"Follow the yellow brick road"

I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore Toto.

I just finished whipping up a batter for homemade peanut butter cupcakes with chocolate chips… As in from scratch… As in no box mix was used at all. They are in the oven baking away as I type this.

This is the first time I’ve ever made cupcakes from scratch. I’ve made semi-homemade ones and homemade frosting, but nothing like this. I am a bit apprehensive about how they are going to turn out. I’ve heard the horror stories of people making them from scratch only to have them come out very dry. When mixing the batter it was not near as liquid as a box mix would have been. I realize that’s partly due to the fact that my recipe didn’t require water - nor did it require oil. However I know that peanut butter has oil in it, so my guess is that will help things out a bit. Anyhoo… I’m anxious to see how they turn out. Fingers crossed they turn out splendid.

I’ll be making the homemade peanut butter frosting before work tomorrow. Yes, I’m just a lunatic like that!

My favorite cupcake at Sprinkles is the one with peanut butter frosting. It’s so incredibly rich and delicious. If these bad boys turn out half as good, I’ll consider it a success.

“It won’t be long til happiness steps up to greet me”

I guess you could say that I have a Saturday morning ritual. I wake up, go downstairs and immediately open up my front door. I start making my oatmeal and then I sit on my orange flowered chair and eat my breakfast. There is something about the crisp, fresh morning air, the warm bowl of oatmeal, and the sounds of the world slowly starting to wake up that I absolutely love. It’s peaceful. It’s relaxing. And as of lately, it’s the time when I usually get to see one or two of my hummingbird visitors feed from my feeder.

I know that I have at least 4 hummingbirds coming to my front door. How do I know they are the same? Well, #1 likes to eat from the left, front flower opening. #2 likes to eat from the right, front flower opening. #3 likes to eat from the right, front opening but always buzzes right in front and then starts to sit but changes his mind and buzzes right in front of the feeder some more and then starts to sit, and repeats this one more time before he usually perches to eat. - even then it’s a quick drink and he repeats. I’m lucky if he drinks three times before flying off. And the #4 - well, this is my newest one. She’s much smaller than all the rest. I saw her for the first time this afternoon. She flew down, buzzed there for a moment and then rested on the feeder, took a drink and then decided she wanted a different view. So while staying at the same right, front opening, she moved her little body a little more to the right and finished her meal.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to like the location of my feeder, but it seems to work quite nice since I can enjoy the view from my chair. It’s also exciting to watch the red elixir getting lower and lower because so many hummingbird friends are enjoying it. Last month I had hardly any visitors. This month… well, this month they seem to love it.

Ever since I was a little girl I’ve had an interest in hummingbirds. I remember going to my great-grandma’s apartment and watching her hang her feeder. Whenever a hummingbird would stop by, she’d let me know and I’d rush to the sliding door to catch sight of it. They are just so magical. I consider myself lucky to know that I’m keeping the magic going strong.

It’s the little things in life… these fine moments... that I appreciate the most.

"Living in the Moment"

I had a great weekend. I had the kind of weekend my soul needed.

Saturday I spent a good few hours outside. I had a picnic in a cemetery. I know that might be creepy to most, but it wasn’t. Or it wasn’t to me. I picked the picnic that destination. Cemeteries have always been a tranquil place for me to be. Sitting on the blanket underneath the tree, thinking about all of the stories that are enveloped inside. To think of all the history laying beneath the ground. And to think of all the comfort that is drawn from visits. Even in times of great sadness, I think those feelings can come full circle there. Following the picnic was a game of scrabble played outside on giant cement steps of a school campus. No one was there but us. We were in the shade, yet it was still warm out. And following that was dinner and a long conversation of randomness. I didn’t get home until just after midnight. Good company. Good memories made.

