A Simple Woman's Daybook. 3.25.13

It feels like a Daybook kind of night. So I'm linking up here:  A Simple Woman's Daybook.

FOR TODAY

Outside my window... we are waiting for the predicted "dusting to an inch of snow."  However,  considering the track record of professional weather forecasters here in Maryland, we probably should have bought a generator today.

I am thinking...about all the things on my DIY project list.  Yesterday I posted a biggie (framed pegboard) that I'm eager to start. But, on a much smaller scale--with a higher priority--is a sewing project.  Today my future daughter-in-law brought me the fabric to make the  pillow that the 3-year-old ringbearer will carry. Oh, my goodness, he is going to be so cute with this little 7x7 thing! (For the record, no, he will not be carrying the actual rings!)

I am thankful...that I have not been sick for the entire winter.

In the kitchen... on the table, is a bouquet of flowers I bought myself for my son's 25th birthday. After all, if it weren't for mothers, how would children be born??

I am wearing...a plum-colored cotton V-neck tee from Lands' End.  So comfy I ordered two more--one in white, one in royal blue, and I wear all three QUITE a bit. I also am wearing some black pants and red indoor/outdoor slippers.

I am creating... a new craft/guest room, and having so much fun.

I am going...to show you the shields that my art class created for the school play. The director "commissioned" us to produce eight shields, each to fit a 20x20" space, with heraldry, Maryland colors, our school logo, a likeness of our county's seal, and a cross/tree combination. Here's how they turned out. Sorry for the poor  photo quality. I couldn't get a good angle, didn't have the right setting, and was surrounded by a crowd.  I created one of the shields. See if you can guess which.

 

I am wondering...if a heel spur is what I have. Terrible pain in my left heel and it's been like that for going on two months or more. I've kept thinking it would get better, but it's gotten worse. It affects my gait, my posture, my productivity, and my mood. I think it's time to see a podiatrist and hope he doesn't tell me bad news.

  

I am reading... a few different books:  Power Thoughts, by Joyce Meyer; Followed, by Elaine Dauber Thornton,  Simple Secrets of a Beautiful Home, by Emilie Barnes.

I am hoping...that April is as warm as March has been cold.

I am looking forward to... the "seaside ladies' retreat" in early May.  It's been many years since I've been on a retreat, and my soul is thirsty for a spiritual lift, fellowshiping with other women
(I only know a few from the church we've been attending since Christmas).  And I can't think of a better place than on the Chesapeake Bay.

I am learning...that letting go of children as adults is its own kind of labor pain. 

Around the house... is much less clutter, thanks to my giving up "stuff" for Lent. Feels good!

I am pondering...getting involved with a particular "homeless" ministry of sorts. It's called Samaritan Women and is a home for young women, a beautifully restored Victorian mansion on 23 acres. The women,  who have been rescued from sex trafficking, suffering from PTSD from combat, or physical abuse, find hope and healing at this Christian farm. They are also taught to grow their own food, as well as how to prepare nutritious meals from it.   This place has all sorts of needs and ways to offer help. I would like to volunteer to teach a six-week, once-a-week art class. Creating beauty is a big part of the healing process.

A favorite quote for today...

Acts 4:12 Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved."  (NIV)

One of my favorite things... is finding notes like this, written by my 11-year-old boy.

A few plans for the rest of the week:

 -Monday : wash mountains of laundry, finish an mixed-media art project, build a snowman snowbunny?
-Tuesday : attend Passover seder  (anyone got a good recipe for a carrot dish--no leaven, not a dessert?)
-Wednesday:  teach a class
- Thursday : work on my craft room
-Friday: attend a Good Friday service


A peek into my day...  for lunch we ordered the second thing from the top on the right of this menu. My daughter likes to call them Hoochie Mamas. 

Simple Woman's Daybook 1.27.12

Needing inspiration today, I'm using a favorite slice-of-life meme from a blog called The Simple Woman's Daybook.

Outside my window...
It's rainy and grey, or is that grainy and rey? My head is as foggy as the mist that hovers over the earth this morning.

I am thinking...
about all the things I want to improve-- internally, externally, maternally, you name it. If it's got a "nally" at the end of it, I probably want to change it.

I am thankful for...
the commitment that my husband and I have to each other, and for God's sustaining grace in our marriage. I am proud of my man, and feel secure in his love, even when the hot water heater of life isn't working. By that I mean, on some days the marriage feels like a cold shower on a winter morning--you're tempted to jump out before the job is done. But on most days, marriage is like a warm bath--soothing and healing to the mind, body, and soul. Either way, you're naked and need a good cleansing to be the best person you can be for another person.

From the kitchen...

the pantry screams, "Reorganize me!"

I am wearing...

a pink Myrtle Beach hoodie and burgundy sweatpants. Pink is not my color at all, and I actually had to buy a pink accessory to wear to my future DIL's bridal shower. The invitation said, "Wear pink, black, or a combination of both." So I found a hot pink boa at a thrift shop for $3.99 and paired it with black and white I had. Pink is really not my color, but a warm pink hoodie on a cold January day is better than any alternative available this morning.

I am creating...

perhaps a small quilt in the near future. My husband thought of me yesterday when he heard about a quilting club that makes quilts for needy babies. At least I think that's what he said; I was half asleep, but smiled at his thoughtfulness. I told him I've only made three quilts in my life and that I'd feel nervous joining a quilting club with my elementary skills. But making quilts for needy babies is certainly motivational.

