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I'm still writing; you just won't find me here any longer. If you want to keep reading my writing, head over to mollyflinkman.com. I'll keep a cup of coffee warm for you.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010


word of the day: summertime \ˈsə-mər-ˌtīm\ the summer season

Have you ever driven over a lake on a hot day and watched the boats below with envy? Envy knowing that you are driving somewhere way less fun than spending the day soaring across the water with the wind in your face? Last weekend, as I looked up at the cars crossing the bridge I was jet-skiing underneath, I couldn't help but think, "Ahh, yes, summertime is finally here." And a glorious realization that was.

Every time I think of the word "summertime" I want to say "summatime" for no apparent reason. And so, the theme of this post is summed up best by Kulay's words in his song "Summa Summatime." Take it away Kulay...

You know it's on
Everybody's feelin' kinda happy
Everybody's smilin' baby
And everyone's lookin' good

The sun is shinin'
You and I know it's a good thing
There's not a cloud up in the sky
Sunny sunny days make you feel alright
Here comes the good times
That comes with the sunshines
The vibe makes you wanna smile
And you just dont know why
It feels so good
Just watching the time fly
For miles and miles all I see is blue skies

Cuz it's summa summa summa summatime
Summatime Summatime and I'm feelin alright

A cold cerveza in my hand
To relax to the max is the master plan
Its the time of the year I love the best
Time to rest oh yeggy yes yes
The top is down, my shades are on

Everything's moving kinda slow
Everyone's struttin' what they got
Cool as the weather gets hot

Everyday feels like the weekend
Anytime is the right time
As long as we're together baby
As long as the sun shines
Bring it on bring it on

Cuz it's summa summa summa summatime
Summatime Summatime and I'm feelin' alright

Ooh Summa Summa Summatime

Thanks, Kulay. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010


word of the day: hopeless \ˈhō-pləs\ incapable of redemption or improvement

As you may recall, Ginny is a pretty high maintenance dog. She follows me around the house without hesitation. If I even shift my weight on the couch, her head is on high alert, and as soon as I stand to my feet, she does the same. In the morning, while I'm getting ready, she watches me from the corner of her eye. If she hasn't heard me move for awhile, she'll lift her head just to make sure I'm still there. You can imagine, then, that leaving her alone is not an easy task. She has to be carried to her kennel, and then her barking, whining, pawing, and shaking must be ignored in order to get out the door and on with the day.

To say the least, sometimes it's a bit frustrating, because I just can't figure out how to fix my poor dog.

But, then, just when I'm at my wit's end with her, I remember the first time I saw her behind the glass at the Animal Rescue League on that cold, uninviting tile:

When I remember those initial sad eyes and the hopelessness that she radiated through the glass, my frustration melts away almost instantly. She needs me, and that's enough reason for me to look past her shortcomings as a dog.

I've recently been realizing my own shortcomings lately. I've seen my tendency to use my own self-pity as a license to be insensitive to the feelings of other people. I've seen specific times when I've lacked compassion and allowed bitterness to grow within me.

Although necessary, it's never fun to come face to face with your own sin, because, for me, it comes with feelings of shame and hopelessness. It's shameful to know that I've acted in a way that dishonors God and the hopelessness sets in when I think about making the situation right. Can I really change a character trait I have been fighting against my whole life?

That's when I remembered the picture of Ginny behind the glass. Just when I think God can't possibly forgive this recurring sin, I remember her sad eyes and how they always dissipate my disappointment. It's then that I wonder whether or not God has His own picture of me behind a glass wall. A picture of the hopelessness of my soul before He redeemed me. A picture of our separation before He was such an important aspect of my life.

Now, I'm not trying to open a theological can of worms or even suggest that the simple fact of my pathetic, sinful nature is enough to rescue me. I just can't help but wonder if God is ever reminded of who I was before He entered my life. If He ever smiles thinking about my own sad eyes and how He is the one who replaced them with hope.

Jake seems to think that we'll never fix Ginny. He's convinced that we'll be washing pee off of her feet for the rest of our lives. That may be the case, but either way, I think we'll be ok. There's always hope, right?

Sunday, June 20, 2010


word of the day: bob \ˈbäb\

"Bob" can have a lot of meanings. Kids love to bob for apples around Halloween. My mom has a really cute bob haircut right now. You can buy bobbleheads, bobby pins, and use bobbers when you're fishing. For the sake of this Father's Day post, though, Bob is simply the name of my dad.

If you've never met Bob, you're missing out. He's one of the best people I know, and I wanted to take this chance to share just a few of the things I love about him.

I love that my dad used to wear awesome glasses. Once I tried them on in his bathroom, and was shocked to see how much I looked like him with them on.