Today I got up and went to church. What was different about today was the longing I had to go to church. I *needed* to go to church. I have been praying very hard for a friend of mine. I won’t get into details because it’s his story to tell (or not tell), not mine. But his sister isn’t doing so well. She's in the hospital and her life is very fragile right now. I can honestly say that I haven’t prayed this hard in a very long time. I’ve been praying for his sister. I’ve been praying for him. I’ve been praying for his family. I’ve been praying for physical changes to occur to help things go the right way. I’ve been praying for answers, I’ve been praying for miracles. I know that God is in control. I know that regardless of the outcome, He has a reason for all of this taking place. But that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with situations like this. So I’ve been doing all that I can do… I’ve been praying. I hurt for him and his family and everything they are feeling right now. I needed to go to church now more than ever because I needed to have my spiritual cup filled up again. And when I got to church, the worship songs were perfect. It was like Jesus was reaching out to me and telling me that it was going to be okay. He was going to give me the strength that I needed to persevere, not just in regards to praying for my friend and his family, but for my life in general as well. And as the pastor began the message, I sat there looking at the bulletin of notes and thought “eh. This one looks like it’s going to be boring. Bummer”. Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. That message hit home. It was all about listening to God. And I mean really listening. Because he has a plan for all of us, but sometimes we need to focus really hard on Him and ask the hard questions and wait for the even tougher answers to come. I need to rely on Him that He has a master plan for me, I just need to listen (and obey). The message was wrapped up with us being encouraged to fast. Fast from whatever was grabbing our attention the most.. Food, tv, work, music, movies… whatever it may be, fast from it and instead use that time to focus on the Lord and His word so that we can try to see the path we are supposed to be on right now.

Even further irony was on my way to church I decided to listen to my Jason Mraz cd. Track number 2 is “Living in the moment”. For whatever reason I paid closer attention to the music and the words and it really hit home. I listened to it on repeat all the way to church. The lyrics spoke to me so clearly that I feel as though it’s on my life’s soundtrack. I’m listing the words below as well as including the link to hear the song. It’s going to be a part of my motto.

So now you see what I mean when I started off by saying that this weekend was exactly what my soul needed. I was able to get outside and just enjoy life. I've been able to be there as support to my friend and then go to church and be spiritually fed so that I can continue to try to be an encouragement to him. I spent the rest of the day with my parents. It was a truly good weekend.




LIVING IN THE MOMENT
By Jason Mraz




If this life is one act
Why do we lay all these traps
We put them right in our path
When we just wanna be free
I will not waste my days
Making up all kinds of ways
To worry about all the things
That will not happen to me
So I just let go of what I know I don't know
And I know I only do this by

Living in the moment
Living my life
Easy and breezy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
Got peace in my soul
Wherever I'm going, I'm already home
I'm living in the moment

I'm letting myself off the hook for things I've done
I let my past go past
And now I'm having more fun
I'm letting go of the thoughts
That do not make me strong
And I believe this way can be the same for everyone
And if I fall asleep
I know you'll be the one who'll always remind me

To live in the moment
To keep living my life
Easy and breezy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
Got peace in my soul
Wherever I'm going, I'm already home

I can't walk through life facing backwards
I have tried
I tried more than once to just make sure
And I was denied the future I'd been searching for
I spun around and hurt no more

By living in the moment
Living my life
Easy and breezy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
Got peace in my soul
Wherever I'm going, I'm already home

I'm living in the moment
I'm living my life
Just taking it easy
With peace in my mind
I got peace in my heart
I got peace in my soul
Oh, wherever I'm going, I'm already home

I'm living in the moment

"I reminisce about the days of old"

Today as I was driving down the freeway, I caught a whiff of a scent in the air and it reminded me of a memory from when I was quite young (about 4 or 5). I thought I’d share that memory here, as well as a few others just for kicks. Because the first one centers around my dad, I figured I’d share “Dad” stories today. And then soon enough I’ll share “Mom” stories, too. So now it’s time to take a trip down my memory lane…

• When I was a little girl I used to love going to the dumps with my dad. Obviously being a child I was never allowed to get out of the pickup truck to help unload the haul, but that never stopped me from going. And I can’t really say that I went all that many times, but when I did, it was like a special treat. I remember I made up a game when I would go. As my dad would be emptying out the bed of the truck, I would be counting batteries. You would be amazed at how many batteries I’d see on the ground. So I’d count away until my dad was done, and then we’d drive away. I remember the bumpiness of the drive. I remember the seagulls in the air and on the ground. I remember there being a guy at the top directing you on where to go. I remember the smell (stench really) in the air. To this day, when I drive by the spot where you can smell it from the freeway… it transports me back to good times. The smell, as gross as this might sound, is a welcoming smell to me. I like it. In the summer I will actually roll down my window and inhale as it transports me back to those times.

