The Day of the Dolphins

"Akrotiri dolphins". Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Akrotiri_dolphins.jpg#/media/File:Akrotiri_dolphins.jpg

We went to Cancun for our honeymoon, and we did everything we could do while we were there……from being in one of the night-time shows at the stadium (definitely a story for another time) to swimming with the dolphins and everything in between.  And though my honeymoon was extremely memorable, swimming with the dolphins was something I will NEVER forget.
When we got to the aquarium where the dolphins are housed, we were given a briefing on what would take place and how to properly handle it.  I was so excited I couldn't stand it.  We sat, (im)patiently through our instructions, put on our life preservers (what on EARTH would we need THOSE for??) and got into the salt water pool that held the beautiful creatures that changed our life.
As we submerged ourselves into the water, a dolphin swam up to us.  If you’ll remember, beforehand I was so excited at the thought of being in the water with them.  When they swam up to us, it was one of the most intimidating feelings I had ever had.  They are large, to say the least.  And you are reminded that if they chose to, they could cause serious damage to your person.  But sensing my trepidation, they went from the fast approach to one so gentle that you immediately knew their instinct is impeccable.  One actually toyed with my emotions a bit and swam around me more than a few times, as though circling its prey!  (Sick sense of humor those dolphins have) 
When I reached out to feel the dolphin, my expectation was a silky smooth texture because of how glossy and pretty their skin is.  But it wasn’t silky at all; in fact, it was a very rubbery-like texture.  Even under the water, my hand skipped along the skin of the dolphin.  I also noticed, though, how strong and muscular this mammal was.  There was no slimy, fishy feel to it.  I instantly felt so small and was reminded that this was a creation of greatness.
Next we were to “ride” the dolphin.  How this works is as you tread water, the dolphin comes up behind you, sticks his snout under your feet and propels you through the water to where your body actually looks as though you are gliding across the top of the aquarium water. 
My turn.  Here I go.
I feel the dolphin’s snout under the arch of my foot.  OUCH.  It was worse than wearing six-inch heels for eight hours!  (Just another reminder how majestic and powerful these creatures are.)  Off I go through the water.  At the end of the pool, the dolphin projects you through the air with one fell swoop of its nose, turns around and heads back to the other end of the pool to pick up the next passenger.  Adrian was next.  I moved to the side, anxious to watch my husband experience the incredible moment I had just experienced.  “Wow!”  I thought as he passed.  “Did I look that awesome??” 
I can tell you I did not.  When our time with the dolphins was up, we of course went to the photo shop and purchased the pictures and video they take of your time with them.  The video brought tears to my eyes.  They set the entire time to Enya playing in the background, splicing it together to show you kissing the dolphin, swimming with the dolphin, and all the while adding slow motion to the mix for a real tug-at-your heart feeling.  BUT – in both the pictures and the video, all you see of me riding the dolphin’s snout is my body smacking the water like a skipping rock and face-planting at the finish line.  ADRIAN, on the other hand, looked like King of the Ocean!  He might as well have bridled the dolphin and worn a crown.  He came out of the water on the snout of the dolphin, arms spread to either side, water beads collected on his tan face, wet hair blowing in the wind of the aerodynamics of the ride, and was catapulted from the snout of the dolphin into the air, landing without so little as a splash.  I’m surprised he didn’t do a pirouette, for cryin’ out loud.  He did amazing and I bumbled through.    
          

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remember it fondly, though.  Truthfully, I can say that realizing we are not the only puzzling creatures created with a purpose had a profound effect on me.  I can say that I was reminded how big God truly is.  I can say that it was a defining moment for me.
As you submerge yourself into each day, intimidated because of every new experience……remind yourself that you are a creation of greatness.  When life is not silky smooth, but rather a little rubbery - when you feel small – like a little fish in a big pond – remember to draw from the Greatness that can lift you up and propel you through the water.  You may look at others and think they are sailing, making it look easy when you feel like you’re bumbling through, scared you’ll land flat on your face.  But remember that those moments are given to us to learn our purpose and be stronger.  KNOW you will look back on it fondly, because you’ll realize those are the defining moments that have brought you through to the other end of the ride.

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Mommy, Will You Marry Me?

