Interactive Thursday

I was a little panicked this morning realizing that tomorrow is Thursday and last week's "I T" was such a success I ... Oh wait Oprah has Carrie Underwood on and she is THE most darling thing-seriously! Beautiful and why won't my hair do that? And I love when she closes her eyes to sing and they do a closeup on her face and I try to memorize her eye makeup, except that my 48 year old lids are not quite gonna show it off the same way, unless I close my eyes quite a bit when I talk, slow blink or something. But I think people would be so distracted by how wierd that looks that they wouldn't actually appreciate the creative layers of colored pressed powder. I guess it really only makes sense if you are singing or praying, but walking up to a friend and falling quickly into "Our Father" or something is kind of bizaar and then they close their eyes because of the reverance and all, thus defeating the purpose...so I guess I should call for voice lessons, well, after Interactive Thursday anyway.

Ok, so I'm making headway on the painting and have the fence up to keep the Mooch at a safe distance and my cell phone is in the basket on the counter for financial reasons. My challenge will be the patience to let the paint dry REALLY well before I put the doors back on. You know, I will be all impatient about seeing the whole look and then the doors will stick to the frames and though beautiful, it kind of cuts back on the storagability when you can't actually open the kitchen cabinets, which would totally save on the grocery bill, but D and the pitcher that visits regularly and thinks this is a filling station for his 6'5" self, would be all fussy about the lack of food I guess. So, I am going to wait 3 days before hanging the doors and another 2 days before closing them, or less.
OK, remember "interactive Thursday" means reader participation and I already know 2/3rds of my followers are in Colorado so feel free to leave several comments and opinions, there will be room for sure. I found these fabric samples of www.fabric.com and need some feedback, because left to me, I would just order 3 yards of each and decide later. Kind of defeats the whole spending freeze makeover goal, so I should limit my selections to the best ones.

That's where you come in...so interact friend. Just call them 1 through 10, top to bottom or describe them, like swirly blue or stripes etc...I am planning on a slipcover for the sofa, window coverings, table runner, throw pillows etc... Anything less than 12 choices is a savings from my perspective!

And the lamps...I am thinking about this...But the question is, what do you think? Remember D had that ONE opinion about not liking the white, so I will have to consult him as well, since he is apparently, and no one is more surprised than me, a lamp person. After 28 years, he still has me on the edge of my seat.

Wrong little boy leaves for Colorado!

Dot is taking the Deeds to Colorado tomorrow...for A WHOLE WEEK! I used to think that family vacation was the best idea ever. Only now there is this other family and well, let's just say D and I have our suitcases packed because we are pretty sure they will be surprising us with our own plane tickets any moment now. So if you could just keep the calls to our house to a minimum for the next 24 hours you know just to keep the line free for the big surprise! Anyway, the freedom from the phone should give your family plenty of time to get used to the idea of adopting a DOG! (Yes I am yelling) Because "Mr. No-longer-cute" is now also known as "Mr. No-longer-sweet! either. I am not going to go so far as to actually post on the internet that I ran screaming after him "Bad Dog! Bad Dog!" Though I wouldn't blame someone who did, especially since it was me.
I decided to take yet another step in the "point of no return" path I am on in the kitchen makeover by choosing one cabinet to sand and primer and maybe even paint later today. I removed the doors yesterday, took them to the backyard and sanded them, but today I sanded the frame and painted one coat of primer on the cabinet after cleaning out the Deeds' finger paints and a couple of bottles of craft glue (remember this fact). So far so good. Then I thought through the idea of painting the doors outside for the heat and ventilation and decided the little "crew cut" pooch might brush up against them with the only hair he has left. So I brought them into the kitchen table and went to work with the primer. While waiting for them to dry, I went to the garage to work embroidery business and cut and number Beth Moore tickets, because 17 projects going at the same time is just how I roll. But within a few minutes I heard a disturbing sound coming from inside. Disturbing sound is code for "cabinet doors banging around on the table". MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCH!!!!!!!!! Disturbing sound is followed by many disturbing sights! In order. First... dog footprints on the doors. Now forensics has yet to do a match, and the Mooch swears he has 4 paws and claims that with only 2 foot prints in the paint it could not have been him,

