Makin' Bacon

I believe it has the powers to bridge the gap of a prior nights argument. I believe it can turn a cranky child in to a happy camper. I believe it can turn a normally calorie conscious person into one who justifies. Also, for me, there is something about the slow, deliberate turning and scooting of the luscious pork that causes me to have to stand still long enough to ponder some things I have put on the back burner, ha!, no pun intended. So on this fine Eve of our glorious Independence Day, I find myself wanting to stop everything I was going to do for a minute & cook up some bacon. I carefully cut across the top lengthwise as is my custom & throw the thin strip away in the recycle bin. I peel ' back the first piece & set it into the warming pan.

I would like to interject at this point that as a person nearly nine years into "Recovery", right brained & pushing through life long Post Trauma, I have , at now 55 years old , come to closure with many baffling things concerning the person I am. Why I've always felt so outside of the outside of the circle. Why I was SO unorthodox with everything I did. Why I was what I prefer to call deliberate which the rest of the world calls s-l-o-w. What does this have to do with makin' bacon  you might be thinking about now. In what is my world?? Everything.

Structure & schedules I have always been rather in opposition to. I say that's just something from my era as a baby boomer being raised up in that "hippie" culture. But processes, staging, & methodology are necessary to ensue a properly functioning brain in this prodigy. Seals with an answer why I am unstressed after going through the protocol required for making lasagna, canning fruit butters, mending clothes or braiding hair. Back to the bacon.

In a choreographed manner I set the bacon slices side by side. I gaze intently into the pan as though I am about to deliver the long awaited answer for the cure of breast cancer. Shifting the pieces around, gently turning, making sure the temp. stays low & slow, I consider this place I am now at in my life.
Not in a million years nor in my greatest imagination could I have come up with something better than the reality of the current "living" situation I find myself in.

It is known in many states as "shared housing". Other terms are, transitional housing or communal living. One resident/roommate whom has become like family to me says it's ,"just a step up from a boarding house". Ha!! Ha!! If I didn't keep light of everything?? I'd certainly lose my mind. Thank you for continued grace God!! And for showing me that my circumstances by no means dictate WHO I am !! So.... I have been in this type of living for exactly two years now originating from actual homelessness w/my then 17 year old girl. After two months in the family shelter we transitioned out. I have been 2 years with this landlord whom has acquired thirteen other houses of the same type. 6 people per home. Personal bdrms. pose as the main living quarters. Kitchen, bathrooms, yard areas common ground for all. I must thank God for people like him. Even if he is doing this as a career choice because he has become wealthy or simply as a result of having a heart like a Samaritan for those such as myself , it is a wonderful thing to have a secure roof over my head, adequate, healthy water, decent & appropriate clothing through the seasons. If the rent comes faithfully , ANYONE can rent from this man. Scary how the "Almighty Dollar" can dictate what's allowable & what isn't!! This shouldn't be.

Every single thing I own now fits in one bedroom. How much do we really NEED anyway?? And it's "freeing". I feel unencumbered. It's wonderful. What's NOT wonderful are some of the people that transition through. Stories for another time for sure!! So, in the approximate 30 minutes ,{ I can work that stove to take 40 minutes for bacon if I REALLY have a lot of contemplating to do } , it takes to cook this stuff, I have sorted through many a thing mentally AND produced part of an awesome breakfast at the same time!! I quickly scramble some eggs with cheese sauteing some fresh parsley, onion & garlic to add in the final moments, brown up some artisan bread & "VOILA"!! Breakfast AND 1/2 of the 10 kinds of science mastered in one stroke!!

And there we have it. A heads up. If you are ever invited to where I am for a homeade breakfast & happen to observe me "makin' bacon", hand on hip, head tilted downward gazing intently at the project at hand, you will be one of the "remnant few" who will be keyed in realizing there is far more going on than the mechanics of cooking a tasty meal. It is what the true magic is of "makin' bacon".
Yours At The Keys : Sher