I am going...
to yank the air freshener out of the wall plug. Too much of a good thing is giving me a headache!

I am reading...

The Water Giver, by Joan Ryan

Best book I've read in a long time, it's the true story written by a mother whose 16-year-old special-needs son suffered a traumatic brain injury while riding a skateboard without a helmet. Up until the accident, she had never really felt like a nurturing mom, but one who was preoccupied with "fixing" her child by shuttling him from one therapist to another, reading one book after another to try to change him into a "normal" son, rather than just being the mother he needed. It took nearly losing him for her to accept and love him the way he was.

The book is written by a journalist, so I appreciate the factual medical lingo she includes, as well as her emotional tone. A couple of times she drops the "f" bomb, so I wouldn't give it a 5-star rating for language.


I am hoping...

for a good blizzard soon.

I am hearing...

the whirring of the mini-heater's fan blowing inside and the cling-clang of the wind chimes on the deck, and the pitter-patter of not-so-little dog feet hopping around the tennis ball that Reilly Pup is entertaining himself with.

Around the house...

I see nothing but projects and repairs calling out to me and Mr. Fix-it. A kitchen makeover, a master bathroom makeover, a broken table leg, drawers in disarray, the Youngest's bedroom to be converted to a Baltimore Ravens nest. The second son moved lickety-split into the vacated older brother's room when he moved out, and it is already painted, thanks to him and his girlfriend. Best part: it cost nothing. He was content to use a calm, handsome (like him) blue paint we already had, and I can't for the life of me recall where we used it. That blue exists nowhere in the house. Stranger things have happened.


















I asked Ambrey to stand there like a model doing a paint product photo shoot. Isn't she cute?
























One of my favorite things...

is finding a handwritten note in my mailbox, either at home or at school. Yesterday I got a thank-you note at school from parents who pick a different teacher each week to pray for. They go a step further and write a note, which the secretary delivers to our boxes. I must've read that thing three times in one hour. Such encouragement on a day I was pondering bad news and big, unexpected expenses.

A few plans for the rest of the week...

The rest of the week? Since today is Friday, that's a short list for a change. Tonight I am going out for Chinese with my former co-teacher and friend, just to catch up on life. She's an excellent listener and an engaging talker. A good conversationalist. The funniest part is predictable when it comes time for us to pay for our meal. I take the check, try to figure who owes what, hand it to her for verification, and then she quotes a line from a movie: "It was my understanding there would be no math."

Tomorrow is a "free Saturday," which means there are no outside obligations on the calendar. But make no mistake, there is no such thing as a free lunch or a free Saturday. Hubby will find plenty of work for us all to do around here.

A picture thought I am sharing...
After the bridal shower, we went for Dee's dress fitting. My daughter started looking around and called me over to check this one out. She called it her dream dress. Well, she couldn't keep a straight face and she was snorting, so I knew it was gonna be ugly. Well, not ugly, just outdated and straight-laced, no pun intended. "Modest is hottest," she said, doubling over laughing, and then snapped a picture of me (in aforementioned pink boa) giving the dress the "oh yeah, baby, what a beaut" look.

Need Supernatural Power to Overcome Natural Procrastination

Okay, so once again I've gotten my bowels in a bind from procrastinating. (I've actually been working on my resume' and cover letter which took a lot longer than I anticipated, but it's finished and submitted!)

Did I mention we're having a little ole' family reunion right here at our place next Saturday? Well, that sounds like I have time to get things in order, but our house guests (relatives from Ohio) are landing here I think on Wednesday.

I don't know about you, but I tend to think I have WAY more time than I actually do. In addition to the things that never quit--laundry, dishes, and meal-making, I also have a nifty little list of Things to Do in 4 Days:

Repaint son's room
Finish painting lamps
Clean house top to bottom
Clear junky stuff off patio and deck
Paint porch
Weed gardens
Plant more colorful flowers on deck (I'm thinking photo ops)
Bathe the dog
Lose 82 pounds
Get a haircut
Get a mani/pedi
Make curtains for family room
Make pillows for sofa
Grocery shop

Think it's doable? Me neither. I think my priorities are food, hair, hands, and feet. My gnomes can handle the rest, right? Oh, wait. They said the 4th of July starts today and they've got plans to take off. And none of them goes by the name Jillian Michaels.

God, give me the grace to do what I should've started 3 weeks ago.

Family Reunion Frenzy

Funny how one little Facebook message can propel you from slow-mo to full-speed-ahead. I was in slow-mo as long as I was just thinking it'd be nice to have a family gathering of all my husband's brothers and their spouses and offspring, since it has been quite a long time. Paul is turning 50 in a few days, but he is anti-party. Seriously, remember the day The World Was Supposed to End last month? The next day he said to me, "Good thing that wasn't my last day on earth. I did the three things I hate most in all the world: helped someone move, did yard work, and went to a party."

Naturally he had to meet and marry someone who celebrates things like having Ten Great Nails at the Same Time.

Anyway, back to the Facebook message. I clicked on a message from his oldest brother who lives in Ohio. It said, in short, they're coming to visit the Maryland/Delaware contingent of the family the week of July 4th.

No sooner had my reply, "Great! Can't wait! " and "Paul's 50th" were out of my mouth--er--into the keyboard--that it has come to my attention that we will be hosting a Not a Party But Family Reunion. We have the privilege of being centrally located (okay, not centrally, but between!) the family branches north and south of us, and have room enough to spread out.