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They're the words most girls dream of......the proposal that takes you into exciting nuptials and wedded bliss true love stories are made of; unless of course, they come from your six-year-old son.

When Cameron was about that age, we were in our usual bedtime ritual of bath, brush the teeth, put on pajamas, read a book, say our prayers, tuck that little chubby boy with his curly locks into the sheets and coverlet like he was a sausage-in-a-biscuit, kiss his forehead and say "good night".  Just as I reached the door and my hand felt for the light switch, I heard, "Mommy?"  "Here comes the excuse train to avoid sleepy-time.", I thought.  But instead when I answered, "Yes?" I received this response: "Mommy, when I get older, will you marry me?"  Well, if that doesn't just make you melt, you've no heart in your chest. I know some of you are thinking I sat down on the bed and cautiously explained all the reasons that didn't make sense or how in real life, that would never happen - and if that's what you're thinking, then you're wrong.   "Of course I will" was my response.  He smiled with heavy eyelids, nodded slowly, and faded off into slumber.

You don't forget those moments.  Not ever.  Cameron is 19 now and even as I type this, it is vivid in my mind, food for my soul, and brings tears to my eyes.  Since that moment, I've seen Cameron grow into a man any girl would love to marry.  He has heard devastating diagnoses and taken them with grace, come close to death a few times and testified accordingly, has such a strong faith and is not ashamed to say so, and climbed more mountains than any thrill seeker - and made it to the top every time.  He's so handsome (he's ROCKED both a 'fro AND a faux-hawk), strong like an ox, and his heart is just the right amount of tender.  And this is not the biased writing of the mother of a Momma's Boy, either.

Well......yes, it is.

Now Cameron and I have a very special relationship.  We've stood by each other through thick and thin.  But a few years ago, we were in the car together and I was feeling nostalgic and taking a stroll down memory lane.  "Awww, Cam.  Do you remember when you were little and you asked me to marry you?"  He smiled wryly, and put his hand on top of mine on the middle console of the car.  "Yyyyyeeaa...about that, Mom......I don't think it's gonna work out."  (Not exactly left at the altar, but dumped just the same!)

It is a cute follow-up to an adorable story, I know.  But the story doesn't end there at all.  Cameron continues to do whatever he feels he must to take care of me, protect me, and truly love me.  He is proud I'm his mom, though my mistakes have been many; and I am proud of him as my son, though the frustrations have been, too.

I pray for him daily.  I pray protection from evil and all wicked intent, and I pray he continues to grow in strength in his faith.  I pray he finds the RIGHT woman to marry, one whose faith mirrors his, so that their union is strong and clean.  I pray I can hold those special memories in my heart and mind for as long as I'm alive.  And I pray my legacy is great in his heart and mind as long as he's alive....and I pray he rises up, and calls me blessed.

And of course, I pray he's Mr. Right for the girl of his dreams - that he does whatever he feels he must to take care of her, protect her, and truly love her......and that his proposal leads them into exciting nuptials and wedded bliss true love stories are made of.

Don't take one trial or test of faith for granted.  Even the worst of days are meant to raise you with moxie and help you learn to relish the good ones.  And when a proposal is presented to you, be sure to carefully consider it before saying no.  It could be the transfer of some of your journey to someone else's path, all while building the legacy you leave behind.

Spring Break

Angie from Sawara, Chiba-ken, Japan - CC BY 2.0 File:Mattress Springs.jpg Uploaded by FlickrLickr Created: April 27, 2005

Spring is a time most people consider to be the 'clean-up-clean-out-clean-all' time of year, and I completely agree.  I love any opportunity to organize and clean, and Spring is a perfect one!

I do the typical Spring cleaning, of course, where windows, cupboards, and closets get completely overhauled, but I also like to get down to the nitty-gritty as well.  One of the things I noticed during our OCD Festival, as we like to call it, was our couch and chair in the living room......the usual vacuuming under and beating the dust from the cushions wasn't giving the fresh appearance it was supposed to.  I realized it was because the cushions were 'sinking' some from wear, tear, and age......and some of the springs were broken.  Well, we certainly are in no position to buy an entire new room of furniture so we had to figure something out.

