my gratitude for this year

thank you, mr. gardener, for loving me. 

21 degrees.

21 degrees. Tonight, as I was driving towards the freeway, I saw a woman walking along the road in through the two feet of snow.  She had bags hanging from each shoulder, and a bundle in her arms that looked to be a baby.  I slowed the car, then I drove on.  And I am sick over it.

At what point can you help your fellow man?  It took everything I had to keep going.  Common sense kept telling me, 'in this day and age, it's not safe,' or 'you are less than a mile from the state prison.'  A single woman by herself late at night should not be picking up strangers off the road but people, 21 degrees.  Bitter cold.  And I let her walk away.

On my way home, 19 degrees now, I looked for her.  There is a little pass under the bridge that she could have been hiding in, it would have blocked most of the wind.  The snow was coming down, the roads were becoming icier by the minute, yet I knew I should stop and look for her. Crazy, but true.  Did I?  No, I hesitantly pulled into the driveway and stopped, giving myself 'not safe' excuse after 'i'm sick' excuse to go in.  And I did.  I'm warm, I'm full, I'm safe.  When is it right to put others first and when is it wrong?  When am I being ridiculous and when am I being selfish?

Do I sound insane?  
This isn't selflessness; this is how far I am from being able to define this line.

Jesus Breads

Seeing as it is the birthday of our lord and savior this month, I consciously decided to give Him a true gift this year.



For Him, I gave up my Jesus breads.  What is a jesus bread, you might ask?  They are braided, jam filled loaves of bread shaped to look like a candy cane, then drizzeled in icing and cherries.  Papa Tarrant, a dear man, says he always thought they were in the shape of of a 'J' for Jesus. 

Every year, I INSIST that my Jesus breads are made and distributed - no exceptions.  If you have been in the same town as I over xmas - you probably had one shoved in your face as I franctically ran back to the car to deliver 50 more.  I was spreading Chrismas cheer, damnit!

This year, with 4 big shoots, a move across country, a new city, well, all of it, I just couldn't do it.  I made a few down in Austin - the camera store people, etc - but by the time I made it up to Dallas, I. just. couldn't.  Oh but don't you worry I still willfully tried, I bought 5 loaves of bread dough (people, not even ole' wonderwoman made that dough from scratch), thawed it out, braided them, and yeah then... I collapsed.  dropped.  BUT MY BREADS!!! If you don't bake them a few hours after you make them they rise too much and you must stand by the oven because they burn so fast.  A few made it to the oven AT 2 AM and then I just couldn't do it anymore.  All but one burned and it being Sunday morning and my flight to Salt Lake leaving at 6 am Monday morning, well - it was either go to the store and start all over or JUST LET IT GO (if I were to ever get a tattoo, that would be it).

But what about that neighbor across the street from my dad's house that (whose name I don't even know) who claims she waits all year for that bread to come to her door?  Or those friends of mine who only live 90 miles away but get the Jesus breads every year??  Or that sweet lady who took such good care of my grandma before she died. Or that rabbi. Or the owners of that dog rescue. Or the lady who is going to take care of that puppy mill dog I was watching for 2 days who broke her leg in the backyard and now has to be crated for 2 months at her house?  yada yada yada.

Then as I was kneeling down and realizing that I was asking the good Lord to help me get my Jesus breads done in time, I stopped, thought, and then asked, 'what can I do for you to honor your birthday?'  The response was quick, 'for my birthday, let it go.'  Now there are MANY things that was being mentioned but first and foremost (and this may sound ridiculous), the Jesus breads.

Instead of going to the store on Sunday and working to near exhaustion to remake these blasted things all day, I let them go. I let them go and I went to church and I thanked Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ for love and glory, and for the lessons they are trying to teach me.  And reteach me.




ps - Papa Tarrant got the only one that didn't burn.  Although he lives an hour away. sigh.

Merry Christmas!

 

 



Happy Birthday to my Savior, my Lord.

Roots



Everyone, meet my favorite spot in the entire state of Texas.  Favorite spot - everyone.  I call it 'my island' and yes, it must be visited several times a week.  My legs last until the other side of it and then it is time to sit under the most perfect tree.





Charles and I were taking a rest here the other day and I stopped and noticed the exposed roots I was sitting on.  They were huge! And bumpy. And hard. And not the prettiest. Spreading in every which direction, kinking up and smoothing out, intertwining with neighbors, creating the most chaotic pattern.  'Oh what a story this tree could tell,' I thought.  Tree roots are ususally so deep underground and so rarely exposed, I've never really stopped to think about how as much of a tree is hidden as is above ground.

