroom as a parkour training room. Then, students from other classes rat them out! The first grade beast is both funny and fun to watch.
May arrives, and the finish line approaches. One hundred and eighty school days completed draws near. Charlotte's Web is the last read aloud. Tears stream down teacher's cheeks and his or her voice may crack as these words are read...
"But as he was being shoved into the crate, he looked up at Charlotte and gave her a wink. She knew he was saying good-bye in the only way he could. And she knew her children were safe.
“Good-bye!” she whispered. Then she summoned all her strength and waved one of her front legs at him.
She never moved again. Next day, as the Ferris wheel was being taken apart and the race horses were being loaded into vans and the entertainers were packing up their belongings and driving away in their trailers, Charlotte died. The Fair Grounds were soon forlorn. The infield was littered with bottles and trash. Nobody, of the hundreds of people what had visited the Fair, knew that a grey spider had played the most important part of all. No one was with her when she died."
Tomorrow, I will say goodbye to my students. They are ready to move on, even though I am not yet ready for a new groups of kiddos. I will have the summer to let this group go in my brain. My students have had a great year, and I am happy they have been in my life and classroom. They will always be my kids. That's how a teacher's heart works.
The day after tomorrow, I will clean out files, take down things hanging on the walls, and clear off shelf tops. I will be in my classroom, all alone. My heart will ache a little at the end of the day when I turn off the light and pull the door closed.
I will wake on Thursday and I will not head into school to see my students. I will not start each day seeing and greeting my friends. When I decided to teach, I hadn't expected the bond I form with other teachers to be as deep as it is. I adore all the people at my school. It truly is an extended family. I will fall into my own summer routine. I am looking forward to nuzzling my kitties randomly through the day, and hiking with Toby.
When August rolls around...
I'll be ready for my next class full of kiddos. More importantly, I'll be ready to be back home, in my barn cellar, alongside all my friends.
~Lisa Kroll
Saturday, May 12, 2018
Words to Build By... Habitat Women Build, Day 7, 2018
I was asked to give the devotion, or words of wisdom, before a Habitat Women Build day.
Here's what I had to say...
-----
Our day, in pictures.
~Lisa Kroll
wonder woman, lower case W's
---------notes---------
Independence: The state or quality of being independent; freedom from dependence; exemption from reliance on, or control by others; self- subsistence or maintenance; direction of one's own affairs without interference.
Habitat for Humanity: Women Build
information and my web page: click here
Here's what I had to say...
"Independence is an amazing gift to receive. But I have found, it an even more amazing gift to see, and be witness to.
'I spend a fair amount of my time each day trying to build community and independence within my classroom. There are skills my students need to learn, and tests that I am required to give, but I know the bottom line is that the group of students whom I am molding at any given time, will, with a little bit of luck, have 11 more years of school together.
'I figure I'm really laying the foundation of their people skills. Learning to work together and solve problems is what life is really all about.
'I like to think of myself a little bit like Wonder Woman. Not as a hero, but as someone who is a little bit mysterious, someone who has a past that has shaped them, someone who is strong, and someone who can accomplish anything when they focus their mind on it. I find that’s how I live my life these days really.
'I am old enough to know, we all experience adversity at some point in our lives. And because of those experiences, we can look at the rainbows and flowers and the butterflies in the world and see their colors a little more deeply. We become more compassionate and understanding. One of life lessons we must learn is to ask for help. And when we do this, not only do we become richer by admitting we are human, but those we ask become richer as well. For in being asked to help someone, we feel valued. And truthfully, isn’t that what we all want is to add value to the world?
'So today, I ask that the powers above, help us to share our mysteries, embrace our pasts, give us the strength we need to focus on and accomplish today’s tasks.
'When we work together, we grow together.
'Thank you all for sharing today with me."
Our day, in pictures.
 |
| May 5, 2018 - 7:30 a.m. Bloomington, Indiana |
 |
| new shirt, old hat and tool belt |
 |
| two houses to roof, my fifth time to build |
 |
| instructions on the roof |
 |
| selfie time! |
 |
| when in Indiana...Indiana Jones time |
 |
| part of our team working on the ground |
 |
| ...and we are off! |
 |
| morning picture of both roofs under way |
 |
| first build, first cut, first time on the roof, strong lady |
 |
| power tools |
 |
| our chef, taking orders |
 |
| team work |
 |
| my work area |
 |
| roof one almost done! |
 |
| my tools, and roof two almost done! |
 |
| 6:00 p.m. |
wonder woman, lower case W's
---------notes---------
Habitat for Humanity: Women Build
information and my web page: click here
Saturday, December 09, 2017
A Successful Online Relationship...
I finally met a guy online.
It was pretty much love at first site!
As with any relationship, there are things we will have to work through. For one, he's younger than I am, and all ready retired. He also has a lot of facial hair, which I like, but he looks to be a brown nose. Gosh, I hope he is!!!
He's currently living in Rochester, MN...with his mom.
His name is Tobias Edward Svenn, but everyone calls him Toby.
I'll be meeting him for the first time in Indy.
He's coming to live with me, and I really can't wait.
