home away from home

For those who don't know, I was born in Santa Fe, New Mexico.  If you have never had the pleasure of visiting - you are missing out!  The tag line for this state capital is: City Different...and it lives up to that.  On my recent visit I mentioned to my family that one of the things I love about New Mexico is it is hard to tell the homeless people from the millionaires. There are plenty of both, and they seem to have a similar style - disheveled hair, wrinkled, cotton clothing, and sandals. This isn't the only thing I love about New Mexico.

New Mexico is a part of who I am. It is where I was raised. Where I graduated from college. Where I go back to visit often. It holds such a special place in my heart that I decided to dedicate a room in our house to my "homeland."

After it was done I asked Kenyon what he thought. He said, "it looks like New Mexico." Mission accomplished - though I don't think I had told him that was what I was going for, which is even better.

We still have lots of empty spaces, but one room has made some progress.

just Sheri,  amateur decorator

In loving memory: Adra Irene Gettemy

Last week I attended the funeral of my adopted grandma - Adra Irene Gettemy. Known to me as Grandma Gettemy. I will always remember her for her hospitality and generosity. Grandma Gettemy had a long life - she was 97 years old. She had a good life - married for 60 years to a man she loved and alive long enough to be known by some of her great-grandchildren.

Her last few years were characterized by pain, discomfort and discontent. She was ready to go. While she will be missed dearly, the memorial service was a celebration of a life well-lived.

just Sheri, hoping I've met my quota of funerals for a while

blog neglect

An unintended side-effect of blog neglect is a long-standing technology issue. In all the years of blogger use, this was my first issue. For faithful readers, I have discovered (and fixed) the reason for the gray box and missing side-bar. Welcome back to a fully functional blog!

Now, I bet you are thinking...when is she going to post frequently again? That is yet to be determined.

What is a homemaker?

What do you think of when you hear the word "homemaker?" If you are anything like me, perhaps you have an image like this.

Well, if you know anything about me either in real life or from reading this blog then you would know I don't fit that stereotype very well. Until we lived overseas I didn't cook at all. I have no children. My grandma tried to teach me to sew once - we spent years afterward laughing about the experience and my lack of patience for the process. Instead, I thrive in the wilderness. I love travel. I could live as a nomad the rest of my life and care little about even having a place to call home. My comfort level is somewhat unconventional.

If God were to ask me to go to the ends of the earth. I'd say, "how soon can I leave?"

If God were to say leave it all behind. I'd say, "thank you for freeing me (again) of these shackles."

Why? Because I am comfortable on the adventure, living life on the edge with little to hold me down.

Ironically, God is asking me to be a homemaker. Frankly, I am not even sure what that means and the thought of it scares me a little bit. I have been asking people I trust - what makes a home? I honestly don't know.

I assume it begins with having a stable place to call "home." Then filling it with things that make it feel like a "home." But, I am sure it is more than that. This is where I am stuck. What makes a home?

Can you help?

just Sheri, totally out of my comfort zone

Easter memories...

To celebrate Easter this year, I didn't fill hundreds of eggs with candy or prizes and hide them around my yard. Though, I have done that in the past.

I didn't have the privilege of spending time with family, because I still live too far away.

Image: by rduris via openclipart

Instead of these traditional holiday events, I opted for a variation on the theme. I was part of a group of individuals who put together baskets for the people who are hidden in plain sight because they live in the woods. We went to an area I frequent often because it is next to my favorite grocery. None of us had been past the paved road and in to the trees.

Behind branches and leaves is what could best be described as a neighborhood.  Folks were doing yard work, or sitting in Adirondack chairs in the sun. Some had dogs as pets. Some are known for their practical inventions. Others described their prior evening sharing tea with a friend in front of the television. All would be labeled homeless because they live in tents in the woods on "borrowed" land.

Our baskets consisted of goodies like candy, homemade cookies, Wal-mart gift cards, warm socks and bug repellent.

There is a moment I will never forget. A moment I stole a glance at that was likely not meant for public consumption. One of the couples thanked us for our holiday gift. As we were on our way out, he opened his zip-lock bag of cookies and took a bite, then broke off a piece and fed it to her. It was a tender moment. This couple may have been discarded by a "civilized society," but for that moment I witnessed caring and sharing. It is the gift that I took with me when we walked back out to the hustle and bustle of the city.

just Sheri, touched by the tender side of humanity