First thought: slip covers.  The more I thought about it, though, the more I didn't like the idea.  It would freshen up the look of course, but the cushions would still be a little saggy and I also happen to like the design of our living room furniture and didn't want to cover it up.

I stood in my living room, sizing up the couch and chair, one hand on my hip, the other scratching my chin in deep thought for quite some time.  It was driving me crazy trying to figure out how to give this furniture a lift......A-HA!  That was it!  Give the cushions a LIFT!

I marched into the garage (Adrian was in there working on all the other Spring cleaning projects I had given him, poor thing!) and asked if we had any plywood.  The look on his face was priceless.  Adrian prides himself on being a member of the Handyman Club (He insists there is a secret handshake) and said, "Of COURSE, Woman!  Why?"  (Picture this as he says it: sleeves-cut-off-t-shirt, khaki carpenter shorts, tool belt on, sweat beads over the brow, hands on the hips and stance in the way of Superman......there MAY have even been a slight breeze blowing through his cape)

So I inform him of my idea.  I asked how long it would take to cut the plywood to fit both the couch and the chair and place it under the cushions.  "Pshhh!"  was his reply.  Well, within fifteen minutes, 'Handy-Man' had measured, cut, and fitted the plywood to fit under the cushions!  I wrapped them in old neutral-colored sheets I had in my blanket box, replaced the cushions, fluffed the throw pillows and it looked AWESOME!  

I suppose a little sagging and drooping is to be expected as we age and each Spring comes and goes.  That doesn't mean we're ready to be disposed of or replaced!  When you're feeling a little down and broken, or like you need to be refreshed, take the time to appreciate your design and do something to give yourself a little lift......it could make the difference in where you sit in life.

Prom Night, and So We Did

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In past blog posts, I've described the wide range of friends we are blessed enough to have.  We don't discriminate when it comes to friendships......it is quite an eclectic variety; however, we are very particular about WHAT we do, and with WHOM.  

For example, there is a couple in particular - we'll call them Mark and Jenny Meirtschin......mostly because that's their name.  They are pretty accepting when it comes to the Garcia Crazy Antics.  Thank goodness.

When I had my 40th birthday party (a story for a future blog post!), it was a 70s theme.  Some of the costumes were amazing, but Mark and Jenny ROCKED it.  They didn't do the regular afro or go-go boots...they came as Prom King & Queen 1970!  The blue-ruffled tuxedo and the polyester dress were fabulous, and at the end of the night, they presented Adrian and I with the sashes they had they made for their costumes.  But that show of kindness would come back to haunt them.  

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A few months back, we all decided we were long-overdue to get together. Adrian and I really wanted to bless Mark and Jenny and somehow let them know how much it meant to us, as we had taken those sashes and hung them in our closet where we could see them every day to remind us of that special time.  What does one do with leftover fake prom king and queen sashes??  Well, they take the people who gave them such gifts to prom, of course!

And so we did.

We sent an invitation, letting them know the dress-code, but didn't tell them why.  We really wanted this to be as authentic as possible, so we decked out Adrian's truck like a limo inside.  Adrian put up white Christmas lights, there was an ice bucket containing various drinks, and we hung a dark curtain between the front seat and the back seat.  It looked pretty legit.

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Adrian and I dressed for prom - mostly from our own prom era, which is scary - put on the sashes accompanied by the fake-but-beautiful corsage Jenny had also given me from that night, and then headed out to pick them up.  When we showed up at the door in our garb and sashes, welcoming them to Prom Night, I thought Jenny was going to drop.  We stood at her front door, laughing so hard and so long until tears were streaming down our faces before a word had even been spoken.  They weren't surprised though......she even said, "I somehow knew those sashes would surface again one day!!"  We had Dollar Store crowns and a fake-and-tacky corsage and boutonniere we had made for each of them, which they willingly put on, and well, it's not a prom unless you stand by the fireplace with your dates and pose in awkward and ridiculous poses...and so we did.

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Next, Adrian ran outside, put on his limo-cap and held up the Meirtschin / Garcia Prom sign (he played the dual-role of the limo driver, too) and opened the doors for them to enter.  

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As we pulled up to our next prom destination - a cliché steak house, of course - they began to remove their crowns.  Oh, no they di'in't!  "It's prom night.  Those crowns stay on."  They looked at each other, remembered who they were dealing with, and obliged without (much) protest.

