My Mother had a strong believe in God, although she couldn’t answer the assault of questions I asked her. I don’t remember seeing or hearing her pray; and she stopped sitting on the edge of my bed to listen to mine, when I was around that age that a child would stop believing in Santa.
As you might have guessed from the tone above, I had identified myself as an atheist even at age four, although I didn’t have a word for it then. I continued to go to churches and read the Bible through four times by the time I was fourteen, but not because I recognized a need to believe, because every one of those years I had a slight disdain for those who did.
I had a vague LONGING to know for sure, and this got stronger until I found my Heavenly Dad.

All my growing up years Mom would call out to me or my brother from some place in the house. We’d answer thinking she was calling us to stop what we were doing and help her with a dinner or outside in the garden. Usually though she’d say something like, “I was just thinking of you. I love you very much!” or “I don’t need you right now but I appreciate your help whenever I ask. I love you.” Just simple statements made at the moment they came into her mind. Those statements beamed deep inside me.
How often do we catch a thought slipping by like: “What a beautiful day!”, “I love indoor plumbing”, “I’m so glad I can listen to music whenever I want to.”, or “John is just great!”
Do you ever talk with your hands, throwing them around excitedly or making stabbing punctuations?  Why not put our hands together and thank our Father in the middle of the day for no reason except to say I love you and thanks.   nancymauerman.com

Excellent Solutions # 2 and 3. The door to my plant room was closed by accident with my cat inside. So when the litter box couldn’t be reached and the need was urgent she moved a flat sheet of fake moss out of a tight corner and situated it in an easy to see and clean up place. The cat used it and waited patiently for me to discover her. When I did she showed my our problem which I cleaned up complimenting her on her brilliance. Great solution!
Mr. Emmitt encountered a life changing dilemma at a Portland bus stop in the early 1900s. He met Zalia and fell in love on the spot! So rather than take his bus he stayed and talked. The both let their buses pass them by for an hour and a half but then she needed to leave. He accompanied her home and they talked even more.
It seemed she liked him too but told him after a few hours he had to leave. She had a date!
So Emmitt had a problem; and the solution. HE WENT WITH HER ON HER DATE! He “protected” her for years and years.  nancymauerman.com

Sometimes it’s exquisite to not know a phenomenon. Imagine this; a small piece of land grated flat. It parallels the street as if someone widened that street a little bit for just 50 feet; it’s a place to park two cars end to end. There is no garage, so this is a good idea. The street’s on one side of the parked cars and the land shoots straight up for 25 feet on the other- right angle- straight up! It looks like the sharp cliff edge of a dirt glacier. Sitting on top of the cliff is a small house. The front of the house is a continuation of the dirt glacial wall. The dirt rises straight up and turns into the siding of the house. There’s not even one inch of front yard. The front door opens to a 25 foot drop; a big first step!

There are only two small pieces of yard: one in back and a very narrow strip along one side, and  each yard is surrounded by high fences. Instead of another side- yard, the house slams up against the bare wall of a two story building; they shared that wall.

To address the front door’s sudden drop- dilemma a tall ladder leans against the 25 foot dirt wall to replace stairs, of course it’s positioned exactly below the front door. The ladder seemed to work for the occupants for three years. But, ONE day, as John and I drove by, we saw the ladder was MISSING! For the longest time we wondered, “How did the people get into their house. Maybe, every day, they went through the neighbor’s yards, climbed the high fences, and entered a back door. It was months before a new ladder appeared, and  it was CHAINED AND PAD LOCKED TO the bottom of the front door stoop. What a beautiful solution.

We still wonder: how did the pizza delivery man manage, was it impossible for a teetering old grandma to visit, if you bought your loved one a sizable birthday gift how would you get it up the ladder, wouldn’t be fun to buy a very large couch and have it delivered, and  would your dog look forward to his daily walk?  nancymauerman.com

John F, not my John, is an artist who is the only man I know that can make an architectural drawing full of spirit. As well as being a draftsman and painter he’s an amature astronomer. He loves the sky and has often encouraged me to look up and add skies to my art. Thank you, thank you John! For the last several months I’ve looked up and I’m a changed woman! I’ve heard about beautiful skies since I was seven, knew painters loved them but had not learned. I go slow but I’m on my way.

A man, I greatly admire, compared fear of failure to a body builder whose afraid to lift weights. When we award a metal to everybody, because we’re afraid to disappoint, we’ve hollowed out the dumbbell. We don’t evaluate, learn, or grow unless we fail.
In Science News I discover thousands of new ideas, almost too yummy to stand, and almost every one is attributed to people not born in the USA. As I taught I asked my teens, year after year; if they could’ve been born with any skill what wonderful things would they love to do when they grew up. I eliminated failure but even then I always got the same answer, “Oh, probably accounting, to make a lot of money.” Now I don’t want to disparage accounting but no one DREAMS of it!
Then there’s John who, as a kid, made a pet of a water rat , ten years ago grounded a lightning rod in our bedroom (for an elaborate reason I didn’t understand at the time and can’t remember now), and yesterday said, “I don’t know anything; but can’t remember it.” One of my goals, in writing books for big and little kids, is to stretch minds.  nancymauerman.com

Many writers keep cats, my two tap my leg, “interrupting” my work about every fifteen minutes and for several hours every day. They want me to follow them to their food bowls. It appears they want me to notice they’ve eaten the top three pieces of dried food off their stack and want at least three pieces replaced. I wonder, though, if they aren’t simply saying, “I love you; please notice me.” They’re also a joy and I write and illustrate books and paint so much better when I’m happy.