Stay tuned for more details.
~Lisa Kroll
love warrior, optimist, adventurer
It was pretty much love at first site!
As with any relationship, there are things we will have to work through. For one, he's younger than I am, and all ready retired. He also has a lot of facial hair, which I like, but he looks to be a brown nose. Gosh, I hope he is!!!
He's currently living in Rochester, MN...with his mom.
His name is Tobias Edward Svenn, but everyone calls him Toby.
I'll be meeting him for the first time in Indy.
He's coming to live with me, and I really can't wait.
Stay tuned for more details.
~Lisa Kroll
love warrior, optimist, adventurer
Sunday, November 19, 2017
Be Kind...and New/Old Traditions
I am thankful, and grateful for my family. This next week starts a time of the year with which in my recent past, I have struggled. As time goes on, I am feeling more excited about the holidays! Still, I am aware that there are triggers in my life. Just 11 years ago on the 22nd, my mom passed away from Brain Cancer; it was also a day on which I was celebrating my 20th wedding anniversary. Daily I think of my mom with joy in my heart, but I was older when she passed, unlike my sister who was still a young adult. My sister was just 26 years old, a few years married and had a one-year old when our mom died. My sister and I talk, and I know she misses our mom a lot. I think about my sister's three children, and all they have missed by their grandma not being around. I do find myself recalling family traditions from my growing up days and I try to share those with my nieces and nephew, as well as with my sister, and my own children. Two years ago it was impossible for me to even think about the holidays. I know that wasn't fair to my own two kids, but emotionally it was just too much for me to handle. As my children grow into young adults, and as I am becoming more distant from my past history, I am finding that I am able to re-invent how WE celebrate the holidays. We are creating our own new, family traditions. We blend traditions from my youth with traditions from my children's life. I am able to choose all those traditions which I have enjoyed. Thanksgiving is now MY holiday. I have claimed it back as a way to help me enjoy life. My sister and her family will come to my house to help continue building our new traditions. I will be in my element as I work in my kitchen to create our feast. We will dine on those traditional recipes that were ours, along with those traditional recipes that my children grew up on. We will play games and laugh. We will play music and dance. We will take pictures and veg-out. We will go to my downtown and be witness to my community coming together to kick-off the Christmas season with the official Canopy of Lights lighting. We will get out my Christmas tree and decorate my house. Just a few years ago I couldn't do this by myself. The life lesson I've taken away here...don't do it alone. Count on others in your life!
Another life lesson, is that we need to be kind to others. We need to be kind not just to those in our community in need, but to our friends, our family, and to ourselves. Heaven knows the holidays are hard, period. Commercialism has made society feel we all need to have the perfect illusion of time spent together: thank you, NOT, Hallmark. But, the holidays are extra hard when one has gone through loss, and everyone knows someone who is dealing with, or has survived loss. One may know loss as death of a loved one or beloved pet, rough spots in a relationship, or divorce. Some people may be dealing with impending loss of life, financial stability, or family members struggling with addiction. When my mom died, it was the day before Thanksgiving in 2006. Thanksgiving and Christmas were surreal that year. Dealing with loss can manifest as depression. Stress compounds feelings, too. As the year is drawing to an end, there are deadlines to complete, mid-year graduations making some wonder what they should be doing next in their life, or stresses in the workplace. Please reach out to your friends and neighbors. Just send hello, or hey, how are you doing? My personal experience has been to hunker down in my house and to wallow in my own sadness instead of reaching out to others. There were times when it was hard to adult, especially when others seem to have it all together and be so happy. Illusion is a powerful weapon. I am happier now, but I do still watch those around me and judge myself against the illusions I see.
Be kind.
Don't feel you have to do something just because it's always been done a certain way. There is joy and power in re-inventing happiness.
Happy Thanksgiving my friends!
~Lisa Kroll
love warrior, sister, friend, etc.
Sunday, October 08, 2017
The Universe...and The Law of Attraction
The Law of Attraction is the ability to attract into our lives, whatever we are focusing on. Simply put, whatever you are thinking about, is drawn towards you. I have believed this to be true for a lot longer than I realized. I also believe that our Universe works in mysterious ways. I have always felt that positivity is at the root of my soul, and have been told I am an optimistic person. I would agree, I am. I believe that when you do good things in the world, good will come to you. Some might call this Karma.
I have been struggling with my religious beliefs since February. I am still currently on sabbatical from the Catholic church. I am a spiritual being, but haven't been able to practice organized religion since listening to a sermon where I felt unwelcome because I am divorced.* The Universe gives us what we need though, when we need it.