I love that my dad taught me how to roller skate, ride a two-wheeler, and throw a softball. He even consented to putting back on my training wheels after I had already mastered riding without. I can remember very vividly throwing the softball in our back yard and riding my back around the neighborhood while my dad ran behind.

I love that my dad never put limits on the number of books I wanted him to read me. He would read me as many books as I could handle in one sitting, and I have fond memories of giggling uncontrollably while he voiced Mucky Moose. I believe that my love of reading today is because of the amount of time I spent reading on my dad's lap or next to him in his bed, and I'm thankful that we share that passion.

I love that my dad has a great sense of humor. I had some friends in high school who used to say that you could probably hear my dad laughing all the way to China, and really, it might be true. He doesn't take himself too seriously and can always put a smile on your face.

I love that my dad makes people feel important. He's genuine, sincere, and cares about the conversations he has with people.

I love that my dad constantly seeks after the will of the Lord. My life would look very different if he had not followed the call to Des Moines Christian. Because of my dad's example of faithfulness, I learned from a very early age that even though it's sometimes scary, the path God paves for you is always best. I'm not sure I could have learned that on my own.

I love that my dad has always empowered me as a woman. When times are scary, new, or unsure, my dad's voice is always in the back of my mind saying he's proud of me or that I'm ready to tackle whatever new adventure is ahead of me. There's just something about your dad rooting for you that boosts your confidence significantly.

I love that my dad can pull something positive out of every situation. He's quick to see the good in people even if they have wronged him and uses experiences as teachable moments. He helps you put life into perspective because of the selfless way he approaches every day.

Frankly, I could go on and on about all the things I love about good ol' Bob, and when i think about it, my Father's Day feelings can be summed up in one word: pride. I am so proud any time I get to tell people that I am Bob Stouffer's daughter, and I know that I will only continue to appreciate him with time.

Thanks for everything, dad. Even that time you swung my chin into the gym floor. It makes for a good story.

It's only when you grow up, and step back from him, or leave him for your own career and your own home—it's only then that you can measure his greatness and fully appreciate it. Pride reinforces love.
- Margaret Truman

Thursday, June 17, 2010


word of the day: mango \ˈmaŋ-(ˌ)gō\ a tropical usually large ovoid or oblong fruit with a firm yellowish-red skin, hard central stone, and juicy aromatic pulp

These are mangoes:

I don't particularly like eating mangoes. I think they taste kind of bitter, and if given the choice, would choose any other fruit to ingest.

Ironically, though, I enjoy all things mango flavored. At the coffee shop (my current place of employment), my favorite type of T-Zing to make is mango. I love mango popsicles and I think once I even bought mango flavored gum. Now, it doesn't compare to my pomegranate obsession, but I do love a good mango flavor.

I still hate mangoes though.

My friend Holli LOVES mangoes. This is Holli:

Holli loves mangoes so much that one time in college she changed the meaning of the word. From that day forward, "mango" meant "awesome," and we would say to each other, "Have a mango day!" She even made us bookmarks. This is the bookmark:

I had a pretty mango day today.

I set my alarm for 6:30 this morning, and it went off right as a thunderstorm was gaining some good power. Rain seems to be a common theme here in Des Moines, especially in the morning, and it's never a good start to the day when you have to get out of bed to a dark and dreary sky. Storms are so much more enjoyable when they lull you to sleep. As I kept snoozing my alarm, I realized that I didn't have anything to do that was more important than that thunderstorm. And so, I let the sound of rain put me back to sleep.


I got to see one of my best friends today. Ironically, after this post had already been started, she and her boyfriend brought over a bottle of mango margaritas. Add that to the list of mango things I love. As we sat around our kitchen table eating tacos and a pretty mean batch of homemade guacamole, I was reminded of how sweet friendship is. I have been very blessed to have friends who withstand time and distance. It's so refreshing to just pick up where you left off regardless of how much time has passed.


I helped another long-time friend get her wedding favors squared away for her big day this Saturday. We tied "thank you" tags onto Granny Smith apples, and I wished and wished that I would have thought of something that creative for my wedding.


Raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries were on sale today. I also selected a close to perfect watermelon to compliment the ninety degree weather.


Come to think of it, maybe fruit was the theme of today.

"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." John 15:5

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control." Galatians 5:22-23

I experienced all those fruits in some form today, whether given or received. Once again I am thankful for a glorious summer day because it has simply reminded me of how good God is and how beautiful, joyful, and delicious his creation often is.

With that said, may your day be the ultimate mango.

Monday, June 14, 2010


second word of the day: diligent \ˈdi-lə-jənt\ characterized by steady, earnest, and energetic effort

My lazy Monday morning didn't last long. As soon as I finished my previous post, I was hit by a wave of motivation. It was the kind of motivation that you have to take advantage of because it doesn't come around very often. It's a sort of turbo motivation and when it comes, I never let myself sit down because I'm afraid it will go away.

