Today while watching "Yo Gabba Gabba" with my sweet 3 year old, it hit me: a yearning.
No, it was not for DJ Lance Rock. Although I am sure some women find spindly-limbed black men with fuzzy orange hats appealing.
It was a yearning for a world I do not live in.
See, on Yo Gabba Gabba, as on all preschool shows, gentleness reigns. So does cooperation, kindness, fun, optimism, courtesy, and lots of singing and dancing. On top of that, problems will simply and assuredly be solved by the end of the 23 minute program.
Utopia.
As I watched the characters on YGG respond to each other with enthusiasm that only comes from never experiencing pain, I pondered. When will my daughter discover that some people are unkind? Even cruel? My heart shudders at the thought.
And then I thought of my own natural friendliness, which I have toned down over the years in an effort to avoid cold responses.
I yearn, I long for a world like Gabba Land. For an optimistic, gentle world. I will take Blue's Clue's, Angelina Ballerina, Sesame Street, Thomas, Dora, Diego, the Backyardigans, and yes, I will even take Barney. Just feed me with kindness!
It takes just a short while for preschool gentility to fade away. TV shows and movies for the elementary school set, from what I have observed, are full of snarky & sassy talk, bullying, and adults portrayed as buffoons. How quickly the emphasis of innocent enthusiasm, consideration for others, and gentleness evaporates!
Some would say that's preparation for "real world".
I don't want the real world. I endure it because I must, but I yearn for something purer.
Someday, which will be the day I see my Daddy again, I will know the fullness of purity. But until then, I will not stifle my yearning. I will cherish every glimpse of kindness, gentleness, enthusiasm, respect, and happiness that I find.
Even if it comes from Yo Gabba Gabba.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
Cinnamon Jumbles
Cinnamon Jumbles.
That was the name of the first recipe I ever made. It produced soft, cake-y vanilla cookies with a cinnamon & sugar crust. Simple cookies. Simple preparation. But significant in my life.
Why? Because that first baking experience, at about age 7, began a life long passion for preparing and eating food. And more importantly, those Cinnamon Jumbles taught me how food can cement and deepen relationships.
You see, my Grandma taught me how to make those cookies. Her name was Rebecca Helena Fisher--my mom's mom. Grandma was a thin, gentle, and feminine woman. Everything about her was kind--her soft voice, her attentiveness, her laugh. Her hands were soft, yet skilled. She was an excellent seamstress and a good cook. A hard worker who partially raised 3 children by herself in an era when single moms were unheard of. She loved life, loved people, loved pretty things, and loved to travel.
And she loved me.
I loved her back. It was easy to do.
It's been almost 20 years since Grandma left the earth. I think of her from time to time, and when I do, the strongest memory is that of her lovingly teaching me to make Cinnamon Jumbles. That was our thing. Our bonding activity. We enjoyed the activity, and we enjoyed each other in the midst of it.
To me, food is relational. It beckons families to spend an hour or two together. It summons girlfriends to dump their hearts onto a table along with some tea and cake. It calls generations to use their hands in common effort to produce a result that will not only gladden, but also nourish. It sings to the younger as the older teach lessons and traditions.
Today, with my 3 year old daughter on a stool beside me, I followed a recipe. It wasn't Cinnamon Jumbles, for that recipe has been unfortunately lost. (Plus, my tastes have refined over the years....Would I even like them today?) It was angel food cupcakes with strawberry buttercream frosting. Matching aprons were worn. Powdered sugar flew. Beaters were licked. Lessons were taught.
And love was deepened.
Thank you, Rebecca Helena Fisher--Grandma--for Cinnamon Jumbles, and all they have come to mean to me.
That was the name of the first recipe I ever made. It produced soft, cake-y vanilla cookies with a cinnamon & sugar crust. Simple cookies. Simple preparation. But significant in my life.
Why? Because that first baking experience, at about age 7, began a life long passion for preparing and eating food. And more importantly, those Cinnamon Jumbles taught me how food can cement and deepen relationships.
You see, my Grandma taught me how to make those cookies. Her name was Rebecca Helena Fisher--my mom's mom. Grandma was a thin, gentle, and feminine woman. Everything about her was kind--her soft voice, her attentiveness, her laugh. Her hands were soft, yet skilled. She was an excellent seamstress and a good cook. A hard worker who partially raised 3 children by herself in an era when single moms were unheard of. She loved life, loved people, loved pretty things, and loved to travel.
And she loved me.