My city has a talented community of artisans. Supporting the arts and our artisans, on the first Friday of each month, downtown Bloomington hosts a Gallery Walk. Nine galleries, all within walking distance of one another, offer appetizers and beverages of some type, and stay open from 5-8 pm. I haven't attended as frequently as I'd like, but this past Friday, one of my artist friends had a painting that would be on display. I made plans to be at the gallery displaying her work when I knew she would also be there. We snacked and admired all the paintings, pottery, and sculptures before heading to another one of our favorite galleries. As we walked down the sidewalk, I saw a familiar lady across the street holding open a door, and beckoning us to enter her building. I yelled hello across to her, but said we were on our way to a gallery. My friend started across the street and said, 'Come on, let's go in! It's beautiful there. I've been inside for watercolor society meetings." I followed, then introduced her to my former mother-in-law. "Cassidy," I said "This is Kate, my next door neighbor." I knew Cassidy had no idea that we were heading into a church service. Part of the healing process that I've needed to do is to separate my former MIL from her son. I am working on allowing our relationship to be mended. Earlier in the week I had been dining with Kate, and she had mentioned the Friday Vespers that would be happening at church. See, this used to be my church for over 15 years. I all ready knew it is beautiful inside. In fact, there is so much that I know about it. If only I had a chance to tell my friend, and pull her back before she started across the street. I wasn't sure I could emotionally handle this building in my life yet. But, the Universe gives us what we need, when we need it.
We were inside and now heading towards the sanctuary where live jazz was enticing all within earshot to come and listen. I was greeted by familiar faces with hugs, and words of joy, "I'm so happy to see you." The words and hugs were heartfelt.
We picked a pew in the back of the church and sat down to listen to the music and singing. I thought maybe we could find a moment to sneak out before the service got started. My MIL, whose job as greeter was now over, entered the sanctuary and made her way back to sit next to me. This was now going to be more of a challenge to leave. I could walk though, if this became too emotionally difficult. When it came time for us to sing the first song, my MIL reached out to stead her side of my bulletin because I had offered and was sharing it with her. Cassidy chucked under her breathe. We hadn't talked about leaving early, but I suspect she had been having the same thoughts. We were now all in. We were meant to absorb what the universe was offering. We needed to be in this moment.
This service was called a Vesper Service, which means a sunset prayer. As the service went on, I felt it was more meditative in nature. It offered soft words that were meant to calm the chaos of life. The minister, whom I have known for what seems like forever, spoke in her positive tone. She and I are kindred spirits, and I felt the connection once again. I was being drawn into her positivity. The service was about balance and letting go of those things in our life we need to let go. After singing psalms, and poems of peace, there was a period when communion and prayer time was offered. This is a church that accepts all, and they mean all. No one is turned away. At this service, the church had several stations set up as alternative ways to be one with God. You could choose communion, you could lay your hands on a large globe and say a prayer for someone else in the world, you could go to the back narthex and draw a small picture, you could choose to light a candle as an offering, or you could write something on a piece of paper to let go. The paper could be placed into a bowl of water, stirred, and then melt away...releasing you from whatever you were holding on to. Cassidy looked at me at this point. She said, "Did you need to be here?" I felt her question was rhetorical, but responded any way, "I think I did." She asked if I wanted to participate in any of the stations. I said yes, and asked if she minded because this had not been part of how I thought we'd spend the evening. She gave me a smile of friendship and said she was happy to stay. It was in that moment that we both realized that the Universe was actually working some kind of magic. I decided I needed communion, because I needed to feel nourished by God, and I needed to release, by writing on one of those small bits of paper.
I went forward and the minister's smile radiated down on me, "Lisa," she said, "You are loved, and there isn't anything you can do about it." I told her I might cry. The lump in my throat was not from the gluten free bread and wine I ate. I went towards the back of the sanctuary and I wrote, I am letting go of ----- There is joy in my heart and love, and peace, and happiness, and I am grateful. I choose love, understanding and peace. As I swirled the paper around inside the glass bowl, I saw it melt away as the ink from my words floated to the surface. My words were mixing now with the words from others. I was released. I looked up at the front of the church. The tree of life stained glass window still looks as beautiful as I recall. I could hear the spirit of my father-in-law's voice and feel the pressure of his hand on my right shoulder. So many times he had signaled me to go forward when it was time to serve communion to the congregation. I recalled my own children being baptized in the waters of the baptistery just beneath the tree of life years ago. Their baptism was by immersion. My children were old enough to make the commitment and know what it meant. I taught vacation bible school in this building and did children's ministry every Sunday for the first five years I was back in town. I have been a very active person in this place. So much personal history is in these walls.
I believe the Universe was speaking to me tonight. I have given so much and now it was time for me to receive back. I need to be able to heal completely so I can move forward in my life. Thank you Universe. Maybe my sabbatical from church is nearing it's end?
My soul was shattered and my spirit was broken.
Life is a forever forward moving process.
I am open Universe,
please continue giving me what I need,
when I am ready for it.
~Lisa Kroll
eating, praying and loving
-----
*my feelings. The church didn't say, Lisa you are not welcomed. I just don't like being made to feel like a sinner for being human and living life while always trying to do the right thing.
I have been struggling with my religious beliefs since February. I am still currently on sabbatical from the Catholic church. I am a spiritual being, but haven't been able to practice organized religion since listening to a sermon where I felt unwelcome because I am divorced.* The Universe gives us what we need though, when we need it.
