You’d think Fred would be pleased his dress shoes are years and years old but he isn’t. They still look practically new he still likes the style, they are the most comfortable shoes he’s ever worn but the left one squeaks. Fred, John’s brother, has tried everything to quiet them but every week the shoes rang out loud and strong as he walked through the quiet chapel.
Finally Fred could take it no longer and decided they were no longer going to church. He couldn’t just throw them away they were still good. He decided he’d wear them daily for a year, wear them out, and throw them out. He worn them around the house for a year but they didn’t wear out. The next year he wore them to mow his lawn, then he fixed his car in them, he even built a couple of houses wearing those shoes.
You don’t wear shinny black dress shoes to do those things and it bothered him but he figured he’d finally wear them out.
Years later his shoes are still comfortable and in good shape. They still look GOOD. And they still squeak at the feed store, the lumber yard and at home under a car.
Big Feet Quilt
Aren’t we taught to plan, to diagram, or make a flow chart if we’re serious about a project? We think out each step, set realistic primary and secondary daily goals, and weekly, yearly goals etc. I do this but not always.
I saw the pink cakes wearing tutus in a dream. The dressed up cakes sat in nests which rested on branches of one tree. Sometimes, like in marriage, I start with a good idea but don’t know at the beginning what the next step is or where I’ll end up. When I make a picture I paint step one then look at that step one for days, weeks and sometimes years before another message comes.
Sometimes in life I plan completely before I start but find I make changes as I go. At other times I start then wait for the next step in His plan. I’m under the illusion that I’m more in control when I follow an intellectual flowchart. But these plans are ALWAYS modified and they are only successful when I mix intellect with inspiration, intuition, faith whatever you might want to call it. Maybe it was this fear and vanity of not controlling the plan that prevented me from getting remarried for so long. nancymauerman.com
Cakes In Tutus In A Tree
“Things change a few years into a marriage,” I heard my entire life. For my husband John and I this happened in a way I didn’t expect. Over thirteen years later the spark is stronger, the glow is still there, and the romance is just as creative but vegetables have changed.
At first I’d hear John on the phone talking to his Mom saying things like, “Yes she’s still wonderful. She’s even getting me to like eating vegetables!” John’s no longer packing the carrots and spinach in. The veggies went away but the glow didn’t go.
If people ask why I glow, is it my diet? I answer it’s John. nancymauerman.com
What’s it called when you can’t remember things? nancymauerman.com
When I was young we weren’t poor until we got a T. V.. All of a sudden we saw a car we’d never have enough money to buy. No one we knew could buy one either but instantly we’d become poor.
Now I’m older, have a little more money but I’m terribly rich. My income hasn’t changed so much as the inside of me has. nancymauerman.com
You want me to what? Stop eating pizza and cookies? The picture below shows my face if this had been the admonishment and order given to me but Fred Mauerman wasn’t distressed.
Fred is my husband’s older brother and the fire department he once worked for announced that he was too heavy in relation to his height, he was told, “Fix the problem,” but Fred was in no way stressed.
The health team weighed him months later and found the same weight. He was sternly confronted and asked, “Have you even worked at losing weight?” “No,” he answered, “I’ve worked at growing taller instead.”
Fred just came for a visit and packed in plenty of pizza and cookies. Statistically speaking I would not have liked to have been his boss but noting his creative problem solving skills I would have felt confident if I’d been a damsel distressed. nancymauerman.com
Why hadn’t Mr. Ed Woods been voted one of the best film makers of all times; his scenes are burned in my soul. Yes, I know the writing was stiff, actually bad, so was the directing and acting BUT I was surprised to find things he produced ring in me still.
I watched the move Ed Wood and remembered many of his images from flipping through channels or previews because I’ve never seen a Wood movie all the way through, yet the mix of thoughts and feelings I had then came roaring back. I moved through time. Like Beethoven’s ninth, once heard always remembered, even if you don’t like classic music. I knew the places he took me like I’d been born in them.
There are very few award winning good movies that have done this. John remembered the segment with the two policemen, then the one scanning over gravestones, he went on and on.
Wood’s movies are brilliant pieces of art and communication. Another Ed, Edvard Munch sent messages this strongly too and no one faults him because his brush strokes aren’t smooth and orderly also no one complains that Van Gogh’s flowers don’t, “look real.”
These men are brilliant in a couple of ways. First intent; the creators were desperate, desperate to communicate. The second; they had the ability to expose the real person without being careful, or covering up to prevent the self from hurt. Maybe my definition of GOOD needs an expansion. nancymauerman.com
Sometimes I don’t know my food is burning until I can’t see the computer screen for the smoke. I have often disassociate and can’t smell or taste things and get tired of food without a taste. So I bought one hundred per cent pomegranate juice for variety. I was thrilled I could taste it but they crushed more seeds than fruit. That stuff is so astringent my teeth curled and I stood on my head. nancymauerman.com
My neighbor’s mother looked beautiful without hair. I first met her when she came for a visit and they were both walking Doc my neighbor’s dog.
When my neighbor and her husband went to work I invited the mother over to play. Play that day was creating the cover to ‘Eagles and Banana Peels’ a children’s book I wrote and illustrated and she helped with her opinions.
Today flowers and a thank you card were left on my front porch from my neighbor, her husband and Doc their dog. My beautiful new friend had died and the picture of me below is brightly colored because I’m touched by my neighbor’s kindness but the lines of me feel loss. I feel the hole in the world with where my friend had been. nancymauerman.com
The woman on this my hand sewn quilt is Kathy a friend of mine who has normal sized feet. For years in my quilting group we has six ladies named Kathy and five named Amy and a few with other names. Occasionally someone would step in the room and call,”Kathy?” and half of the group would answer. nancymauerman.com