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In we walked, heads held high, 30-and-40-something-year-olds dressed for prom...and OWNING IT.  We delighted in prom food fare, splitting every dish, laughing and loving it until we were just about sick.  Next destination?  Dancing, of course!  And so we did.  

Luckily, we had done our homework ahead of time and we found a place within walking distance.  And we danced our prom night away.  (Side note on that:  Mark has got some of the best and smoothest dancing moves you've ever seen in your LIFE!).  We drove home, feet hurting, hearts warm and full, with a life-long lasting memory of a wonderful Prom Night.

And so we did.

Make the most of every single moment you're given, and take advantage of every opportunity.  NEVER think you're too cool or be so embarrassed that you miss out on the things that might be considered unusual......and never let a prom night pass you by - so that you, too, can have life-long lasting memories that will make your hearts feel warm and full.

Please and Thank You

© Wisky | Dreamstime.com - Smiling Elegant Girl Making Curtsy At Camera Photo

My husband said something to me the other day that really surprised me.  Apparently, I've never noticed that I say 'thank you' when someone tells me they love me...nearly every time.
Now that he has pointed this out, I've noticed he is absolutely correct.  "Why do you think that is?" I asked him.  And I wonder why it was so subconscious that I never realized I do it.  And it happens no matter who it is that says it, and whether or not I say it first - if someone says it to me first I apparently say, "Thank you.  I love you, too."  Or I can say, "I love you", get an "I love you" in return, and I close with, "Thank you."   I've even gone as far as to say, "...and thank you for that."  It can be my husband, my children, a good friend, family member, and even (and most especially), God.
 

So I started to ponder why this could be.  I've had some pretty cruddy relationships of all kinds in my life - and I've been taken advantage of - and I've been hurt.  I realize that when there is someone I love that loves me, too, I'M GRATEFUL...really, really grateful.
I don't know when this started. I don't even have a memory of ever doing it before, so I have no idea how long I've been doing it.  But I can say I'm glad he brought it to my attention, because I like being very aware of how grateful I am that I'm loved.
 

I know I'm not the easiest person in the world (or even the same house!) to love.  I am obnoxious, talkative, sometimes a little insecure, and somewhat of a control freak.  I have obsessive compulsive disorder, I'm a germaphobe, and I cry about the silliest things.  There are so many more reasons why I'm hard to love, but I ask that you please try...and if you're one of the people that already do......thank you.  I love you, too.
 

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged-Cupid painted blind" ~A Midsummer Night's Dream
 

"Yo, Adrian!!  I loves ya!" ~Rocky Balboa, Sheila Garcia
 

"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you.  Now remain in my love." ~Jesus

My Funny Valentine

© Julos | Dreamstime.com - Fun Chef Photo

Chelsea and I were told to wait upstairs as the preparation began.  We were in our loungy clothes and relaxing as we had been told to do, but we still heard banging and clanking and had no idea what was going on; however, we knew at the end of it a surprise awaited us.  Finally, Cameron came up the stairs dressed in black slacks, a crisp black button-down, and a tie, with a towel draped over his arm.  He said (very formally) "Ladies, I am here to accompany you both to your Valentine."  Chelsea and I looked at each other like he was crazy, and obliged.  He steered us down the stairs and we never could have imagined what our Valentine truly was.

The furniture had been moved out of the living room.  In the center of the room was a bistro table that was set beautifully, with two chairs and candles everywhere.  There was soft music playing and a maroon-sheet-turned-curtain put up to add to the ambiance and make the kitchen separate and a secret to us as to what was going on in there.

Cameron sat us down, welcomed us to Café Adriano, and informed us he was our waiter - the head waiter at that -  for the evening.  He handed us each a menu and told us he would return in a moment with our beverages, one of which (for me, in particular) was wine labeled 'Adriano'.  Uh!!  He was SO STINKIN' CUTE!  We looked at our "menus".  Are you kidding?!?  There are no words to do it justice...the only thing I can do to describe it is show it to you:

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So in and out of the kitchen came Cameron, bringing us our drinks, appetizers, one of the most delicious and thoughtful menu items we've ever had, and beautiful dessert.