but he's only 5 in dog years and I remember the compulsion at that age to tell what ever self-preserving fibs necessary, well for...self preservation. Of course with the back log in all that CSI stuff, I'm not waiting for the results, a mother knows these things. In this house you are guilty until proven innocent! So...disturbing sight #2...RED fingerpaint container missing from table and found near the living room...not a room scheduled for makeover soon, but red would now be a really convenient choice for the tile and carpet. Honestly I thought plastic squeeze bottles for finger paints was such a good idea, except now that I see that the plastic can easily be penetrate by a canine's canines...not such a good idea. And lest we forget about the glue bottles, (yep plastic), or think that the family room was somehow left out of the disturbance...well, you get the picture. Though there was a propondrance (sp) of evidence on the plastics including some saliva DNA (I'm not paying for testing), the Mooch sat with his head cocked to one side and I sure he was saying "I know Mom, what a disaster, huh! How did this happen to us?" me.."yes, well maybe we need a guard dog, and I'm thinking one that doesn't HAVE A RED BEARD AND WHISKERS THAT ARE GLUED TOGETHER!!!" When he's done hiding from me, perhaps I will return him to the parlor where I am sure they will look at his "matted face" and ask if they should just trim up to his earlobes or something. Bottom line...I think the Deeds should stay here and the Mooch should hop on the next flight out of town, maybe Colorado!

Legomyosamabinlego

I am not sure it is entirely necessary to have an Osama Bin Ladan Lego. I mean I guess if you are into war games and all, it might come in handy. When I complained a little bit at a family dinner last night, I was encouraged to see Legos as a reflection of the whole world, not just my own family. Well, ok, but there are no Legos reflecting any other ethnic or religious group. No yamikas, no sombreros, no nun's habits, no big hair from Texas, no corn rows like Jamaica, so I'm leaning towards a political statement from the pulse of Legoland. Now, the girls reminded me that we longer hair types, wrap up our heads in a towel after a shower. And then just as I thought I might get all caught up in this dilemma, God showed me there are worse things...like finding you cell phone in the garbage disposal. Seriously I have no idea! I kept thinking I was hearing it ring last night, but looked towards the kitchen counter and didn't see it, so I figured I was just hearing things. I was tidying up the kitchen this morning anticipating that the Fire Dept might just return my husband to me after working the equivalent of 2 weeks (80 hours) in just 3 1/2 days and was rinsing out the sink, poured a little lemon juice down the drain and flipped the switch on the disposal and heard...well you can imagine. I never in a million years suspected it to be my cell phone. But it was. I have hope. It's sitting in the window sill drying out and I have every intention of putting it back together because really what is more ridiculous, Osama the Lego or a cell phone in the garbage disposal?

Garage sale and Mod Podge

Me and Dell, dang...Dell and I, (sorry Mrs. ??, dang again, I'm too old to remember any of my English teachers? double dang) Anyway, we happened to be blopping last night after the extended painting of primer coat #2 and I did think more than once...I kinda liked the red. Anyway, we came across a project that was so darned cute and it was called Mod Podge. Diversonal thought...can I just say I love bloggers! Because they are totally about showing something dang cute and then telling you where they got the idea and how to do it yourselves. No kit to buy, do downloading or instructions, just pics and and a whole lot of "you can do it!" And I know the entrepreners ( I think there is a "u" in there somewhere, but whatever) of the world would call them crazy for giving away their secrets instead of selling them, but I would call them just plain nice, generous and all about the bloggin' relationship. Ok...Mod Podge, which I have been calling Mog Podge...oops. Here is a sample.