Freedom on the Inside

I first understood these words being released from a short term in prison. Yes, prison. And if you saw me you would know that is the last place you would ever picture a person like me. The girls inside said so too. Live & learn. Yet some don't, I did. But by the "Grace" of God go I. That is a story for another time. However, there was a particular Bible being handed out there. Paperback. Steel Blue, artsy design. On the back cover was a pair of muscled, shackled hands. The kind of shackles used on the old slave ships, 3" inches in length, thick, not the "bracelets" you see today. The words above the picture said,"Freedom On The Inside". The picture & those words have remained etched in my mind through the years, resurfacing on many an occasion. You can look at the faces of children & families in less privileged countries than America & see they have true joy. I have seen genuine Peace on the faces of those whose lives are being robbed by cancer. I have seen authentic Love being displayed through forgiveness after a heinous crime was committed. Freedom on the inside. It is not a given. It is worked for. Not as in "9 to 5" for 50 years with a now obsolete pension. Not shuffling amongst the rat race, forging ahead through the muck & mire of life to pay off a mortgage. {And lucky to pay it before you die}. Not even being committed to a spouse after taking "forever" vows. It is personal. It is individual. It is not always nor easily attained. For shackles can enclose the heart, capture our mind which is our soul. It can wind like Ivy through our spirit. It can encapsulate our very thought processes. It can hold us captive. More captive than I was behind bars. It is a profound hell of sorts. There are select "catch" phrases that I detest. "Life's not a bed of roses", comes to mind first. Well .... ya think?? Usually coming from someone who is living what I call a "charmed" life. "Don't live in the past". True that. Don't. All the regrets in the world won't & can't change it. HOWEVER can I please talk about the "past" in the course of conversation sometimes to get closure & GET PAST the past ?? Trust & believe there is A LOT of past from 54 years. Thank you. "Life is what you MAKE it". Yep. When life sends perpetual storms, no , not rain, not storms, tidal waves & monsoons, taking out an umbrella just won't cut it. AND for many, life was MADE into a wonderful career because mommy & daddy cared to pay for your college not pharmaceuticals to dope you up. "Make better choices." This ones classic. One of the reasons I have "made the choice" not to hang out with groups of women. One Pastors wife so ignorantly stated,"Well surely once you hit 40 you automatically KNOW better about certain things." KNOW better than what ?? Spoken from someone who has had a "good" life with ONE husband & can hit the salon to maintain the "perfect" hairstyle every 6 to 8 weeks ?? Talk to your own kind woman. I used to live like her. It's more bondage than the shackles. Having to feel I could not step out the door without the perfect 30 minute make-up application & every hair in it's proper place. Even then feeling like I didn't look "right". What I've come to learn after life's heinous, perpetual attacks against me is WHO I REALLY AM !! Praise God !!!! I KNOW who "I AM !! Not who my mom & daddy said I was. Not who my ex-husbands wanted me to be. Not a "step ford wife" model of every other woman .... ME !!!! I am a unique woman extra ordinaire !! I am "every woman" as Whitney so beautifully sings. I am an exceptional, talented, giving loving, Momma, Nana, sister, daughter & friend to countless many who have crossed paths with me on this journey called life. I am rather known internationally by several in countries such as Arabia & India as a result of my ministry services with brothers & sisters in Christ everywhere !! I searched for myself in "ALL" the wrong people, places & things.  At 54 years old,  I FOUND ME. It's wonderful !! It's fabulous !! It's freeing !! YOU can have it. Freedom !! TRUE FREEDOM !! Freedom on the inside !! You don't have to land in prison & get kicked to the curb 50, 000 times like I did. You don't have to work 9 to 5 forever & hope at that time you have earned it. You  don't have to wistfully ponder," I have done everything 'RIGHT' & it still evades me." Connect with the "lover of your soul", Jesus Christ. Take time to know you. If you don't know you, find you. You can be found. Where there's life, there's hope. One of my greatest desires in life is for "ALL" God's people, every color, every nation, every religion, everywhere to find TRUE freedom !!!! Freedom in the heart, freedom in the soul, freedom everyday, all the time with every breath; freedom. THEN one can LIVE !! Truly live. Regardless of salary or stature. Regardless of geographics or habitations. Regardless of what is had or not had. To breathe in & breathe out .... FREEDOM !!!!

"View From A Jeep"

