Some assembly required.

Snowmen fall from heaven... unassembled. - Anonymous

I thought this quote fitting given the state of my sidewalks and the streets I had to drive through this morning to get home.

When I was a kid, we lived in North Dakota for a couple of years. While the frigid temperatures might drive some mad, it was a magical time for me. We learned the value of being able to spend time outside. We learned that it's okay to go ice skating when it's ten below and the wind chill is dropping rapidly. We learned that some of the best moments are the quiet ones, watching the snow fall together, wrapped in blankets near the heat spewing from the register. We learned to appreciate the snow days... and the days that we actually made it to school.

Something that I didn't realize back then was that the tools for a good life, for success, for happiness, were already at hand. No, that's a recent development.

You see, we are all capable of making the decisions necessary to move forward with our lives. We have the tools to learn what needs to be learned to enjoy success. We all are capable accepting the past and the outcomes of the future. We all are worthy of happiness. It's a choice.

The gifts of heaven are showered upon us when we enter this world. All we need to do is use them. Yes, we are like the snowmen. And like the snowmen, some assembly is required. Thankfully, we have all the gizmos, devices, means, and implements to do the job.

Let's play pretend!

Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be. - Kurt Vonnegut, Mother Night

I have some very distinct memories of pretending as a kid. I remember being a princess, being the Wicked Witch of the West (possibly the most fun), being a pilot, being a damsel in distress (hanging off the cliff that was my bunkbed), and being a cashier at McDonald's (I'm not kidding). It's safe to play pretend when you're a child; you know that if you don't like what you're doing you can always become something else. There's no worry about changing careers, going back to school, finding the money to go back to school, worrying about success and failure. When you're a child, these things don't exist - they are merely the figments of adult imaginations.

Which makes me wonder: do we have this thing all wrong?

Maybe the starting of being the thing we really want to be is in the pretending. The confident stance, the image of that success, the feel of that accomplishment, even if not achieved already, can only push us towards that endeavor. If things don't work out exactly as we'd hoped, we can change our minds and do something else or start again. Life isn't a fixed state. So how can we be?

People debate what "time" really is - an illusion, a mental construct, a tangible measurement? Is it relative or constant? I really don't know. You could listen to a dozen different physicists and still have no real answer. But if time is an illusion (and it could be), then the person you might be lies within you already. I think.

Grandma's good cooking

What is patriotism but the love of the good things we ate in our childhood? - Lin Yutang

Lately, I've been thinking about my grandmother's cooking. When I was small, and her fingers still agile, she would make me and my sister these delightful little animal-shaped pancakes (without the use or convenience of additional utensils). There would be raisins or chocolate chips for eyes, nose, and mouth. Sometimes, ears or appendages were made from fruit. And the taste... heavenly.

There were so many things she made in my childhood in Minnesota, that she doesn't or can't make anymore due to age. I remember home-made ketchup that packed a nice bite, and stews that contained ingredients that years of guessing would never yield. Whenever eating in that home, I always felt as if she had worked hard to create something that would provide health, as well as enjoyment. I suppose the love she instilled in her cooking was the one component that was never missing (or in short supply). I do miss that.

After all these years, the food consumed at my grandparents' home remains my strongest and best memory of my childhood. Thoughts of those meals brings me back to days when life was simpler (for myself if for no one else). And for whatever the reason, that feels like missing home.