My city has a talented community of artisans. Supporting the arts and our artisans, on the first Friday of each month, downtown Bloomington hosts a Gallery Walk. Nine galleries, all within walking distance of one another, offer appetizers and beverages of some type, and stay open from 5-8 pm. I haven't attended as frequently as I'd like, but this past Friday, one of my artist friends had a painting that would be on display. I made plans to be at the gallery displaying her work when I knew she would also be there. We snacked and admired all the paintings, pottery, and sculptures before heading to another one of our favorite galleries. As we walked down the sidewalk, I saw a familiar lady across the street holding open a door, and beckoning us to enter her building. I yelled hello across to her, but said we were on our way to a gallery. My friend started across the street and said, 'Come on, let's go in! It's beautiful there. I've been inside for watercolor society meetings." I followed, then introduced her to my former mother-in-law. "Cassidy," I said "This is Kate, my next door neighbor." I knew Cassidy had no idea that we were heading into a church service. Part of the healing process that I've needed to do is to separate my former MIL from her son. I am working on allowing our relationship to be mended. Earlier in the week I had been dining with Kate, and she had mentioned the Friday Vespers that would be happening at church. See, this used to be my church for over 15 years. I all ready knew it is beautiful inside. In fact, there is so much that I know about it. If only I had a chance to tell my friend, and pull her back before she started across the street. I wasn't sure I could emotionally handle this building in my life yet. But, the Universe gives us what we need, when we need it.
We were inside and now heading towards the sanctuary where live jazz was enticing all within earshot to come and listen. I was greeted by familiar faces with hugs, and words of joy, "I'm so happy to see you." The words and hugs were heartfelt.
We picked a pew in the back of the church and sat down to listen to the music and singing. I thought maybe we could find a moment to sneak out before the service got started. My MIL, whose job as greeter was now over, entered the sanctuary and made her way back to sit next to me. This was now going to be more of a challenge to leave. I could walk though, if this became too emotionally difficult. When it came time for us to sing the first song, my MIL reached out to stead her side of my bulletin because I had offered and was sharing it with her. Cassidy chucked under her breathe. We hadn't talked about leaving early, but I suspect she had been having the same thoughts. We were now all in. We were meant to absorb what the universe was offering. We needed to be in this moment.
This service was called a Vesper Service, which means a sunset prayer. As the service went on, I felt it was more meditative in nature. It offered soft words that were meant to calm the chaos of life. The minister, whom I have known for what seems like forever, spoke in her positive tone. She and I are kindred spirits, and I felt the connection once again. I was being drawn into her positivity. The service was about balance and letting go of those things in our life we need to let go. After singing psalms, and poems of peace, there was a period when communion and prayer time was offered. This is a church that accepts all, and they mean all. No one is turned away. At this service, the church had several stations set up as alternative ways to be one with God. You could choose communion, you could lay your hands on a large globe and say a prayer for someone else in the world, you could go to the back narthex and draw a small picture, you could choose to light a candle as an offering, or you could write something on a piece of paper to let go. The paper could be placed into a bowl of water, stirred, and then melt away...releasing you from whatever you were holding on to. Cassidy looked at me at this point. She said, "Did you need to be here?" I felt her question was rhetorical, but responded any way, "I think I did." She asked if I wanted to participate in any of the stations. I said yes, and asked if she minded because this had not been part of how I thought we'd spend the evening. She gave me a smile of friendship and said she was happy to stay. It was in that moment that we both realized that the Universe was actually working some kind of magic. I decided I needed communion, because I needed to feel nourished by God, and I needed to release, by writing on one of those small bits of paper.
 |
| First Christian Church Bloomington, Indiana |
I believe the Universe was speaking to me tonight. I have given so much and now it was time for me to receive back. I need to be able to heal completely so I can move forward in my life. Thank you Universe. Maybe my sabbatical from church is nearing it's end?
My soul was shattered and my spirit was broken.
Life is a forever forward moving process.
I am open Universe,
please continue giving me what I need,
when I am ready for it.
~Lisa Kroll
eating, praying and loving
-----
*my feelings. The church didn't say, Lisa you are not welcomed. I just don't like being made to feel like a sinner for being human and living life while always trying to do the right thing.
Sunday, August 27, 2017
Continuing the Journey...
Two years, two months and 13 days have passed
since my Independence Day.
I put the dates into a 'days past' generator to find that out.
I am not keeping track.
I would not go back to my past life.
I was so limited and held back.
I intimidated the person whom I thought was my partner because he couldn't handle my glow.
I am healing, and learning to love again.
I am re-evaluating what it is that I have to offer the world.
I am not dating, nor do I have someone in the 'picture'.
I haven't loved myself for a very long time.
In order to be able to love someone else, I must first love myself.
No more accepting life as status quo.
*****
I am a product of the perfect combination of genes
which my parents brought together.
I was created, I did not create myself.
My complexion, my eyes, my smile...all gifts from my parents.
I don't see my parents in myself,
but I feel them in my heart.
My naturally curly hair, thank you dad,
and has a mind of it's own.
I love to let it be free.
I like that my hair may look different each time I look in the mirror.
I makes me unpredictable.
I have joy in my heart, and it oozes out.
I am truly grateful for all I have.
I choose positivity in life.