Just a few weeks before, Adrian and I had been at a garage sale and saw a chef's coat for 50 cents.  We both thought it would be a cute idea to get it and figure out something to do with it later.  I washed and dried it and hung it in the Laundry Room, thinking we would make that some sort of project later.  The reason I tell you this is because at the end of this wonderful dinner, our "waiter" informed us that we were the meet the master chef who had prepared this amazing meal for us.

Out walks my husband - beautiful man he is with a matching heart -  wearing the chef's coat we had purchased at the garage sale.  He held a white tulip in each hand, and presented one to each of us, telling both Chelsea and I all the reasons he loved us as he gave us each a tulip.  Needless to say, we were bawling our faces off, all in the name of love.

FUNNY how we are conditioned to think Valentine's Day always has to be  about romantic love...it's an opportunity to express true love in any fashion to those around you when we may sometimes forget to during the busyness of our lives.  Knowing Valentine's Day is tomorrow, the first thing that came to my mind for my post today was the selfless way both Adrian and Cameron shared their love for Chelsea and I - as  husband and wife, brother and sister, mother and son, father and daughter.  

Be sure to celebrate all of those you truly love EVERY day of the year - but take Valentine's Day just as a simple reminder of who those people are.

This image is © 2015 by Life As She Does It. Please link back or credit if any content or images are used. 

Flat Biscuits

© Costasz | Dreamstime.com - Making Biscuits Photo

When you cook, do you do it with love?  Do you do it with tender, mindful, care?  Or are you aimlessly going through the motions?  Or maybe you're just task-minded? Maybe you've had a bad day and your attitude reflects that in the kitchen? Watch out if that's you!  ...or your biscuits won't rise.

When Chelsea first started dating Sam (and long before she became the amazing cook she is today) she came to me and said, "I would like to make Sam your home-made Big Daddy Biscuits."  (These biscuits are flaky, the size of your face, and ridiculously DELICIOUS) I was thrilled and quickly agreed.

We made our way into the kitchen, I got the recipe out and I started pulling all the ingredients out of the pantry and the bowls we would need from the cupboard.  She stood there with a blank look on her face, her lips in a bit of an Elvis-curl, and asked what I was doing.  After I informed her that the biscuits don't magically make themselves and there was a little work involved, her face changed.  She was not happy.

I had her read the recipe as I watched (managed), and making sure she did the work since she wanted to make them for Sam.  She begrudgingly added ingredients, fulfilling the recipe with each step.  As she progressed, I kept reminding her why she was doing this...that she originally wanted to make them to show her love for Sam, and to be careful as she was making them because with the attitude she had, the love was lost in the recipe and those biscuits wouldn't rise.  She rolled her eyes and hastily finished, ready to put the biscuits in the oven and be done with it.  As she opened the oven door, I reminded her once again, "Chelsea, stop and remember why you're doing this.  If you put these biscuits in the oven with your attitude, THEY WON'T RISE."  She looked at me like I was nuts (not the first time OR the last time I've gotten that look) and placed the biscuit pan into the oven.  She looked once more at the recipe to make certain she pulled them from the oven in the right amount of time, and smugly looked at me before leaving the kitchen.

DING!  (That was my impersonation of the oven timer going off).  We both head back into the kitchen...she turns off the timer...opens the oven door, pulls out the pan...and...FLAT BISCUITS. 

Boom.

She looked at me and without hesitation said, "Let's do this again."  So we did.  This time, she remembered why she wanted to make the biscuits in the first place, had a smile on her face at the notion of Sam being grateful for her gesture, telling me it was amazing that I knew those biscuits wouldn't rise.  The exact same recipe, a different attitude.  DING! (I'm jumping to the second batch being ready.) Chelsea opened the oven door to the most amazing biscuits that ever existed.  They were gargantuan.  She didn't even bat an eyelash before she smiled, hugged me, and thanked me from the bottom of her heart, knowing Sam would LOVE the biscuits she had made with LOVE.

This transcends into everything you do in life.  It's what you choose to make of it.  The biscuits that didn't rise were still edible, but the second batch were much more than that - they were incredible and delicious.  Make sure you make much of what's given to you to make life incredible and delicious...and do what you do in life with love...or you, too, will end up with flat biscuits.