So this morning I woke up all saturated in inspiration from the blopping session with Dell and hit the garage sales. Div thought...did you know the local paper has a link on the net where you can see each garage sale on a map, select the ones you want to visit and then print out a list of directions from home to one sale, then the next, and on and on. Anyway, I was looking for some potential Mod Podgee things, went to a sale at house we lived in during the late '80's (think big bangs and flourescent colors, acid washed jeans) and bought these 3 pieces for $9.00 total.

Watch for future makeover pics. I found this cabinet door for 50 cents to practice my paint/stain-over technique before I try it on my own kitchen doors. These two vases, just because they fit the color pallette,two canvases either for Dot's great room or just to use as a frame for another idea I saw, $1.00 each. A set of black canisters for the new kitchen (never owned canisters before this), but will probably do something on the fronts to liven them up a bit...more after pics ahead ($1.00), a couple of plastic shoe boxes with lids for organizing. BTW the guy had 60 of them and said he used them to store herbs...??....I didn't ask. Anyway, one single wine glass because we have 3 and every once in a while 4 people want a glass of wine and it just doesn't seem the same from a coffee mug. I am sticking all this project stuff in an upstairs bedroom behind a closed door hoping D never finds it because first he's not a "stuff" guy and second it represents a "to do" list and we've already talked about the heart attack that can cause an already stressed out guy, who by the way worked 24 hours Friday, mandated to work today another 24 hours, working tomorrow another 24 hours and has to stay over for a tour to review a fire from last fall another 8 hours. That's 80 hours straight. He'll be home Monday evening for dinner, then back to the FD on Tuesday....He is my hero, but I miss him. Of course, it dawns on me that he hates to paint so there could be something fishy going on...think I'll just go ahead and splurge, he deserves a new toothbrush today too.

Doesn't everyone?

Because when you are raising your own kids they are tougher, but when its your grandchild, every precaution must be taken! So when you hit the Lego jackpot and buy somebody's $75.00 souveneir set from Lego Land, which was a castlesomething they "Had to Have" but you find it at a garage sale for "make me an offer" ok "how about $2.00?" and they say "sold" you must run screaming like the IKEA shopper lady to the get-away vehicle "start the car, start the car"! Only I was alone, so I was yelling on the inside to myself and running away quickly, bag in hand looking over my shoulder expecting the garage sale seller to be shouting after me, "wait, I didn't mean the whole bag of legos!" Too late, yes you did just give away the farm!





So, yes I soaked every single piece in hot soapy water first, then scrubbed each (yes huh!) with my own toothbrush. Diversional thought (not delusional, though possibly also appropriate) ...I have always wondered how you know when its time to replace your toothbrush, I mean other than what the toothbrush company says (possible conflict of interest, or the dentist, who I think could possibly be in cohoots with the tb company) . It dawns on me that July 25th, today might be a good day to purchase a new one!


As they are drying I have gone through to pull any inappropriate pieces out. Yes huh, there are inappropriate legos. Here are two "scary faces" which will not make the cut. The guy on the far left is a questionable character. If its red hair, he is in, but if those are flames, he is out. Really, how many nightmares could head on fire cause, A LOT! Then there are these guys, three headed something and pig faced guy. I may put them away incase we ever study the book of Revelation together, using Lego props, because isn't every toy a bible story waiting to be played out? But they aren't going to be in the general Lego supply. I was also so pleased to discover Papa and DD in with all the different Lego guys and that the heads come off and can go on different bodies so that we can have a little change of wardrobe every once in a while and have different jobs. Ok, now only 3 more hours until the little guy comes over...just enough time to dry this jackpot with my blowdryer on the high/sanitizing setting. What? Doesn't everybody?

No return-There's a point!

Ok, so Dann and I sanded the edges where 2 layers of red made a ridge on both edges of where the border was. Except the sanding made it smoother than the texture on the wall I think. I mean its difficult to tell whether it just feels smoother or it looks smoother in spots. So I decided to paint it attempting to get it all one color so I can tell whether repainting will cover the area evenly or the walls will need texture.