I started by making a dent into an online class I've been procrastinating.

From there, I moved to the kitchen. I whipped up some tuna salad for Jake's lunch and some hummus in the food processor for mine. Then, while I was in and out of the refrigerator, I couldn't help but notice how many tupperwares full of moldy food were inside. So, I cleaned out my fridge despite the gag reflex it kept giving me.

But then it smelled like rotten food in my kitchen, so I baked a pan of brownies.

It sounds like one of those "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" books, doesn't it?

The juxtaposition (maybe that should have been the word of the day) of my day got me thinking though. Was I wrong to start my day out today with such "laziness?"

The Bible doesn't have much good to say about lazy people.

Lazy hands make a man poor, but diligent hands bring wealth. Proverbs 10:4

The lazy man does not roast his game, but the diligent man prizes his possessions. Proverbs 12:27

Yikes. Was my afternoon more pleasing to God because of my diligence?

I don't think so. God showered me with a blessing this morning. I was able to enjoy a morning with few obligations and the unusual weekday presence of my husband. I was able to accomplish some things without feeling the stress of deadlines. I was able to ponder, once again. how God's hand is on every aspect of my life.

I didn't deserve it by any means, but I'm thankful for my lazy, diligent, rainy, sunny, dirty, clean, warm, and cold Monday. In some form, it was all those things.


word of the day: lazy \ˈlā-zē\ encouraging inactivity or indolence

It is a lazy summer day.

How do I know?

Because I woke up at 7:30 only to spend an hour editing pictures of one of the most beautiful babies in the world.

Because my coffee cup is half full of cold coffee. I couldn't bring myself to walk the ten steps to the microwave to heat it up.

Because the remains of my morning oatmeal are hardening in their bowl as I type.

Because Ginny can be found in her regular perch by the window sill.

Because the sun is not shining and rain is expected at any moment.

Because my hair hasn't been done since I rolled out of bed.

Because Jake's sitting on the couch reading and drinking coffee. We especially enjoy these unexpected weekdays to spend together.

Because there are piles of laundry placed around the living room waiting for their turn in the washer.

Because I'm writing this blog post when I should be reading, cleaning, folding said laundry, etc.

Life's good today.

Thursday, June 3, 2010


word of the day: sun \ˈsən\ the luminous celestial body around which the earth and other planets revolve, from which they receive heat and light, which is composed mainly of hydrogen and helium, and which has a mean distance from earth of about 93,000,000 miles (150,000,000 kilometers), a linear diameter of 864,000 miles (1,390,000 kilometers), and a mass 332,000 times greater than earth

I LOVE sun. If I could emphasize the word "love" even more in that sentence, I would.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how many things in my life the sun touches, and how much better each day is because of it. Summer isn't even officially here, and yet, I am already finding so much joy in all the ways I feel the presence of the sun.

I see the sun in the lilies that adorn my coffee table right now. I see the sun in the Red Stripe bottles they bask in, because beer seems to play a larger role in the summer. I'm not a beer drinker myself, but I enjoy watching bottles perspire as people pop the top on an especially humid day. There's just something refreshing about it. Plus, they make really fantastic vases.

I see the sun in the peonies on my kitchen table and I smell the sun in the fragrance they produce. I love the brightness that fresh flowers produce and if I could always have a bouquet somewhere in my house, I would.

I saw the sun at the Farmer's Market on Saturday where I bought the previously mentioned peonies. I saw it in the sun tan I left downtown with and in my hair when the work of my straightener did not last. I saw it in the water a nice lady offered to a panting Ginny and when the man told me people were bound to give me compliments because of my peonies. Nobody gave me compliments. The sun kept on shining anyways.

I see the sun in flip-flops and my newly formed flip-flop tan line. I feel it as the dew soaks my toes when I take Ginny outside early in the morning. I appreciate the sun at 5:45 in the morning for not making the waking up process so unbearable.

In case you're wondering, that's first position you're looking it.

I see the sun in Ginny because she spends a lot more time laying on the cool tile inside our house. If she's not on the tile, then she's usually perched on the window sill behind our couch. Jake thinks she's a "cat-dog," but I think she just wants to be nearer to the sun (and to me, because she's still totally over-attached). Here is how she sits as I type this:

I saw the sun when I walked out of a Saturday matinée of Robin Hood last week (which you should see if you haven't already). I see it in the smell of a burning grill and pool chemicals in our back yard. I see it in my new pitcher full of Country Time pink lemonade and in the iced caramel macchiato I treat myself to occasionally. I see it in Jake's face, because anytime he gets to be outside in the sun he beams like the sun itself.

And so, I will forever LOVE the sun.

Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy's inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.

-Summer Sun by Robert Louis Stevenson