BIG DADDY BISCUITS

2 cups flour (I use organic unbleached but any all purpose will do)

1 (heaping) tbs baking powder

1 tsp salt

1 tbs white sugar (I use organic. NOTE: agave will work, but they won't have the same texture as with regular sugar)

1/3 cup shortening (I keep old-school Crisco in my fridge...it lasts for years because I hardly ever use it, but it makes for great sustenance in this recipe)

1 cup milk

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.  In a large bowl, whisk together dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar) Cut in the shortening (I actually use my fingers) until the mixture is course and mealy. Gradually stir in the milk until the dough pulls away from the side of the bowl.

Turn out onto a floured surface and knead 20 - 25 times, about five minutes.  Pat or roll dough to about 1 inch thick.  Cut biscuits with large cutter (I use a juice glass, and just flour the rim so it doesn't stick)  Repeat this until all the dough is used. (I take the remnants and put them together, pat it out to an inch and use it, too!)  Brush off any excess flour (gently!) and place biscuits on an UN-greased baking sheet.  Bake for 13 - 15 minutes.  I have my oven down to a science and know that 14 minutes works perfect for me.   These are great with white peppered gravy, or butter, or just on their own!! 

Make sure you add the main ingredient throughout the cooking process - LOVE!

Just Like Camping!

© N.l | Dreamstime.com - Summer Family & Camping Car Photo

It was a few years ago that we decided as a family to go camping for Easter.  We go camping as often as we can, and it had been awhile so we seized the opportunity to go, knowing it would be one of the rare occasions when we would all be together.  (We're a blended family, and not being together often is one of the downfalls.)

We're pretty professional when it comes to camping, and not in a pansy sort of way.  Now I'm not judging all you pop-up campers, or those of you who like to bring along mini-televisions for the electrical outlets that some campsites provide.  To each his own, really.  And we've even gone both of those routes once or twice before.  But we like to CAMP.  C.A.M.P.   Find a spot in the woods, throw up a tent, find another spot close by to your tent, throw up a tarp in front of the hole you dig for a potty for privacy, and don't forget to pile up the leaves high next to the hole so you're not caught without something to clean your bottom with.  Now THAT'S camping.

So we packed up Friday afternoon, sang songs the whole way there, got there by dusk, and made our campsite.  It was a great night.  It was a little cool out, but clear and wonderful.  We sent the kids on the traditional kindlin' hunt to help get our rip-roaring fire going in the fire pit we built from rocks found around the campsite and then ate hot dogs cooked on a stick cooked over that fire.  We sang more songs, told the same old ghost stories, then huddled up in our sleeping bags, hunkered down, and went to sleep.  What a cheesy, awesome night, eh?

I suppose it was around 4am when we heard the first hit of hail.  As I sat up to listen intently and lose the hazy sleep ora, I noticed I could see my breath when I yawned from how cold it had become...what was going on??  What happened to the beautiful clear weather we were counting on??  The hail progressively got worse.  We bundled up the kids in their winter's best (we live in Texas, so winter's best consists of a wind jacket and skull cap) and started to tear down the tent before the hail could.  We watched the hail beat off of poor Jordan's skull cap (which was on his head) and threw the kids in the truck to wait while we gathered everything up as fast as we could and haul it and the family outta there.

Oh, how disappointed the kids were.  They sat in the back of the truck, cheeks red with cold and despair, no more songs in their hearts to sing.  I could hardly stand it.  There is just something about sharing your kids' disappointment, though, that throws you into go-mode.

It was pouring down rain and the hail was coming in droves by the time we got home, so we lit a fire in the fireplace, threw up the pup tent in the living room, got everyone in their pajamas and made s'mores and played cards and board games while the weather ripped and whipped outside, never getting to infiltrate the campsite we had built inside the house.  We stayed the entire rest of the weekend at that campsite, laughing and singing, sleeping in our sleeping bags together, and even went Easter egg hunting on Easter morning.  It was the absolute best camping trip (and Easter!) we had ever had.

Sometimes life can throw a wrench in your gears and mess up all the plans you make.  You can either let it put a chink in your armor, or you can go with the flow and make the best of it.  That weekend, we chose to make the best of it...and it literally became the BEST of it.