I enjoy making a difference, even if it's just
for one person,
one animal,
or our beautiful Earth.
I do love the world around me, and I love others.
I like to hear what someone young, or old has to say.
I am a listener, a thinker and a problem solver.
I look at others and wonder, what is their life story?
I look at things and think, is there a better way to do that?
I am a born teacher.
I have patience.
I am curious.
I want to know how and why things work as they do.
I marvel at simplicity and complexity.
I am generous with my time and talents.
I like taking care of others.
I am maternal.
I am creative.
Art and music drive my spirit.
Music is in every fiber of my being, and it colors my world.
I thrive when I can share my passions.
I feel the Universe tingles,
and that makes my soul happy.
~Lisa Kroll
spreading Love, Understanding, Positivity
Go listen to The Power of Peace CD by the Isley Brothers and produced by Carlos Santana.
released on July 28, 2017
Friday, May 12, 2017
Emotional Manipulation...an example
Mother's Day... a day when we honor our mom.
More than likely, mom is the woman who carried us in her womb for nine months. She protected, nourished and loved us, before we even entered the world. When a man and a woman have a child, it is possibly the most intimate experience they can share. Not long ago, men weren't allowed into the delivery room, but now they are not only welcomed, but are active participants, being asked to cut the cord that binds their child to his or her mother. The woman may carried their child, but the man is the witness. He witnesses the growth of his child as he or she goes from being a home pregnancy test result, to a small bump that grows into the size of a basketball. He witnesses black and white images on an ultra sound machine. He is witness to that incredible event of the birth of his child. He witnesses as the child travels from the safety of the uterus, through the pelvic bones, and out into the world where the first breathe is taken. A man witnesses the transformation of the amazing body of a woman. There is no doubt, a woman's body is truly amazing.
I have given birth to two children. To me they are blessings beyond compare. I no longer need to protect them as I once did. The nourishment I offer is mostly emotional, with a side helping of real calories. I love them more than they can every possibly know. They are two amazing human beings...a product of the childhood they were given.
Mother's Day 2013
In February of that year, he had started pushing me away. What was wrong with me? I didn't seem to be doing anything right. I sought therapy to find answers on what I needed to do to help change myself for him, for us. We were still sleeping in the same bed on Mother's Day. When I awoke that morning, I turned to him and confessed that I missed "us", I missed being intimate. Had I expected the lashing that followed, I would have remained silent, I would have kept my thoughts to myself.
I didn't expect what followed.
-----------------------------
me-What are you thinking?
him - What are you thinking?
me - I realize we are probably just going through something, but I miss our intimacy.
him - When did you see your therapist last?
me-Two weeks ago, and I'll see her this week.
him - Why aren't you seeing her weekly? Are you taking your meds?
Have you been taking your Xanax?
me-The Xanax is only for panic attacks and I haven't needed those for some time now.
him - What do you talk about in your sessions?
me-Well, I did tell her I miss our sex and she told me I need to back off and not push things.
him - What else do you talk about?
I mean, I know your sessions are private and not my business.
me - Well, I worry about how much you ride, and you are the one who told me about Over Training Syndrome. I wasn't even sure that was a real thing, so I googled it and you seem to fit all the symptoms.
him - That's part of being a high level, competitive athlete.
me - I know, I don't understand since I'm not an athlete.
him - That's absolutely right, you aren't.
me - I just don't know any other high level athletes to compare my concerns about you to. I also am concerned because you seem more jovial with others than you are with me. I'm just trying to figure out what I need to do to help this out. I realize I'm a pleaser and I shouldn't worry. I just feel like you give 150% of yourself to your cycling, and 150% of yourself to your job and there is nothing left for you to give me. I feel like there isn't a balance. I feel like all I get is a peck on the lips.
him - "That's all I have for you."
You suffer from low self-esteem and you need to work on that. It isn't my place to tell you daily that I love you, or that I find you attractive or that I think what you are doing is good.
me - Well, do you feel that way about me though?
him - Not all the time.
You are 49 years old. When are you going to start taking care of yourself? You have a basket of pills under the bed and you are comfortable taking those to manage things rather than to exercise, and walking the dog doesn't count as exercise. You need to get your heart rate elevated.
me - I have so much to do around here. I don't have time to exercise too.
him - What do you have to do?
me - I have to shop, and cook, and clean, and walk the dog, and work.
him - Your priorities are off. You need to find time to work out. How much are you on the computer during the day? How much are you on there morning, noon and night? I challenge you to write down how much you are on either the computer or your iPad.
me - You know, my mind just races. I'm worried maybe you are having an affair.
him - Is your goal to keep gaining weight?
me - I've actually lost 10 pounds since December.
him - Well, I can't tell.
me - I don't care if you can't tell. You can ask my doctor, they have official records.
him - "I'm not attracted to someone whose gut sticks out more than their tits.
Are you surprised to hear me say this?"
me - no (I was in absolute shock.)
him - "I mean, come on (and he touched his own chest) have you looked at me?"
(exhale and pause) Do you want me to hold you?
me - no
I took three xanax that day and emailed my therapist.