So I bought new roller covers and got everything out and ready and then realized that the covers were 9" and the roller frames are 6"-Dang! So brushing it is and about 15 minutes into the primer I realized I am at the point of NO RETURN.

Committed to a kitchen makeover. Yikes! I am not committment phobic or anything, but I am hoping so badly I can pull it off and it turns out more than just made over, but beautiful. You know like I DO NOT want a "trading spaces" makeover look. Drastic and ingenious in the dramatic transformations, but honestly not often very attractive in the long run I don't think. (Sorry TLC!) But I have to give 'em some credit, I mean $27.93 and 30 minutes is a pretty tall order. I also have been trying to do each project in the most sensitive way possible considering D's work schedule and the extra amount of pressure he is already under. He is self admittedly "obsessive" about projects. As soon as they make the "to do" list, he wants them done and crossed off. Can I just say this can be and I mean barring PMS or a wrong attitude, this can be such a great asset. Me on the other hand- totally enjoy the process. Work a little, stand back and admire a little, work a little more, you get the picture. So to keep his "to do" list clean, I am trying to start the next phase and get it all cleaned up before the next sighting of him so that he comes home unable to help and like it's all cleaned up for the day. Possibly a little codependence on my part, but if I can keep things tidy and everything in its place in the midst, so much the better for my overworked spouse. Tomorrow, he's on for 24...I am expecting big things. He will be rolling around town saving lives and such, me rolling around the kitchen with paint...now really does the excitement even compare?

Interactive Thursday

That's right, today is "interactive Thursday". That means that all (that's right all 3 of you) who regularly visit are needed today to help me with a couple of things.


First, black and white are fun, but is there such a thing as too much black and thus a decorating style can become "gothic" rather and updated? BTW how do you girls get your pictures to come up at different points in your blogs. Mine load at the top only?? WAIT-Thanks Cristin,I DID IT! Anyway,

I am ready to paint something else and have been eyeballing the forest of oak legs this table represents. Dot questioned whether the spray paint would actually hold up under the scrubbing and food etc on the top, but I was wondering about the legs.

Waddaya think? These 2 1/2 cans of spray paint are begging to be used, but I also have these lamps that are primered over some kind of fake brassy gold, which I was totally into in the last century, but were kind of getting on my nerves like "shiney metal on lamps" will do from time to time, or every time I walk in the room lately.

D says he doesn't like the white, which means "HE HATES THE WHITE" because he never criticizes anything except umpires and drivers on the road, so that is saying A LOT. And by the way, I was thinking I would cover these shades in one or the other, except that I think that might be out of order and limit my sofa covering. I never used to call a couch a sofa until I had one meeting 20 years ago with Cynthia (not cindy) from Ethan Allen when I learned that sofa sounded so much more...well "Ethan Alleneee". My grandma used to say Divan, or Devan, emphasis on the van. Where did that come from? headed to google next to check it out. BTW yesterday's border removal wore me out! Turns out the border people lie about easy application and removal, unless that only applies to say the first 5 years and its not a lifetime guarantee. Note: it is easier to paint around the border when you want to change the wall color and not the already out of date border, but removing the border now....what to do with two coats of paint on most of the wall and only one under the border? Yes it does show! Sand? Primer and retexture! So much for an easy change. Alright, so interact and live the rest of your day knowing someone asked you for decorating advice, which means adding "decorating consultant" to your resume is perfectly justified!

Grieving the loss...