This Not a Party But Reunion looks to take place on probably July 10th!

One of his brothers said, "a crab feast and beer" to celebrate everything from the summer birthdays to the kids' leaving, to Ben's engagement, to family coming in from out of town. Things like dentures and Depends got (dis)honorable mention as well in the prep department.

Why is it that words "out of town guests" make you look around your house and declare everything old, ugly, dirty, or in need of fixing up? Seriously! Our carpets look like dropcloths. The sofa pillows resemble matzah. And every door that squeaked or pipe that groaned yesterday is suddenly shrieking and bellowing today.

So, a family reunion in less than three weeks' time to plan! That's how we roll. If this family had a year to put a reunion together, we'd still put it off till the last three weeks. If we had all summer, we'd pull it together on Labor Day. But we plan rather abruptly after long hiatuses (hiati?). Someone either dies suddenly, or someone sends a two-line message: "We're coming in the week of __________." Then all of a sudden we clear calendars, counters, and carpets of as much clutter as we can and thrust ourselves into Planning Mode ,which usually starts with "what to eat? what to eat?" and "How can I whip this house into shape in three weeks after talking about it for three years?".

Hence I am looking around the house, and in the mirror, and seeing outdated things that probably won't or can't be fixed in three weeks' time. But that's okay. We need to get together. Someone just had to get the proverbial ball rolling. And someone else gets to clean like mad, spruce up the yard, maybe paint a bedroom that's about seven years overdue, and send out a mass email listing all the what-to-eats and whatever else she deems important, like date and time, perhaps.

When It's Time to Change, You've Got to Rearrange

Does anyone remember that song from "The Brady Bunch" ? The kids wanted to audition for a radio song by singing something together. But there was problem; Peter was going through puberty and his voice was changing. The change was embarrassing because his voice would crack mid-song . The solution to the embarrassment was to change songs, and they actually wrote a new song for the audition. Rather than fear the hormonal change, they emphasized it with spunk and humor.

The only lyrics that stick with me from their song are these:

"When it's time to change, you've got to rearrange."

Every time they said "change," Peter's voice would crack. (A little too predictably, but hey, it's television. Creative licensing at its best. Or not.) It made for another episode of can't-get-enough-of-the Bradys for this Greg-smitten girl.


At this juncture of my life, my "voice" is cracking, too. The way life's always been is about to change. We will be parents-of-the-groom in the spring, both vehicles (mine and my hubby's) have about 112,000 miles on them, the mold-ridden master bathroom must be remodeled for health's sake not vanity's (although we are getting a new vanity, tee hee), and our youngest son will most likely be attending a private Christian school in the fall. Oh, and yes, we want to go to Italy for our 25th. I think I've mentioned that a time or two! And we want to do something substantial for my parents' 50th.

Like my husband, I see a whole bunch of dollar signs.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$


If we are to continue with our goal to live within our means, then I have to start supplementing the income. And to be honest, I am ready. I am ready for change, to get out of the house more, be in a social environment, find work that I pray is fulfilling, not just "a job," and still be able to care for my home a few days a week. (I do like being at home, and I'm not a "career-minded individual" by any means. I just want to be busier enriching other people's lives, and contribute to the family coffers now that it wouldn't mean neglecting children's needs.)


That is not the only change for which we are about to rearrange. I want to start now by giving up some computer time for higher priorities. I haven't been doing a good job of homemaking lately. I haven't gotten in better shape physically. I haven't gotten involved in serving outside my home except for Sunday School once a month and the occasional meal taken to a sick person's family or to help someone out with child care. (My parents thus far have been self-sustaining, running each other to the doctor and skipping about town...well, as much as two arthritic seventy-somethings can skip.) In short, life has been too comfortable and it has proven detrimental. This "comfort" has added to, not relieved, depression. Isolation is not good.

So for the coming several weeks, I'm rearranging my priorities. A little experiment, you could say.

I want to
-do more fun things with my nine-year-old
- tackle the nagging jobs of cleaning and organizing around the house
-scrapbook some more
-find the fixtures, paint, tile, etc, for the bathroom job
-meet with friends face-to-face, on purpose, for girl-time
-concentrate on the being the kind of wife I'd want to be married to if I were him
-look for meaningful work for the new school year
-exercise 4x/week for starters and eat better
-spend time in prayer and Bible study, not just "devotions"
-limit blogging to 2 days/week, Facebook just 30 minutes a day (yes, computer time has been in control of me, not the other way around, and that form of "socializing" is not healthy)

Soo...my voice cracks now.

Sing with me, Cindy, Marsha, Jan..

When it's time to change, you've got to rearrange.

-

-

"Tennis (Ball), Anyone?"

A couple weeks ago I got a kick out of watching my hubby trim trees. Not that such a thing is normally entertaining, but just seeing how our dog, Reilly, took advantage of every sit-down break The Man took, cracked me up. To know the dog means to be acquainted with OCD, Tennis Ball Version. I perched inconspicuously from inside an open window above, shooting and grinning. The dog: perpetual optimist, ever hopeful that someone wants to throw the ball as often as he wants to retrieve it. No matter they got work to do. Could anything be more important than playing?

To the dog's great joy, The Man did throw a ball when he was sitting down. The rest of the time he carried that big stick around and reached up into trees. Are there tennis balls up there? Is that what he's looking for? How about that long stick that he uses to scrape at the leaves. He is trying to find tennis balls, right?