So-o.... I'm back !!!! Hundreds of stories have been experienced as everyday is a story. I have so much churning inside so there's much catching up to do. Like 50 years worth. Hopefully I will become more dedicated to this gift that's graciously been given to me. I just received that revelation this morning. Something I heard as I have been struggling to pull out of this deep darkness called depression that decided to visit New Years Day morning and not leave for 6 weeks. Worded as it was it struck a chord that hadn't been struck before. Dedication to what I've committed myself to. I apologize for the letter style change. I can't seem to change it back. Anyway, I know this of course. About committed dedication.It was just the way it came to me this day. In this way. Valentines Day Eve morning. A ray of light came through my single bedroom window in my converted basement bedroom where I currently dwell. I'm still in "shared" communal housing. Far from ideal but beats the streets. This ray of light was special. The way my room is positioned to the house, when the sun comes out it is not direct. And as we have been in our rainy season here in  beautiful Washington state it has naturally been overcast, gloomy or foggy for awhile. "Light Therapy" hasn't even been possible. And the cutest, chubby little bird came to my ground level view and chirped the prettiest little song, looking in at me when I normally only get crows. Love from Heaven. God was visiting me. Saying,"Come. I've sent this for you. I Love you. Come feel the sun I have set out in the sky for you. Too much time has passed in mere existence. Live while you have today. " I had a pressing urge to hurry & shower which I find an impossible chore when depressed. But something lifted. That black cloud dissipated in the light. Within minutes I heard my cell phone playing it's tune. Expecting word back from my youngest girl, I was surprised to find it was from my oldest. Pleasantly surprised. Time with my grown children is few and far between as they are in their busy 20's & 30's years of their productive , young lives. They tend to forget about their Mommas. Sometimes out of sight is out of mind. Maybe more accurately I'm placed on the back burner. It's the natural way of things at this stage of life .... unfortunately. I understand. Rachel & I had plans four days prior to this but I have been trying to pull out of this horrible bronchial, strep, flu thing on top of the dreaded depression & just couldn't pull it together. I had to cancel. I Love that God knows the desires of our heart. I was yearning to see her before Valentines Day and lo and behold, here is my message from her simply stating," Hungry " ?? .... Is the sky blue ?? Today , yes it is. I hurriedly & happily do my best at beautification,{it takes longer as we princesses get older}. I'm getting my emotions, which have lain dormant for 6 awful weeks back & boy does it feel like new life infused into my being !! Would that I could abolish all depression from every living creature with a mighty nuclear blast from now forever more as it is a great thief of all that i good !! As I'm finishing up I'm wishing I'd taken heed at my first internal nudging of getting ready. I covet every precious moment I get with my children & grand children. They are what make my heart beat. Through all the profound sorrows and tragedies of my life, they are why my heart still beats, quite literally. One more one word text comes in, "Here", it says. I had pre-opened the garage door before I applied my make up so I could fly through, not wasting a second. I am one always "staging" in preparation for a departure. Regardless of when or where. I believe I have not seen Rachel since Christmas. WAY too long. I did fly through. Straight to her partially unrolled window grabbing her with a foreign feeling smile on my face, not willing to wait on an already overdue hug. Just to breathe her in, look at her lovely yet tired face for a moment before climbing into her navy blue Jeep. My youngest of 7 princesses is in the back seat. Every time I see her I am flashing back to the late 80's, early '90s as she is truly my Rachel's "mini-me". Her momma incarnate. To her soul. Three generations of us ladies occupying this vehicle. Love, Love, Love when this happens. Especially when Savannah's with us. Wish my own mom could join. Another story for another time for sure. So Rachels had her sights on a little Italian dig in Fircrest. Quaint & nostalgic. Like stepping into little Italy. Maybe 8 tables in the place. Italian through and through !! No cheeseburgers here. Everything Italian is close to my heart as I married one & have an Italian son from him. Memories of the DeLucas come flooding back. Passionate people these Italians. I developed deep Love or them. Of course most Americans I venture to say are raised with some diet including Italian fare so that is nothing new in itself. But I'm talkin' authentic here. I got quite good at genuine Italian cooking myself & am convinced it is one of the worlds most spectacular international delights. We order and take in our surroundings. Honestly like a scene from an old movie an elderly man walks up to the counter & yells,"HEY FRANKIE!! Where's Frankie?? How ya doin' ?? " My daughter was facing that direction from our small table & nudged me to notice. She always takes in 100 things at once. That's the photographer in her. We made rounds in the small store; Deli as they tend to our order. One couldn't find more authentic pastas, sauces & olive oils. I'm sure they are imported. The cost proved it. The lively mild chatter was inviting. A really cozy vibe permeates this place. As we hungrily partake of the scrumptious sandwiches, we try not talking with our mouths full to fit in every bit of conversation we can playing catch up in this ridiculously short span of time. My littlest Princess is happily munching a tiny side salad Rachel shares with her. I always say she is this full woman trapped in a living doll body. You would have to know her to understand. Her speech holds three and four syllable words at 4 years old. You can take her anywhere. She knows exactly how to act & not to act & trust & believe she can shop with the best of us !! All too briefly time slips away as all wonderful moments do & my Rachel has to get me back in time to pick up her little guy at school. My only Prince, Alyx. He will be a preteen before long here. Two of my favorite words.... don't blink. As we glide through traffic there are virtually no lulls in conversation. I don't even know what that means. I notice the skyscape. Perfectly true "sky blue". Luscious swirls of delicate, cottony clouds in sweeps & swirls. God showing off again. As we turn left at the last stop light, just passing lovely Wapato Park, I am once again saddened at the brevity of our time. In this case it really was brief. Less than 2 hours. Grateful to be sure for so much ne awareness lighting it's way into my mind & just for another chance to share whatever time I am given with my children be it 5 minutes or 5 hours. Every moment counts adding to all of my other moments at other times and seasons of my life with people I Love most. As I notice new streaks of silver insisting it's way through my once chestnut hair I am painfully aware of how fleeting time is and silently thank God for a most special day. Your at the Pen, Sher