My, oh my, what we really can't see.  So much more lies beneath, those sprawling and sturdy underground limbs holding us up, their curvy and bumpy path having hit so many blocks and with simply changing direction or merging with other roots for added strength, continuing on.  Above surface, we may look tall and strong, stable and steady, but underneath we are each on a chaotic and curvy path.  Perfectly straight roots would not yield such depth and lengths. Stubborn, on their own roots, would not be as strong without the melding and support of others.  What's underneath may be messy, may be wild, may be turbulent and disorganized, but only such courses can support a tree growing at a slant out of the water on an island.

bringing comfort

how I wish I could send Charlie to every single on of those families.

God be with those sweet babies. God be with those families.

The Nanking Massacre



Have you ever heard of this?  1937?  The Japanese raid this city in China and DESTROY it.  Destroy it's people (literally).  In just the first month, over 20,000 rapes of women and young girls were reported.  Horrifying that this is true, sad that I've never heard about it.

I watched a movie about this (The Flowers of War - last one of Christian Bale on netflix I haven't seen) and my mind was blown.  The story goes that there was a school for girls run by an American missionary that saved literally thousands of lives from rape and death.  The Japanese soldiers raided her school and demanded 13 girls to 'sing at a party' they were having.  Everyone knew, the girls included, that if they left with the soldiers, they would be used as sex slaves for the soldiers and eventually killed.  A group of women taking shelter in the school cut off their hair and donned the girls' school uniforms and went instead. The soldiers never recognized the difference and the women were taken and never to be heard from again. These women were former prostitutes and in my mind, they were heroes.

I immediately started researching it and have become entralled on this horrible event. I watched another film tonight about it that was more of a reading of journals and letters of the missionaries over there that tried so desperately to save so many.  It also included interviews from real survivors and soldiers (of both sides) recounting their experiences.  My hand was over my mouth many, many times.

The suffering and trials the human body and soul can come back from is just unimagineable.  God bless these people and the opportunity they have to share their story.

progress

I was talking to my bishop today, introducing myself and telling him a little bit about me.  It took a while and I thought, 'oh - he will need to know you are sick.'  As in, it wasn't my first thought about myself - as in, there was more to me in my mind than that.  People, that's huge. 

Am I feeling better?  not a lick.  Blood pressure was 78/40 tonight and I am a mess.  Twenty minutes later it was 156/135.  I dare say that is not normal?  My dad kept telling me to go to the er - for what - more degrading judgment. I'll pass.  They will just hype me up on drugs to regulate it and tell me to check with my primary care physician for further treatment (you mean the one that said, 'I don't do blood pressure')? Instead, I am going to sit in my home and be happy. 

You have no idea how wonderful it is to say 'my home.'  I don't own it, can barely half of rent it, but baby - it's mine.  For the last six years, I have felt like such a burden, such a 14 year old burden, that is. My friends have all moved on in life, hitching, hatching, homeowning, as they should - I was not able to progress with them, however (and that's okay! my goodness I am blessed).

Sleeping in other people's homes, eating their food, running their a/c, feeling like a high school drop out with no motivation to get off of the couch was quite hard.  Oh the guilt.  Yeah, yeah - I had my reasons for living with the folks, and I will be forever grateful to them for being so supportive and understanding through all of this, but it is so wonderful to be out in the World, just making it.  There come's a time, that you just need to feel like a normal person, a human being with a little part of the Earth of their own.

My bishop asked me how I am doing in learning the lessons the Lord surely has in store for me through this trial.  I'm really getting there, Austin just may be my medicine after all.

happy.

Someone asked me the other day, 'what brought you to Austin.'  I've been asked this question many, many times.  'A little voice,' I have been replying.  Honestly - that's it.  A voice much calmer, quieter and sweeter than mine - one that can see a whole lot further out than my own.  I listened to it instead of my own for once and wow, what a difference.

Disneyland for doggies

 

 



 I found my spot.  My official favorite spot of this new place.  In Utah, that place is Sundance, in Austin, that place is Redbud Island.  It is a little island, smack dab in the middle of the Brazos, about 5 minutes from downtown. Dogs are welcome off leash, meaning that the minute the car door opens (and that can take a while, this place has worse parking than a baptist church), they are off - free to run through the woods, jump in the river, swim, shake, play all they want.  It is their Disneyland.





As a human, you must like dogs to really appreciate this place.  No, you must love them.  I was shooting some engagments last night and the couple really wanted a scenic, woodsy location.  I suggested Red Bud, yet immediately hearing the chick wasn't exactly a dog person.  You go, you are going to get slobbered on, mudded on, shaken water on, the whole nine yards, and I happen to love it. She ended up thinking it was beautiful but squealed everytime a furry friend came to give her a sniff.   eh - it was good for her.

Woodrow likes the woods and squirrel potential but wont put a toe in the water and if a big lab come running down the path with a big stick in its mouth, he jumps in my arms and shakes like the true warrior he is - we are working on it.

 



I just love this spot of nature in the middle of a busy city, a city I might add, that already has my heart.  I feel like I've come home after a really long time away.