Miscellany Monday: Things I'm loving right now

Linking up with Miscellany Monday with some things I've been loving lately:

Victorian mysteries: I can't remember just how I stumbled onto Anne Perry's Victorian mysteries, but I keep going to the library to get more!  I started with reading a couple of her Thomas and Charlotte Pitt books.  Then I discovered her William Monk series, and there's been no turning back.  Excellent storytelling, Victorian ambience, and vividly drawn characters.  So far, I'm loving them!

Interestingly enough, the writer herself was convicted of murder in 1954.  Complicated story, but I'm sure it gives a mystery writer a certain edge!

Bel Vita Breakfast Biscuits:  I am so loving these tasty, filling cookies.  They make a great breakfast on the go, or having a couple of them with coffee or tea for a snack.  They're very satisfying and nutritious!  Trouble is, I can't find them everywhere.

Getting together with friends:  Whenever I go for a while without a get-together with friends and/or loved ones, I feel it.  I NEED these times.  On Saturday, my husband and I went with our friends Tom and Kari, and my brother-in-law and sister-in-law Verlyn and Beth, for a late lunch at the wonderful Maggiano's restaurant in Schaumburg.

The food was delicious and the fellowship was wonderful.  Resolved: to make a point to get together with friends more often!

Kari, me, and Beth

Ross Dress for Less:   I had shopped at Ross in Texas, and was happy to see that a store finally opened where I live.

I am so impressed with the selection and the prices!  Recently I bought an awesome Levi denim skirt, which I will wear the heck out of all year long, for $19.99 (the suggested retail price was over 40 dollars.)

And you know how I've been wanting to wear a hat?  (Well, you know now!)  I found the cutest hat, that I'm going to wear for Easter, for $8.99!  Ross is awesome!

So those are just a few of the things I'm enjoying right now.  You can participate in Miscellany Monday too!

From the Archives: My Best Friends

Beverly, me and Lisa

(Originally posted January 2, 2011)

The other day, I took a quiz that asked me who my closest friend(s) were. I didn't have to think twice to come up with the answer: my sisters, Beverly and Lisa.

My sisters and I share so much that I have a hard time even expressing it. We encourage each other, support each other, pray for each other.

They both live far away from me, so we cherish any time that we can physically be together. We laugh like crazy, sometimes cry a little, but always have an amazing time. They are two of the funniest women I know!

Beverly and me

We talk to each other on the phone regularly...and have even gotten into texting each other a bit.

We can completely be ourselves around each other, and tell each other pretty much everything. We are each other's biggest fans and cheerleaders.

Me and Lisa

I also adore my younger brother, and he holds a unique place in my heart that no one else could fill...but he's most definitely not a woman. My sisters can empathize and understande me as women.

My husband, who I love with all my heart, is also a wonderful friend; but again, there's just something about a sister that's different from any other friendship.

I'm thankful for my sisters...my best friends.

Source: bing.com via Cindy on Pinterest

The Fragile Curtain

A near-tragedy on Thanksgiving Day recalls a meaningful book--and a vivid truth

Nearly thirty years ago, I read a book that made a huge impact on me. It was The Fragile Curtain, by Karen Burton Mains.

Shortly after reading the book, I did a radio interview with Karen, and I've never forgotten it, or the message of the book.

Life is fragile. The curtain separating us from life and death is very thin.

Karen had written the book after a trip to refuge camps around the world--and the near-death of one of her children-- deeply impressed her with that truth. This from her website:

In the spring of 1980, Karen made a traveling survey of the refugee camps of the world. She went to interpret the pain and suffering of these people; instead they showed her the meaning of her own life—and of yours and mine.

There in the crowded refugee warehouses, Karen saw the beauty common to us all. The wonder of birth. the sacredness of words— "I love you," "I'm sorry," "I want you." And the joy of a welcome home: the glad clamor of hello as a new group of refugees arrive at a camp, resurrected from death and despair to begin again.

The six-week journey became a pilgrimage through two worlds: the one of the camps and the thousands and the backyard world of home and family.

Karen wrote:

"I have lived all my life behind a fragile curtain, formed by the small worlds I know: backyard worlds, the familiar ground of home and work.

"Illusion is my curtain's name, the illusion that all is well, that I am safe. Neither is it mine alone. . . .

"We all live behind a curtain of our own illusion. Seeing, we do not see..."

Several times in my life, I've come face to face with the fragility of that curtain. This past Thanksgiving Day was just such a time.

Around 6 PM, we were laughing and eating and enjoying the fellowship of our friends Ray and Teri and their children.

Around 9 PM, we were in the emergency room of a local hospital after Ray collapsed while playing basketball. For hours, we were uncertain if he would live or die.

Thanks to CPR given to him by his son and a friend of the family, the timely arrival of EMT personnel, and many prayers, Ray is indeed alive today.

Ray suffered a major heart attack. Yesterday a stent was inserted when an angiogram revealed an artery was 100 per cent blocked.

While Thursday night we were frightened and tearful, tonight we laughed with Ray and praised God for miracles.

As I'm sure anyone who has had a heart attack knows, Ray and his family have a long road ahead as they deal with the aftermath of this traumatic physical event. But Ray is with us, he knows us, he is living and breathing and smiling.

Once again, I am powerfully struck with the immense importance of family, friends, and relationships as we travel this earth.

This quote from the back cover of The Fragile Curtain sums it up very well:

"Karen dares us all to look at our own lives: to assess the good-and the bad. To celebrate the joy and the blessing of family life. To be thankful that despite sorrow and suffering we dare to begin again."