Letting Go of the Past, Literally

This week is Spring Break for my kids. No college classes, no homeschool. So naturally I enlisted their help to work on some deeper stuff around the house. The two without full-time jobs joined forces in the garage yesterday. What a disaster it was. Stuff stored from long ago. Trash from the night before. Recycled boxes piled up higher than my head. A defunct washing machine. An old medicine cabinet. Furniture that a couple of (packrat)extended family members have said they want back when we're done with it. (I guess to join the junky furniture it matches? I'm tempted to "forget" to return it, but on my honor, I will do as promised.)

Then there was the crib.

"Mom, can we finally get rid of this now?" I have said no for years, thinking I would pass it on as an heirloom. But it's really not in the best shape. And it's Jenny Lind-style, "so 80's." And yet I hung on and hung on to the memories attached to the crib. It was my parents' gift to Paul and me for our college graduation/baby shower gift. Our firstborn's crib. Our second-,third-, and last-born's crib also.

It was special.

Yes, it was. But I realize it is not special now. The children are special. The memories are special. But the faded wood, the broken hinges, the rusted metal? No. They're not special. They only represent the who-and-the-what that made it special. The time in our lives 23 years ago when we became parents was marked by magic, mystery, and mayhem--usually all in the same day.

As I looked at that crib, a rush of questions and statements flooded my mind. In about three seconds flat, I thought these thoughts:

1. You let your rotten womb go. Can you let this rotten crib go, too?
2. You're not letting go of your love of your children. In fact, they're ultimately loving you by helping you let go of stuff. Will you accept that?
3. Won't you prefer to give your children brand new cribs for your grandchildren, the same way you wanted a brand new crib for your babies? It's not like Paul hand-carved this crib and sanded it for four months. He's not Pa Ingalls.
4. You can pass on the legacy of faith in God's provision, not the legacy of fear by hoarding. How about that?
5. You're not the one who can create life and breath anyway. But you CAN create breathing ROOM. Remember how good that feels?

So, with a flash of courage--actually the courage God has been instilling in me for several months--I said, "Okay, go ahead. Take it. Unless--" I faltered as Sarah lifted the large front part of the crib, "unless you want to keep it for your babies?"

She quickly replied, "Uh, no thanks.I'd rather put my babies in something they're not gonna fall out of."

We both laughed, and that was that. She loaded it into the van. Steve put the rest in beside it. I have raised decisive children. And wasn't that something I prayed for when their tiny heads slept in that crib? That God would give them strong intellects and help them make wise decisions? That they wouldn't repeat the mistakes of their mother and father? That they would trust Him for their every need? Despite my example of clinging to things with one hand and to God with the other, my children are much less clingy to things and have more faith than I did at their age. What a blessing!

Letting go the past, literally, on the very day I was celebrating the birth of my firstborn, felt doubly good. God never takes from you what he doesn't replace a thousand-fold.

Having Said That...

My last post leaves me wondering if I'm content or complaining about my kitchen. So let me say this: there are many reasons I like my current kitchen.

1. It's open. It flows into the family room without a wall interrupting it, so I can easily see who's doing what and don't feel cut off.

2. The view from my two windows. They both face the woods behind us, and I love to see my little feathered friends come for a bite to eat from my deck feeders. And I like to watch scampering squirrels.

3. My refrigerator. We bought it from the Smiths who were in our church until February when they moved to Belgium and needed to sell it. The Smiths are a special family; I had the joy of teaching their daughters in school. The saddest day of my teaching career was the day they left. It ruined Valentine's Day for me (also my youngest child's birthday) and proved to me that teachers can get just as attached to their students as vice versa. It's wonderful to have precious memories, and to be reminded of those folks really often by the big stainless steel fridge.

4. The table. I love the finish, the design, and the many good things that have happened there--meals, schoolwork, creative projects, conversations, games. It's a "butterfly" style which means it has a built-in leaf that can be slid in and out at will, and doesn't have to be stored elsewhere.

So even though I'd love to change some of the tangible things about my kitchen--the counters, cabinets, and fixtures, what will always be important are the intangibles like love, laughter, and togetherness.

Next Project?

Seems like there's always something calling for attention around the house. All of our "big" projects are pretty much done, except for one: the kitchen. Stuck in the 80s with ugly cabinets, a shortage of drawers, terrible lighting, and minimal counter space, it screams for more than attention. Like a baby, it's begging to be changed.

But it's just going to have to wait. We won't go into debt again for things we want, and right now the big bucks have to go toward college tuition. I am amazed that I have not had a major meltdown about this kitchen since it's the hub of the home, and because I enjoy cooking. That's the grace of God because I tend to become discontent quickly, especially when I compare the spaces I work in with the spaces others work in. I am amazed that I haven't fought a major case of jealousy because so many of my friends have bright, beautiful kitchens where they can spread out, stock up, and swing dance. (Okay, so just a couple of my friends could swing dance in their kitchens, but my imagination goes wild when I consider the possibilities. Not that Paul and I would take up swing dancing if you installed a kitchen the size of the Dallas-Fort Worth airport.)

Perhaps what keeps me grounded about not having my dream kitchen are the myriad decisions that a major overhaul requires. It's easy for me to become visually overwhelmed. I'd rather see 10 choices that I can narrow down to 3, 2, and 1, instead of starting with 35 choices to narrow down to 24, 15, 11, 8, 5, 3, 2, and 1. Paint, flooring, lighting, cabinetry, windows, sinks, faucets, counters, hardware, appliances. (Thankfully we don't need new appliances!) Those decisions drive me bonkers!