Above is from my email. Every word is true.
This is what emotional manipulation from a Narcissistic looks like from the inside.
I walked Winston as my escape after that conversation. When I returned he asked if I wanted to go to Goose Pond and see what it was like. He had asked me this once before. That previous day we were to go after he went riding his bike. When the time came for us to go, he was too exhausted. Today I told him no thanks. He asked if I didn't want to go because the birds were mostly gone. I told him I really didn't want to spend any time with him.
At my next therapy session my therapist told me I could believe what he tells me about myself, or I could go out into the real world and see what the rest of the world has to say. She suggested I take a trip by myself. You might recall that I went to the Grand Canyon on my walkabout. Mother's Day 2013 was the catalyst.
In September of 2013 he moved out of our bedroom. In April of 2014 he moved out of the house. On Mother's Day of 2014 he showed up at the house. He was mad that I had changed the locks. I told him he was the last person I wanted to see on Mother's Day. He asked why. I said don't you remember what you said to me last year? His response, "I remember. You're still in shock aren't you?"
----------------------------I needed to write this and share it publicly so I can be released. I have held this in my heart every day. When I look into the mirror now, I see someone who was hidden and is emerging. I need the poison he fed into my soul to be out, and completely gone.
I claim Mother's Day as mine.
I do not suffer from low self-esteem.
I am a warrior.
I am roaring.
~Lisa Kroll
Mother, Survivor, Love Warrior
Sunday, April 16, 2017
Practicing Mindfulness
I've been missing my mom these days...and my dad, and Winston, too.
As the weather is getting nicer, I find I am wanting to wander in the woods, but that makes me feel extremely untethered. I don't want another dog right now, but I miss my hiking buddy. I am working on learning to be comfortable in my untethered feelings, to enjoy my alone time, and on being mindful. My alone time is not necessarily a good thing. Certain tasks allow more time to ponder life. Alone... I clean my house, and I think. Alone... I mow my yard, and I think. Maybe the reason I enjoy music so much is because it distracts my brain. I am a thinker, but thinking when one is so alone can be dangerous. My brain is still asking old questions and trying to rationalize what happened: How did I got to this point in life? Why did things happen as they did? Maybe if I... Maybe if this... Am I destined to be alone forever? What if this is as good as it gets? What if this is all I get? What if I had my chance? What if no one wants me? What if I'm too much for someone else to handle? I know I am smart, strong spirited, capable, a problem solver, and generally, I have a happy heart. I know I am empathetic, and kind. A part of what brings me joy is my need to give back.
So, what's wrong with me???
I realize that's not the right question to be asking. NOTHING is wrong with me. I remind myself that I spent almost 30 years trying to make everything in life perfect. When things didn't go the way they were supposed to, I took the blame. Whether it was my fault or not. Emotionally, I'm in limbo. I KNOW what I should be doing, but I don't know how to get to the next point. I am learning to be intentional in my thoughts; to be mindful. This is my plan B. When I start to feel down, I allow myself to feel the heaviness in my heart for just a few minutes, and then I breathe a few deep breaths. I consciously think, 'why am I thinking these thoughts right now? I can't change how things are, but I can change my thoughts.' I try to identify my trigger, then, I acknowledge, right this moment, something that brings me joy. I think about those things for which I am grateful. It doesn't have to be something big. It could be simple things like the tea I'm sipping, or Toulouse or Berlioz, or the smell of lilacs, as the scent wafts inside my house through my opened windows. It could be as simple as my flowered bed sheets or something funny that happened at school. This is a conscious effort that takes practice.
I have disliked weekends for a long time now. I have a to-do list for school and one for home. Both are extensive, so it isn't hard to work myself to exhaustion. However, I know that in order to heal, I need to make, and take, time for myself. I am working on finding balance. This past Friday night, I stayed after school until about 7, even though I know I will be going back on Sunday to finish planning out my week. Was I avoiding going home to an empty house? Yes. As I pulled into my neighborhood I could feel the loneliness creeping into my mood. I'll be honest. There are times when I think, maybe I should just have a few drinks, numb the pain, block out the loneliness. Except, that isn't me. I am responsible. Damn it!
One time, about a year ago...I grabbed the bottle of Marker's Mark from my cabinet when I got home. I sent a text to one of my friends and my sister, knowing full well that my sister was busy. "Here's what I'm doing...," I said. My friend responded almost immediately, he's been through a divorce. He understands my pain. He has healed, and is in his second marriage. "Three shots only," he told me. I had to promise to put the bottle away. I kept my promise. It helped in the moment, but it didn't really help. Also, I know it is unfair of me to put my burdens on others. It doesn't matter if my sister, or my friends tell me they don't mind, it is not right. I am reminded that life is not fair, but life is beautiful. In order to see the beauty, we need to be proactive and live in the moment. So, plan B.