• About the same time as me going to the dumps with my dad, I also remember being out in the backyard with him while he would be doing yard work. I never helped (even as I got older I somehow managed to bypass that one) but I liked to take his old big, black lunch pail (you know, the kind with the domed lid) and I would go throughout the backyard collecting ladybugs and putting them inside this pail. This lunch pail was to be their new home. I even took the liberty of putting a lot of blades of grass and leaves inside so that when I closed the lid they would have air… or so I thought. It was a bit devastating when I came back to check on my bugs only to discover that they were all dead. Guess that wasn’t one of my brightest moments at 4 years old. Lol. I didn’t mean any harm. Maybe that’s why whenever a ladybug lands on me, it tends to pee. One might call that karma.

• When I was in Elementary School I did a fundraiser for MS. I can’t remember exactly what I had to do - my guess is it was a run-a-thon with me getting people to sponsor me for x amount of money for every lap I completed. Or it’s possible it was a book-a-thon where I got x amount of money for book I read. Anyways, the point is, I earned two prizes for doing so well. I got a trophy and I also got two tickets to an A’s game. How cool is that?! I remember going with my dad to the A’s game. I was so proud to have earned them. I can’t tell you where we sat or who they played (I was only between 7 and 9 yrs old at the time). But I remember my dad buying me a sundae in one of those helmet cups. And we watched the game together.

• How many times did I wake up on Saturday mornings at 10am to the stereo BLARING. My dad would either be listening to a classic rock radio station or he'd be listening to one of his records. I always wondered why he listened to THAT. And then as I got older I learned to appreciate that music. Now I have all of my Dad's vinyl albums and I love classic rock. Funny how things can come full circle.

• My dad is not fond of games. Never has been and I venture to say he never will be. HOWEVER, there were two games I could usually get him to play with me - Around the World and HORSE. Many a basketball games were played in our driveway. I wasn’t that good. Obviously the shots I took were much easier for him than me, but he still played. It wasn’t about winning or losing. It really was all about just playing the game. I imagine he also looked at it as practice for him.

• My dad played on two mens basketball leagues. The games were always on school nights, but if it wasn’t a late game I was usually allowed to go watch. I started going to them when I was in 6th or 7th grade, and I remember still going to them when I was in high school because when I got my permit my dad usually let me drive us home from the game. At the games I would sit in the bleachers (often times it was just me and maybe a handful of other people). I would help my dad stretch just like my mom sometimes did. And right before everyone got on the court the guys would usually let me shoot a few before they warmed up. During the game I liked to keep stats as best I could. I’d keep track of the score and who made the shots, how many fouls, etc. It used to irritate me when the old man keeping score on the scoreboard would mess up! I would yell “BRIIIIIIICK” quite loudly when someone on the other team was shooting. I would cheer and clap. I would stomp my feet on the bleachers. It was great. Looking back it was nice that I was able to support my dad playing sports like he supported me in mine.

Two more memories and then I’ll wrap this up.

• Disneyland. I remember my dad taking me to Disneyland once, just me and him. I think I was 9 at the time. We were only there for 2 days I think, so it’s possible it was on a weekend. I don’t really know. I also can’t tell you why he took me there. I just know it was major father daughter time. We went on Star Tours (and my dad found out he could barely stomach the ride). We went on the EO something or other - it was the Michael Jackson attraction at the time. I remember watching the fireworks as we were walking out of the park. And I remember going into one of the Disney stores and my dad letting me pick out a souvenir. I’m not sure why I didn’t go for a typical Disney themed toy. Instead I picked out a rubber stamp with two geese on it with flowers and a heart, and a stamp pad that was tri-colored pink/purple/turquoise. To this day I still have both of them. It’s been a few years since I tested the ink pad, but it still worked last time.

• And finally, I would have to say my fondest memory as a teenager would be my trips to Mexico with my dad. My youth group was going down to do a vacation bible school for a week. It was all about playing with the kids and sharing bible stories with them as well. I told my parents I wanted to go to the informational meeting to see what it was all about. Turns out that when we left, my dad wanted to go to. I never asked if it was because he was afraid to let me go with the group without him, or if he just thought it would be a good opportunity like I did. It really doesn’t matter now anyways. What matters is that that was the first trip of about 4 or 5 trips that we would go on together. It was always during Easter/Spring Break. While we didn’t really see much of each other during the main part of the day, it was nice getting to have meals with him every day. It was nice being able to share stories of what happened during the day. It was great getting to serve beside my dad. It is something that no matter what, no one could take away from me. For those lone weeks, we were on our own spiritual journeys together. There aren’t a lot of people who can say they got to do that with their dad. I’m certainly a lucky one.

I’ll always be Daddy’s little girl. There is no greater man that I know.