Tell me what you love about your kitchen, and what you'd like to change. Then chime in on what your next home project is, big or small.

Basement "Makeover"

Really our basement just got new carpet and paint, and our old family room furniture became our new basement furniture. But the completed project feels like an entire makeover.

Plus, it was an awful lot of work for Paul and Ben .My contribution was helping get the room under the stairs dejunked of all my arts and crafts stuff, keep iced tea coming, make color decisions, and offer "atta boys" along the way.

I could not find good "before pictures." Suffice it to say the berber carpet was badly stained and snagged.

View from the kitchen, down to the basement:

The walls were beige with a pink undertone. Not on purpose. It was just a bad call on my part several years ago to not change the color after four square feet of it looked pinkish beige. We didn't like it from the get-go, but economy won out. Lesson learned: Change your paint, even if you've spent $100 on it. If you hate it from the start, it won't grow on you. You'll respond to it emotionally the same way every time. Color affects emotions too much to make a five-year mistake with it.



Sherwin Williams color: Mega Greige, SW 7031
Paint: Behr Ultra Premium with Primer (color-matched to SW swatch)

Carpet: a nylon frieze (free-zay) from Luna. Ben made the final carpet choice when I was "stuck" between two. He's a great salesman (much better than the Luna salesman), able to reason people like me "over the hump" of indecision. This carpet feels comfy underfoot and adds a wonderful texture to the otherwise smooth surfaces everywhere.

View from the landing:

Lest you think the Renoir print of the dancing couple
is our idea of "man cave "decor, let me assure you otherwise. I bought it years ago for a dollar because I like Renoir, but it's the ideal size to conceal our junction box!

I keep hoping it will inspire ballroom dancing the way the treadmill inspires 10K running.














View into the 7x8' music room

which used to be my craft room/art room/junk room









I got choked up taking this photo. I really miss my drummer. He should be sitting here. Can't wait for him to come home and bring back some NOISE. (Feel my forehead. Is this me talking?)

Our walk-out basement offers a lot of natural light.
































I still don't know quite how to decorate this space. The guys are happy just to have a remote, some chow, a drink, and the TV .

I'm up for hearing decorating ideas. Our style is pretty simple.

So ends, for now, my Summer Tour of Homes.

A Simple Woman's Daybook 7.20.10

Not that I am stuck for writing prompts, but A Simple Woman's Daybook helps to put a lot of them in one place outside my mind.

Outside my window...
it's dark and we saw no evidence of the tornado that threatened the northern part of our county earlier this evening. We hung out in the basement, anyway, and I thought of Kansas.


I am thinking...
of the sudden death of Paul's friend Bob last week. They had gone to school together as kids, and had run into each other many times in the past decade. We found out through a mutual friend that Bob died from injuries after falling off his roof.

I am thankful for...
life and breath, God's mercy, Dunkin' Donuts, spiritual fruit in all four of my children right now,
fresh garden veggies, that God woke me 15 minutes early one day last week to see the ambulance out front and put me in a position to minister to our neighbors; God's protection on Paul involving electric wiring and the AC unit and 24 hours without air on a 98 degree Saturday; a lovely girlfriend for Ben; when my parents ask to keep their grandson overnight; my new family room; and a host of other blessings. which I will soon consolidate into a Gratitude List post.

From the kitchen...
tonight--tempura veggies, shrimp cocktail, zucchini strips and chicken drizzled with Wegman's Basting Oil. Tomorrow morning with a friend: blueberry pancakes, bacon, eggs, coffee, and OJ. I love my Friends' Day Wednesdays.

I am wearing...
a purple polo, tan shorts, enough hair spray to prevent a tornado from messing up my 'do, and pale pink nail polish on all 20 nails.


I am creating...sanctuary in my bedroom, little by little.

I am going...to schedule a cystectomy for Molly, my 10-year-old Golden. GOD BLESS VETERINARIANS who have the stomach for such things. I am still half wretching and half laughing at how cavalier the doctor was when looking at AND touching the ugly growth: "Oh yeah, it's a cyst with a wart on top, and it's oozing. An unfortunate combination."

I am reading... The Holiness of God, by RC Sproul, my favorite Bible teacher ever. Today I read something I'd never thought on before. It's a phrase from an old hymn that is not theologically correct, "God's grace, infinite grace..." Sproul admitted that he once preached a practice sermon on it in seminary, after which his professor asked him where the Bible says that. It doesn't. God is infinite. God is gracious. But His grace is not infinite. He sets limits on His grace. (I may expound more on this soon, and quote Sproul directly when the book is near me.)

I am also reading the book of Ezekiel. I have only ever read it once through in my life, but don't remember it. I hope to get through it with understanding, but I am at least taking notes this time. Recently I came to the part where God tells Ezekiel what do with his six-ingredient bread. Whoa. Betcha won't be coveting your neighbor's bread machine after reading this:

Ezek 4: 9 “And you, take wheat and barley, beans and lentils, millet and emmer, [2] and put them into a single vessel and make your bread from them. During the number of days that you lie on your side, 390 days, you shall eat it. 10 And your food that you eat shall be by weight, twenty shekels [3] a day; from day to day [4] you shall eat it. 11 And water you shall drink by measure, the sixth part of a hin; [5] from day to day you shall drink. 12 And you shall eat it as a barley cake, baking it in their sight on human dung.”