Friday night, I knew I was starting to feel the weight of my untethered-ness. I allowed myself to acknowledge my feelings. I even allowed a few tears. Crying is a good way to release. Tears released, I asked myself, why am I feeling like this? Answer: It's the weekend, and it's a holiday. I don't have enough time to travel to be with my siblings and get done what I need over this weekend, so I will be alone. I am also on my self-imposed sabbatical from church, and I don't want to attend another church on Easter, especially by myself. So, no family and no church. Deep breaths, and center. I focused my thoughts on what I was grateful about at that very moment. I was grateful that I had a house to come home to. I was grateful that I had a bed to lay on, and kittens who are happy to see me. My kitties nuzzled my nose. My mood was shifting. Earlier in the day, one of my cousins on my dad's side, had asked a bunch of us if anyone had a certain family recipe. I did, but I was at school when she asked. Remembering this request, I got off my bed, and I found that recipe.
I shared it with my cousins. "Look!," I said, "bonus recipe, Pigs Feet!" (Bleh!!!!) Our parents certainly grew up in a very different time.
I thought about having a drink, but I came up with a different game plan. What if I baked the blues away??? I went to the store and I picked up the ingredients to make Easter Cheese, plus a few other things. I came home and went to work in my kitchen. I turned on some blues...jazz blues and started creating.
First, I made the Easter Cheese. As kids, my brother and I called it Egg Cheese. Looking at the ingredient list, Egg Cheese makes sense.
Over ripe bananas were on my counter...which lead to banana bread being baked. I also whipped together some basil pesto. I'll be making focaccia bread to go with the basil pesto and cheese tortellinis. Fresh bread out of the oven cannot be topped!
Another thing I know to be true about myself is that I am capable in the kitchen. I love having a reason to cook and share my culinary talents with others.
I wasn't planning on getting out Easter decorations, and then my sister unintentionally tore at my heart strings. She started sending pictures of the decorations she had out. She was sharing decorations that our mom had made. Crumbs. Up to my attic I went. I got out the bare minimum...only treasures crafted by our mother's hand...plus two critters she loved.
I do miss my parents. Having little treasures like these ceramic bunnies and eggs to pull out help remind me of the care my mom showed in all she did. I am very much like my mom. Having the hand-written recipes above, remind me of previous generations. As I read the Pigs Feet recipe, I recalled family members actually eating and enjoying these. Uck! It speaks volumes though about what they had or didn't have. It also emphasized to me how resourceful our prior generations were. Waste not, want not.
My dad would have celebrated his 84th birthday a few days ago, and my mom would have been 75 this year. I feel their presence in my home, and in my heart.
~Lisa Kroll
-----
After my morning edits, I must add these Sunday notes:
Before I went to write last night, my daughter called. My kids wanted to use my house to share a movie with their friends. They wanted to show their movie outdoors! My house is, and always will be, my children's home. When I returned from writing, I found my carport had been transformed into a drive-in theatre. Food was grilled, beer bottles opened, the porch swing was moved from out back, and camp chairs were scattered about. Time for the movie.
Before I had gone to bed, my kids asked if we could share the late morning today. My heart smiled. When I woke this morning, I found one child and her bf asleep on the porch swing (it folds down into a bed). I made my way back into my kitchen. Soon, the smells of coffee and cinnamon scones drifted out into the carport. Banana bread and Easter Cheese were available, too. My son soon joined us and we had the perfect Easter breakfast.
As the weather is getting nicer, I find I am wanting to wander in the woods, but that makes me feel extremely untethered. I don't want another dog right now, but I miss my hiking buddy. I am working on learning to be comfortable in my untethered feelings, to enjoy my alone time, and on being mindful. My alone time is not necessarily a good thing. Certain tasks allow more time to ponder life. Alone... I clean my house, and I think. Alone... I mow my yard, and I think. Maybe the reason I enjoy music so much is because it distracts my brain. I am a thinker, but thinking when one is so alone can be dangerous. My brain is still asking old questions and trying to rationalize what happened: How did I got to this point in life? Why did things happen as they did? Maybe if I... Maybe if this... Am I destined to be alone forever? What if this is as good as it gets? What if this is all I get? What if I had my chance? What if no one wants me? What if I'm too much for someone else to handle? I know I am smart, strong spirited, capable, a problem solver, and generally, I have a happy heart. I know I am empathetic, and kind. A part of what brings me joy is my need to give back.
So, what's wrong with me???
I realize that's not the right question to be asking. NOTHING is wrong with me. I remind myself that I spent almost 30 years trying to make everything in life perfect. When things didn't go the way they were supposed to, I took the blame. Whether it was my fault or not. Emotionally, I'm in limbo. I KNOW what I should be doing, but I don't know how to get to the next point. I am learning to be intentional in my thoughts; to be mindful. This is my plan B. When I start to feel down, I allow myself to feel the heaviness in my heart for just a few minutes, and then I breathe a few deep breaths. I consciously think, 'why am I thinking these thoughts right now? I can't change how things are, but I can change my thoughts.' I try to identify my trigger, then, I acknowledge, right this moment, something that brings me joy. I think about those things for which I am grateful. It doesn't have to be something big. It could be simple things like the tea I'm sipping, or Toulouse or Berlioz, or the smell of lilacs, as the scent wafts inside my house through my opened windows. It could be as simple as my flowered bed sheets or something funny that happened at school. This is a conscious effort that takes practice.