Poor John. He and I speak of deep things, and as we come to a stop he leaves to bring a few more bags of groceries in from the car. I, with my back turned, put carrots in the frig and make a further comment on the afore mentioned conversation, so John, who’s reached the front door again, turns on his heal and returns to the kitchen. I repeat my great insight. He listens, makes a comment and leaves, which reminds me of something, so I verbalize my thought as I fold a paper bag. He returns from the front door again, because he didn’t hear this one either. We talk and he leaves. I have a completely new insight! John returns having never even touched the front door knob. It’s a good thing he didn’t buy ice cream.
When he’s finally successful at bringing in another bag I say, “It’s unfortunate for you that I like you so much!” He looks confused not exasperated. “If I didn’t LIKE you so much,”  I say, “I wouldn’t be so GREATLY INSPIRED or have so much to say or be such a nuisance!” He laughs, understanding his great value.
I wonder if God is more productive the MORE we interrupt him.  nancymauerman.com

John gets to do the dishes and laundry and does a better job than I use to, but differently. All the hours he gives me by putting our house in order buys me time to create my books. We used to argue over who gets to do these jobs.
“They’re MINE!” “No they’re not! You had your turn yesterday!” “Too bad; first one there gets them and I’m faster than you!” “ Ha, ha, ha, I got here first. Too bad for you!” was usually what I got to say because I’d push John out of the way to get to the sink of dirty dishes. And no, we don’t throw them against the side of our neighbor’s garage. We wash them by hand in the sink. I miss the job for several reasons:
I’ve heard many writers say, “House work is SO much easier than creating a story. I’ll just revacum again and think about my blank pages and plot.
The process of writing and illustrating a children’s book is complex, takes months or years, and is convoluted, with many parts mixing, changing places, coming, going, and sometimes coming again. But dishes; you just do them and they’re they’re done! The FEELING OF ACCOMPLISHMENT is immediate.
Who doesn’t like to play in water anyway? In John’s case, also artistically, because he arranges the dry dishes in beautiful heaps and patters.
And who doesn’t like a good “That’a boy!” If I don’t notice John kitchen sculpture he says, “Did you notice I finally did the dishes?” I stop what I’m doing, rush in and admire the finished project.
It feels good to arrange pieces of things into a shape,  an orderly form. After all it’s a semblance of God’s creation of the universe. Then of course the washer gains the God- like quality: JOB SECURITY! God’s creations are without end and so is housework.

What a nice gift I give to John by allowing him to do housework! What a great gift of time he gives to me by doing them!  nancymauerman.com

Several ladies in my quilting group tell of family get togethers where adults sit in a big happy circle with crawlers and pre-crawling babies in the center for entertainment. When the babies fuss cell phones are laid on the floor. No not to call out for pizza or order the newest binky, but these little children remember from times before which phone has the better features!
Ding, ding! A light when off in my head. Download ‘Bearos’ and ‘Dragon’s Tale’ on phones to entertain your crawlers in the grocery checkout line.  Remember; GYMWEB! Grow Your Mind With Excellent Books! You can’t start too soon if they are already ingesting technology.

I love Amazon because they offer the free Kindle reading app for your mobile cell phone.  Check out the Kindle App page.  nancymauerman.com

Do you remember the very good and the disappointing books you owned as a kid? Many people speak of them the same way they do their favorite teachers. Good and mediocre books are part of your fundamental make up. And when you read out loud to kids you’ll be changed again. You are what you eat and what you verbally and visionarily injest.
‘Which Witch Was Which?’ was my favorite, but it made my Mom sigh the first time she read it. Every other line of the three page story used the title’s words. I loved the word play but MY MOTHER did not.

If I found my Mom where she was hiding after I asked for ‘Which Witch Is Which?’ she’d read the story faster than the guy on T.V. who rattles through small print disclaimers! And she wouldn’t stop when I begged her and she had a kind of evil glint while she gave me my fix.
Another favorite was ‘The Stead Fast Tin Soldier’ in which every good character dies a terrible death. My youth was filled with gruesome lose so this book was real where cute mice in tutus was not.
My challenge to you is to feed the very best books to yourself and children. Grow Your Mind Though Excellent Books. GYMWEB!  nancymauerman.com

‘Dragon’s Tale’ is a book containing the anatomical tail of a dragon, plus three tales in one story. For children ‘Dragon’s Tale book is about being a cherished part of a family an and adventure book. For adults it introduces fun parenting ideas.. “Parenting” is a state of mind, whether you’re related to the young or not. I ask all you piano teachers, wouldn’t it be fun to celebrate Rock Day with your students?

I’ve heard professional women on TV discuss women being almost traitorous if they stay home with their kids but when the professionals are pressed everyone admits, “IT’S TOO HARD A JOB TO BE A MOM so I leave when I can.”
It’s a hard job being a kid too. And most do it with more grace than I would if I’d been put down in a new country today and tried to learn a new language ethics and culture as fast as I could. It was exhausting. Is that way time seemed slow as when we’re in pain? I remember being seven and thinking, “Time drags. I can’t wait to GROW UP.” I promised myself I’d figure out what age number ‘grown up’ was and starting on the first day of that special year I would not learn one single thing more!  Later watching my parents decided that learning and doing was fun but I’m learning slow. Does learning fast stretch time slow?  nancymauerman.com