I am hoping...to get my eyebrows threaded again by Saturday. Threading lasts so much longer than waxing and is not nearly as harsh on the skin. Men just have no idea what they're missing out on. They just have the same old bushy eyebrows month after month, year after year. If you ever see that much hair above my eyes, please check for a pulse.

I am hearing... the dinosaur AC unit puffing, blowing, rattling and squeaking. It's like music, really. From a junior high marching band. With your kid on the trumpet. You appreciate the sounds it makes because you remember the day nothing was coming out of the bell except spit and hot air.

Around the house...I am experiencing the satisfaction of being part of completing projects and anticipating new ones.


One of my favorite things...
Petty as this sounds, I'll admit it's a small thrill. It's this new lip gloss I have that has little holes that the colored gel pushes up through. I am not sure why I get such a kick out of the twist-up ritual in the morning, but I do. It also thrills me that the seller was raising money for a missions trip to Kenya and so the "fun" money is going to a worthy cause.

A few plans for the rest of the week... finish cleaning my bedroom; clean Sarah's and Steve's, too; have a friend over for breakfast to hear about her trip (and calling) to Africa; maybe date my husband (???Honey, I know you are reading this!!!hint, hint); take Joel to my parents' for another overnighter filled with Monopoly, Parcheesi, and Master Mind.


A picture thought I am sharing... for Sarah, who loves penguins.

Summer Tour of Homes

Remember the Christmas Tour of Homes that a lot of us bloggers participated in? I loved that. I get a real bang out of seeing other people's homes, the creativity and personality that comes through in pictures.

I don't know about you, but sometimes I just need a little push, a nudge, some external motivation, to get me over the procrastination hump when it comes to projects and to-do lists around the home . It's time to turn some of my "I shoulds" into "I wills". For example, I should sew some throw pillows for my sofa; I've had the fabric since May. I should weed my gardens again; some weeds are as high as short corn stalks. I should decide on cushions for the wicker chairs I painted awhile back. (I have hunted; I need to "kill".)

For the record, I am declaring July 15th the kick-off for Summer Tour of Homes. That's 10 days away. It's my personal deadline to finish some of these languishing projects for which I have great intentions.

Want to join me? Wherever you are, whatever little or big project(s) or sprucing up you're doing to the old homestead--or the new one!--, you are invited to join me in this virtual tour.

You in? Leave a comment. Looking forward to seeing your homey touches on July 15th.

The Carpet Man Cometh

Can't wait till tomorrow. We get new carpet in the family room and basement. Paul has been working like an ox after his 10 hours at the office. Painting, pulling up old carpet, moving furniture. I've been his helpmeet. I'm almost a no-help-meet at this point, I'm so sore and burnt out from deciding where to relocate the junk.

Gave away a big craft table/cabinet. Debated long and hard about it. But it finally came down to this: ugly and practical versus pretty and well-used. It was the former, so I gave it the boot. Thank you, VVA pick-up truck. Gave away 2 big bags of fabric and 2 bags of cluttah, too. That's in addition to the van load I took to Goodwill after my $22 yard sale flop.

Feelin' good. Good 'n tired. Did I mention tired?

Ready for a long weekend in more ways than one.

And I'm SOOOOO lovin' the leather furniture!

Overstimulus Package

I startled awake at 5 a.m today, with the next two weeks of events on my mind. Since going back to sleep was impossible (but fine, since I turned in at 9:45), I got up and wrote out everything I could think of that I have to do between today and December 6th.

The Events:
Tuesday: Parent/Teacher Conferences

Thursday , Thanksgiving Day--just my little Six Pack here because they like having something on the day, namely turkey (extended local fam are vegetarians)

Friday--pick up Andrea from airport, have her spend night

Sunday the 29th : T'giv w/ Daubers at 1:00, Daddy's party at 5 (Jill's house)

Dec. 5th--Ladies' Christmas Breakfast -- I agreed to decorate a table and make a sausage casserole. Sadly, none of the guests I invited can come this year.

Dec. 6th-- baby shower for Leanne for which I am helping Sarah prepare

For Andrea's arrival, Sarah wants to repaint the bathroom. I predict the Mouse/Cookie syndrome will play out. She'll start by painting, and Paul will add to it by replacing the vanity, sink, and medicine chest, and I'll come along and accessorize and take pictures. (I am NOT supervising a home improvement project in the next 2 weeks!)

For Daddy's party, I've decided to do a slide show of pictures thru the years, getting my sisters and mom to contribute photos. I spent yesterday (while talking with Amy) finding clear surfaces and trashing junk from the office. This morning I started in a shoebox called "Before 1999" finding pictures of my dad. So nice to have clean space to work with and almost all my photos organized, thanks to the oomph I had last summer. I'm also making him a German chocoloate cake, his favorite, or order a chocolate one with white icing one if Jill really wants the top to "say" something rather than have stick-in toppers.

For Thanksgiving here and at Jill's, I am making lots of food. Rolls for the Dauber clan, mostly. They love my homemade dinner rolls.

For the LCB, I have decided on a theme.

For Leann's showers, I'm taking orders from my girl. What goes around, comes around, right?

I have renamed my to-do list "The Overstimulus Package."

Opinions, please

Still in the dreaming phase
of a family room makeover,
I'm scouring the internet
for inspiration. I like the fireplace, huge clock and all.
(I'm a clock afficionado. Doesn't guarantee I'm punctual; it's merely something I've always liked. Tick tock.)