I have disliked weekends for a long time now. I have a to-do list for school and one for home. Both are extensive, so it isn't hard to work myself to exhaustion. However, I know that in order to heal, I need to make, and take, time for myself. I am working on finding balance. This past Friday night, I stayed after school until about 7, even though I know I will be going back on Sunday to finish planning out my week. Was I avoiding going home to an empty house? Yes. As I pulled into my neighborhood I could feel the loneliness creeping into my mood. I'll be honest. There are times when I think, maybe I should just have a few drinks, numb the pain, block out the loneliness. Except, that isn't me. I am responsible. Damn it!
One time, about a year ago...I grabbed the bottle of Marker's Mark from my cabinet when I got home. I sent a text to one of my friends and my sister, knowing full well that my sister was busy. "Here's what I'm doing...," I said. My friend responded almost immediately, he's been through a divorce. He understands my pain. He has healed, and is in his second marriage. "Three shots only," he told me. I had to promise to put the bottle away. I kept my promise. It helped in the moment, but it didn't really help. Also, I know it is unfair of me to put my burdens on others. It doesn't matter if my sister, or my friends tell me they don't mind, it is not right. I am reminded that life is not fair, but life is beautiful. In order to see the beauty, we need to be proactive and live in the moment. So, plan B.
Friday night, I knew I was starting to feel the weight of my untethered-ness. I allowed myself to acknowledge my feelings. I even allowed a few tears. Crying is a good way to release. Tears released, I asked myself, why am I feeling like this? Answer: It's the weekend, and it's a holiday. I don't have enough time to travel to be with my siblings and get done what I need over this weekend, so I will be alone. I am also on my self-imposed sabbatical from church, and I don't want to attend another church on Easter, especially by myself. So, no family and no church. Deep breaths, and center. I focused my thoughts on what I was grateful about at that very moment. I was grateful that I had a house to come home to. I was grateful that I had a bed to lay on, and kittens who are happy to see me. My kitties nuzzled my nose. My mood was shifting. Earlier in the day, one of my cousins on my dad's side, had asked a bunch of us if anyone had a certain family recipe. I did, but I was at school when she asked. Remembering this request, I got off my bed, and I found that recipe.
 |
| circa 1963 |
I shared it with my cousins. "Look!," I said, "bonus recipe, Pigs Feet!" (Bleh!!!!) Our parents certainly grew up in a very different time.
I thought about having a drink, but I came up with a different game plan. What if I baked the blues away??? I went to the store and I picked up the ingredients to make Easter Cheese, plus a few other things. I came home and went to work in my kitchen. I turned on some blues...jazz blues and started creating.
 |
| My Easter Cheese draining. |
First, I made the Easter Cheese. As kids, my brother and I called it Egg Cheese. Looking at the ingredient list, Egg Cheese makes sense.
 |
| Breakfast! |
Over ripe bananas were on my counter...which lead to banana bread being baked. I also whipped together some basil pesto. I'll be making focaccia bread to go with the basil pesto and cheese tortellinis. Fresh bread out of the oven cannot be topped!
Another thing I know to be true about myself is that I am capable in the kitchen. I love having a reason to cook and share my culinary talents with others.
I wasn't planning on getting out Easter decorations, and then my sister unintentionally tore at my heart strings. She started sending pictures of the decorations she had out. She was sharing decorations that our mom had made. Crumbs. Up to my attic I went. I got out the bare minimum...only treasures crafted by our mother's hand...plus two critters she loved.
 |
| Ceramic treasures created with love. |
I do miss my parents. Having little treasures like these ceramic bunnies and eggs to pull out help remind me of the care my mom showed in all she did. I am very much like my mom. Having the hand-written recipes above, remind me of previous generations. As I read the Pigs Feet recipe, I recalled family members actually eating and enjoying these. Uck! It speaks volumes though about what they had or didn't have. It also emphasized to me how resourceful our prior generations were. Waste not, want not.
My dad would have celebrated his 84th birthday a few days ago, and my mom would have been 75 this year. I feel their presence in my home, and in my heart.
~Lisa Kroll
-----
After my morning edits, I must add these Sunday notes:
Before I went to write last night, my daughter called. My kids wanted to use my house to share a movie with their friends. They wanted to show their movie outdoors! My house is, and always will be, my children's home. When I returned from writing, I found my carport had been transformed into a drive-in theatre. Food was grilled, beer bottles opened, the porch swing was moved from out back, and camp chairs were scattered about. Time for the movie.
Before I had gone to bed, my kids asked if we could share the late morning today. My heart smiled. When I woke this morning, I found one child and her bf asleep on the porch swing (it folds down into a bed). I made my way back into my kitchen. Soon, the smells of coffee and cinnamon scones drifted out into the carport. Banana bread and Easter Cheese were available, too. My son soon joined us and we had the perfect Easter breakfast.
 |
| Cinnamon Scones |
 |
| Easter Cheese...with salt |
Happy Easter to all.
God is great, and he has risen indeed!
I am consciously mindful of how blessed my life really is these days.
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