Make Yourself That Somebody

For months, my friend and I travel by this one treacherous patch of sidewalk on our walk to school--the place that dips down towards a jagged ravine of rocks and icy water--and say, "Somebody should really put a fence up."

We rescue kids as they slide off the sidewalk, shake our heads and say again, "Somebody should really put a fence up."

As the months go on, we realize how much we say, "Somebody should really..."--whether referring to cleaning the house, fixing something, or generally improving the world.

We laugh about this expression: somebody should really. . .

Who is this Somebody person?  Can I meet her?

It occurs to us that we are the Somebody.  We stop saying, "Somebody should really put a fence up," and we decide to make ourselves that somebody. 

I don't know where to start, so I ask someone at the school who tells me I should "call the county."  (I didn't realize you can call people in your county and get help with things your community needs. You can!)  I look up in my phonebook the name of my township and call the number there.  A man answers the phone, and I explain that children are slipping off the sidewalk and falling into a ditch on the way to school.  Can we put a fence up?

"Yes," he says.  "Let me check who owns that property, and I'll send a crew out today.  We'll take care of it."

I even ask the man if he could make it a nice fence, charming, and not some metal thing with orange mesh reserved for danger zones.

He sends out his crew and builds our fence.

Now, on the walk to school, my friend and I look at that fence and remember to make ourselves that somebody.  

My Charming Fence

She says, "Somebody should really write a book with that title." 

Up the Big Hill Towards School

Somebody should.  If you make yourself that somebody, you can really change something. 

In fact, what initiates my friend's 100 pound weight loss last year is a t-shirt she sees that says, "Somebody should really do something about how fat I am."

She decides to make herself that somebody.

I want to make myself that Somebody in 2011.

Have You Gone Gourmet?

My oldest is turning 9, and we want to make special cupcakes--homemade--for her to bring to school on Monday.

I don't do cupcakes.  The Boo Platter is as fancy as I get.

But it's her birthday, and I'm learning that little things matter and accumulate on the landscape of a child's soul.  Lord help me embellish these cupcakes!   I search for cupcake decorating ideas, and I'm astounded by the beauty and intricacy of cupcakes made all over the world.  Cupcakes have gone entirely gourmet.  In someone's kitchen, right at this moment, some parent has fondant butterflies and flowers neatly trimmed and little bows to tie around cupcake holders.  Another parent has frosting piped out in whimsical designs.

I don't do cupcakes.  I'm the furthest thing from gourmet I can think of.   Can't I just phone the Cupcake Boutique and get this delivered? 

But then, we find a picture of the most curious little cupcakes.  Someone has made a stack of cupcakes made to look just like hamburgers.

"That's so cool, Mom!  Can we make the hamburger cupcakes?"

I buy the ingredients, brace myself, and actually pray for God's creative genius to somehow flow into me.  God invented gourmet, after all.  Nothing is too hard or too elaborate for him.

I move forward.  I bake chocolate and vanilla cupcakes.  I slice them in half.  I let my youngest sprinkle sesame seeds on the cupcake "buns."

Then, we color our frosting to resemble ketchup and mustard.  Our chocolate cupcake is the hamburger patty. 

Hamburger Cupcakes

It takes longer than I anticipate, and we destroy the kitchen.   But I did something gourmet this day.

Gourmet:  elaborate, rich, sensuous, and small.    A small prayer, as small as cupcakes, as small as a child turning 9.  I'll remember this small afternoon as we sprinkled sesame seeds on cupcakes that we transformed into buns.  Living with flair means I learn to be a little gourmet.

PS:  Folks have asked for the recipe, and I actually didn't find a real recipe--I improvised from a picture I found here.
Here are the ingredients: 
1 box vanilla cake mix
1box chocolate cake mix
Sesame seeds
Frosting colored yellow and red

Why I Put My Flag Out

I'm in the garage, and I see our old American flag standing at attention in the cobwebbed corner.  I decide, for 2011, I want to fly it out in front of the house.  We insert it into our flag holder, and it waves in the wind to greet the neighborhood like a long lost friend.  I explain to our children why I want to do this in the New Year.

As a symbol of citizenship, the flag represents a value I want our family to espouse in 2011.  We are citizens--of our families, our neighborhoods, our schools, churches, state, nation, and world.  We live responsibly, honestly, and interdependently.  We give honor to the ones who protect our freedom, and we thank God for the privileges we enjoy.  The flag reminds us to live in a way that embodies the ideals of our local, national, and global communities. 

My husband tells the family that the flag represents that we live for more than just ourselves.

If I had a bugle, I might play an anthem or "To the Colors."  We could salute and show respect in the morning and again at night when we take the flag inside.   At Camp Greystone, where I served as a counselor for 6 years, the flag raising and lowering ceremony can bring tears to your eyes as you observe hundreds of children and adults, still and silent, honoring the symbol of our citizenship.

So I put the flag out.  I'm a citizen of a great nation, and in this New Year, I don't want to take it for granted.  We'll fly it every morning in a moment of stillness and silence, thankfulness and respect.