On the hunt for a fireplace

to be built in our family room, I know I want stones in this color palette. What do you all think of these fireplaces overall?

I am really wanting to do something similar with the built-ins (but stained wood, not white). I'm digging that leather wing chair, too.

"You Messed Up"

This was Paul's way of complimenting me yesterday. I had one of those rare days (which, oddly, seems to be happening more often lately; it's either hormones or excitement) when I start one thing, complete it, go to the next, complete it, and so on until I have accomplished way more than I ever meant to.

My game plan for improving the look of the first level of my house was to help Joel deep clean his toy corner. Again. It's an eyesore in the family room when he lets things pile up in and around his toybox and lego cart (things neither lego nor toy). So I started with a realistic goal for him: "Joel, you must get rid of all the pure trash plus give away eight things before you can play." ("Pure trash" sounds like an oxymoron, but it distinguishes gum wrappers from unwanted but perfectly good toys.)

Thus began the cycle which started at 9 a.m and ended at 6 pm, with only a break for lunch and three short computer breaks. Once his toy corner was squared away and vacuumed, I started rearranging furniture. Not just within rooms, but between rooms. And not just between rooms, but between levels. Up came an end table, down came a lamp. I got rid of a freestanding kitchen cabinet I had kept way too long. It was country style and that look has been "out" how long??? But it housed my cookbooks and kitchen linens, and was a yard sale find nine years ago. Sheesh. While I was at it, I turned the kitchen table 90 degrees. I added one whole seating area to my family room by bringing in two dining room chairs and a floor lamp. (Just temporarily till the good stuff gets here!) I broke up a collection of old hymnals and displayed them differently.

Meanwhile Joel cleaned my bathroom of his own volition, which blessed me greatly. When he saw me beaming, he asked for a dollar. Oh well, so his volition was motivated by a buck. What can I say? He's a little capitalist. He did a good enough job for not having been trained in bathroom cleaning (yet).

Anyway, this morning I have one glorious backache. But it's worth it to have heard Paul say when he got home and looked around, "You messed up." I said, "What do you mean?" And he said, "You showed how much you can do in one day." I didn't know whether to smack him or kiss him. I did neither. Just said, "If that's a compliment, thanks."

What's Getting a Makeover?

After ten years of living in this house, our family room is tired and boring. It just isn't "me" and no one in our family really feels comfortable in it. There's eclectic, and then there's HodgePodge Lodge. Ours would be the latter.

The main thing I want the room to do is invite people in to sit a spell, read, and talk. So what's the problem? Well, for a decade I've thought the problem is the placement of the TV. It sits in an old armoire with a broken door squarely in the center of the focal wall. The room is 11.5 by 16- ish: difficult dimensions meant I was pretty stuck with "a" sofa wall, "a" TV wall, and a wall that's half-taken up by a sliding glass door. (Our favorite part of the room is the view outside, so at least the sofa has faced out that way.) What to do to change it? How to make it more comfortable, more of a conversation and reading room? How to add seating in a rather small space?

It was actually Stephen, our 17-year old son, who gave me the "eureka!" I needed. Being an avid reader and calming presence, he simply asked, "Why not do away with the TV on this level?" The question came literally within days of my asking the Lord to give me (and our family) more of a passion for Him and His people and to show me the idols that were standing in the way. Well, when you look at our family room, the focal point is the TV.

I never used to be a TV person. When I was little we didn't get a TV till I was five, and it was about a 16 inch black and white. We were allowed only one hour a day after homework was finished--and everyone had to agree what to watch in that one hour. Our TV was never on during the day, nor during dinner, and always got turned off (at the dial!) when we had company. It was never on just to be on. Of course I grew up before VCRs or DVDs, so we didn't pop movies in. My parents have never liked noise, not even "background noise" so watching TV was purposeful--usually World News with Peter Jennings, and "The Waltons" or "Little House on the Prairie." The absence of TV encouraged creativity, reading, game playing, conversation, and quietude. Our home was peacefully void of idle noise.

But 22 years of marriage to a man who grew up in just the opposite environment has altered my viewing habits. I don't blame him; I was the one who drifted toward TV. Now I watch too much. Namely HGTV and Food Network, but entirely too often. I can become a news junkie if I start watching. I like drama and trauma shows, history and mystery channels, game shows and comedy. TV plays a much bigger role than I want to think about. How can I grow in godly passion when the world is being pumped into my mind through TV so often? How much of an unconscious habit is TV watching, like grazing? Just exactly what is "must see" TV? What is "engaging television" really engaging?

These questions are not difficult to answer; the answers are difficult to come to terms with. To realize that when you walk into our home, you can't immediately tell how important Christ is to us. Not that we need to hang crosses or Jesus pictures up (Paul wouldn't allow it anyway), but I was thinking that, except for the Bibles and Christian books around here, a casual observer would not readily identify the Person we worship. The thing that's front and center is a thing. A thing! An idol that I've unfortunately become too comfortable with. And now that's starting to change. God is rocking my worship centers--food and leisure. I know I will appreciate the changes eventually, but I am having a hard time saying, "Will I really be fine without a TV in front of my favorite chair? How much will I miss plopping down after dinner with a book and a TV show?

We have a big TV in the basement and a smaller one in Ben's room upstairs. It's not as if we are completely eradicating TV. I am not anti-TV. I don't think than non-TV watchers are necessarily holier or more spiritual (though some might like to give that impression) , nor are their leisure pursuits less idolatrous. (I mean, if I gave up 70% of my TV watching and God decided to take away my books, I would immediately request the Rapture!)