I loved her back. It was easy to do.
It's been almost 20 years since Grandma left the earth. I think of her from time to time, and when I do, the strongest memory is that of her lovingly teaching me to make Cinnamon Jumbles. That was our thing. Our bonding activity. We enjoyed the activity, and we enjoyed each other in the midst of it.
To me, food is relational. It beckons families to spend an hour or two together. It summons girlfriends to dump their hearts onto a table along with some tea and cake. It calls generations to use their hands in common effort to produce a result that will not only gladden, but also nourish. It sings to the younger as the older teach lessons and traditions.
Today, with my 3 year old daughter on a stool beside me, I followed a recipe. It wasn't Cinnamon Jumbles, for that recipe has been unfortunately lost. (Plus, my tastes have refined over the years....Would I even like them today?) It was angel food cupcakes with strawberry buttercream frosting. Matching aprons were worn. Powdered sugar flew. Beaters were licked. Lessons were taught.
And love was deepened.
Thank you, Rebecca Helena Fisher--Grandma--for Cinnamon Jumbles, and all they have come to mean to me.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
here we go...
I have been considered blogging for...oh...several months. Why? Because all day long thousands of thoughts, ideas, questions, comments, and opinions roll around in my head, and I feel compelled to put them somewhere. Sometimes I put them on my husband, who patiently listens most of the time. Sometimes I put them on the pages of my journal, but that could be problematic when, after my death, the journals are found and scandal ensues. Sometimes I put them on my fabulous girlfriends, who listen intently, get enraged with me at just the right moments, and then sweep in with comfort and affirmation. (Girlfriends are brownies to my soul. Not chicken soup--especially not chicken soup from a can.) But ulimately, after spewing forth these words onto aforementioned husband, journal, and girlfriends, I am still left with approximately 7, 853 words a day (rough guesstimate) that have nowhere to go. Hence, a blog.
Wow. I feel relieved already just getting these words out.
So, off I go! (That's sounds British, doesn't it? I love those Brits, their emphasis on tea, and their period dramas. I do not care for their teeth, however.)
What can one expect from my blog? I shall tell you immediately. One can expect many adjectives, for those I love. One can expect food, for the prepation and consumption of food is one of my life's chief joys. (That love was passed to me from my precious late father, who consumed food in the manner of Bill Murray's character from "What About Bob?") One can expect talk of my swarthy Italian husband, my exhuberant little daughter, and my charming & naughty cat. One can expect talk of movies, artsy things, and celebrities. Because, you know, the Oscars are my Superbowl. One can expect analytical, psychological talk, because I have a couple of degrees on that stuff, it's what I do for a living, and I find the human psyche endlessly fascinating. One can expect opinions on many exhilerating topics, because, well, I have opinions on most stuff. Sometimes they are scandalous. (Well, like twice in my life I have posted scandalous opinions on Facebook.) So those are the main topics.
I vow that my blog will include no discussion of sports (except for how bewildering they are), cleaning (because I don't really do that. Scott Ticen does.), politics (because I just don't wannoo.) or...well that's it. All else is fair game.
Eeek! I am uber excited to spew forth the weighty words that swirl around homeless in my head all day! Onward!
Wow. I feel relieved already just getting these words out.
So, off I go! (That's sounds British, doesn't it? I love those Brits, their emphasis on tea, and their period dramas. I do not care for their teeth, however.)
What can one expect from my blog? I shall tell you immediately. One can expect many adjectives, for those I love. One can expect food, for the prepation and consumption of food is one of my life's chief joys. (That love was passed to me from my precious late father, who consumed food in the manner of Bill Murray's character from "What About Bob?") One can expect talk of my swarthy Italian husband, my exhuberant little daughter, and my charming & naughty cat. One can expect talk of movies, artsy things, and celebrities. Because, you know, the Oscars are my Superbowl. One can expect analytical, psychological talk, because I have a couple of degrees on that stuff, it's what I do for a living, and I find the human psyche endlessly fascinating. One can expect opinions on many exhilerating topics, because, well, I have opinions on most stuff. Sometimes they are scandalous. (Well, like twice in my life I have posted scandalous opinions on Facebook.) So those are the main topics.
I vow that my blog will include no discussion of sports (except for how bewildering they are), cleaning (because I don't really do that. Scott Ticen does.), politics (because I just don't wannoo.) or...well that's it. All else is fair game.
Eeek! I am uber excited to spew forth the weighty words that swirl around homeless in my head all day! Onward!
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