I am just feeling that God is in hot pursuit of MY heart and He has pinpointed, gently but firmly, the things I need less of, in order to experience more of Him. He wants to do a makeover on me that will, I hope, be reflected in our family room makeover.




How about you? Is God rocking any of your worship centers? How so?

Painting and Cutting Corners, and Making Fabuloso Memories with my Sister

My baby sister Jill and her hubby Jay just bought their first home. What a thrill to see them realize their dream, and to feel the pains that go with contracts and settlements (the pain in the backside when you realize your wallet is not as well-padded as you wished).

The house is a darling 1960s rancher in Aberdeen on a beautiful lot with a big yard and mature trees. (It's about 15 minutes from our home.) Mostly what it needs is cosmetic, not structural, and that can actually be fun for "project people" to do. Hard work, yes, but creative fun.
Knowing that Jill was on a tight schedule to get the public rooms painted before moving day, her friends and I offered to help. Gracious recipient of help, she let us. (The friends came one day, Joel and I the next.) Joel wiped down base cabinets in the kitchen and ran a Swiffer on the hardwood floors. He's got this thing for Swiffers. He begged to help paint --begged himself into trouble, if you get my drift, since he wouldn't take "no" for an answer. (Uncle Jay wanted only adults painting, understandably.) Parents sometimes need to facilitate a child's learning to take "no" for an answer.

While paint was drying, I wiped out upper kitchen cabinets and drawers with a fabulous cleaning solution I took with me. It's called Fabuloso. "It smells soooooooo good in here," Jill said every time she came in to check my progress. Fabuloso--which I found at Home Depot-- comes in a bottle that, unfortunately, looks like a jug of grape juice for kids. The shape and label should NOT be so appealing. It clearly says "Do not drink" on it, but let's be honest, can anybody who WOULD drink it be able to read? Anyway, I have made a note to self to write the company and say, " I love EVERYTHING about Fabuloso except its dangerous appeal to preschoolers. Please change the look of it." I love to put some water in the bathroom sink with a couple capfuls of Fabuloso in it and just let it sit. It gives off this aroma that gives everyone the impression you've actually been cleaning. Why work hard when you can fool people without sweating? That's my question.

When the cabinets were clean and dry, Jill had me use thin rubber matting to line them. They needed to be notched in front to accomodate the door openings, so I did that while she painted in the other room. When she came to inspect my work, she gushed (very easy to impress Jill, which is one big reason I love her, she is SO not critical). "Wow, how'd you make them fit so perfectly? " she asked. I blurted out (not thinking), "I cut corners."

Well, you'd have thought from our laughter we had been sniffing Fabuloso a little too long, but if you have a sister or close girl friend, you know it takes very little to bust a gut. Pretty soon Jill joined me making these liners. We went on and on: "Hire us. Cutting corners is our specialty, " and "Why do the job well when you can cut corners instead?"

Enough already. Here are some pictures from our fun day on her new homefront. I won't even begin to apologize for our looks. Does anyone look good in paint clothes?
(Notice I am holding the bottle of cleaner strategically in front of a paint smudge on my shirt. It's not just free advertising.)

Here's to more happy projects and great memories with Jill and Jay in their new home. (Glasses clink, filled with Fabuloso. Not.)

My New Bathroom

Out with the seashell sink a la 1984.

In with granite counter and faucet I adore.

The floor stayed the same, mirror is new,

Artwork by Joel , new light fixture, too.

Painted in Rustica, a color bold for us,

(at least it isn't yellow like a school bus).

Where's the TP holder? Not installed yet.

A print of falling leaves a frame will get.

Trim around the doors must still be applied

But I love my l'il bathroom when I have to "go" inside.

Diary of a Bathroom Painter's Wife

1. As a couple, Paul and I have similar design and decorating tastes. Of course he would never willing put his name in the same sentence with the words "design and decorating." He would say, rather, he knows what he likes and doesn't like to see in the house. Four colors will never come from his paintbrush onto these walls: blue, pink, yellow, or orange. The only times he compromised were in 1992 (when Sarah wanted buttercream walls to go with her baby doll wallpaper border), in 1999 when the same child wanted sky blue walls, and in 2006 when she wanted one of four walls in a grapey purple with cobalt trim. He will bend--and break--for that daughter of ours.

2. It takes us a good while to agree on a paint color. When going between his choice and mine, he says, "It's up to you." So I get what I like (or think I'll like). Today it was a color called "Falling Leaves" to match a color in my inspiration piece of art. Turns out "Falling Leaves" appeared to change color on its way home from Home Depot. When Paul slapped on the first few strokes, I thought he'd have a stroke of his own. "Falling Leaves" looked more like "V-8: The Morning After." (I Googled "spilled tomato juice" for an image; whaddya know?)

3. Scott at the local Home Depot should be getting a Customer Service Award if my two cents to the manager has the promised effect. Scott spent at least a half hour tyring to find a cure for the Falling Leaves. God bless him, eight years of paint school training couldn't have prepared him to doctor my diseased color choice. I finally asked him to start over and color match the original swatch of a Lowe's color I liked ("Rustica" by Valspar) but using Behr paint which we love.

4. Dear hubby the painter has applied the first coat. I'm going to slip downstairs and take a look-see. I sure hope my Rembrandt likes Rustica.