I love Shih Tzus. Here I am on round two, having withstood the enormous pressure to "rescue" a canine, and instead paid the bigger bucks for my favorite darling pooch, "Mooch". I do believe that was a rescue of somekind however, since he was already born and all, he needed a home as much as the next pup, so anyway. What I love most of all is that cute Ewok kind of face framed by those big fluffy ears. I am not into the long hair all over and all the combing and the bow on top of the head thing. Let those that are go ahead, but Dell and I have much too much to experience together to leave enough time for combing the dog. I am lucky to get a comb through my own fur once a day, the dog just doesn't make it that far up the priority list. But I do go for the once a month trip to the dog parlor (my dog not me) for a bath, trim and a little spray of dog cologne. Diversion...can't quite picture the lab (as in laboratory, not Laborador) that got the grant to test and discover a scent perfectly suited for canines but glory to the one who convinced somebody to fund that experiment! Anyway, back to the grief thing. When I took the Mooch in yesterday for his monthly day at the dog spa, I told them his ears were kind of matted, which is code for "really matted but I don't want you to think I expect you to charge me more". They responded, "do you want us to just trim them up to his earlobes?" I am totally ignorant about a dog's earlobes, which turns out to be bad news for both of us. "Sure, I said" thinking I was giving them permission to take care of the mats without charging me more and without the embarrasing reveal-I don't know where his earlobes are exactly. Turns out his earlobes are attached to the side of his tiny little head, duh! like ours. I guess I assumed that they dangled at the bottom of his long ears. Well, at least I thought they were long ears. Apparently, the long part of his ears was the hair and mats. D (a southern husband) and the Deeds went together to pick him up from the parlor and when they got home I shrieked. I mean mostly on the inside because as a mother of 3 and now grandmother, I have learned the required self control when seeing your child look alarmingly weird and not reacting in a way that will damage their self esteem or scare them into their own shrieking fit, or in this case bark! My darling dog does not even resemble himself. I am so glad nearly all mirrors in our house are above the human waist (not waste, though also true) level so that he doesn't yet know how darling he is not anymore. I am trying to love him just the same and stop saying "I love you even though you are ugly now", out loud anyway. So, here is the dog makeover picture, which I must say is even difficult to post. But I know one of the steps of grief is acceptance, I hope it is the last step and doesn't last until the long grows back on his ears. I feel like the Deeds, when he told Papa to shave his mustache back on! Which makes me wonder if they might have saved all that hair, you know to donate or something and I could make him a hairpiece...because you know, I would be the one needing a little hair PEACE!

An empty nester and Dell!

So Dann is working A LOT! and I am finishing up month #2 as an empty nester. Dell, (laptop) has found a comfortable place on exactly that...my lap. If I could just move the coffee pot to my end table and have a port a potty close by, I would probably just become one with this 25 year old recliner. And I am in BLOG HEAVEN! Not my own, but skipping around the country reading what people with a real life and summer activites are doing...I am getting the whole "net" part of internet. I am loving my southern blogger friends Big Mama and Boo Mama and the Nesting Place. I don't care if they know nothing of my existance, they are a hoot even if it is only one way communication! And seriously what happens on any given day however mundane just sounds like more fun with a Southern accent.

Anyway, with all this time on my hands I have been blopping (blog hopping) all over DIY bloggers that have gotten me inspired to just do the thing! I am just plain tired of waiting for the $150,000 to remodel my home. You know, don't even replace a old or broken thing, because one thing will lead to another and that broken tile will end up costing, well $150,000! So, my lovely Dot, (Daughter) says before and after pics are a must, not sure how Dell and I will get those from the recliner but it's a respectable goal.

So today, Wednesday is the day to finish yesterday's border removal in the kitchen, which has been RED and I have loved it, loved it, loved it...until I looked at it last week and hated it. So off with the border and on with perhaps 14 coats of primer to cover the red, before the new color goes on. But D (all respectible southern bloggers call their husbands by their first initial) is off the the FD today, which means 24 hours of whatever scrubbing a 48 year old bicep can handle on the border. Why is it that when you are applying wallpaper, it resists the wall as if it could never adhere and like the wrong two sides of a magnet, but come at it 20 years later and it has such seperation anxiety surgical tools are required?

Decorating blogs a plenty + make over itch

The new palette

I guess a home makeover without pictures isn't really a make over...But believe me, "pointer" is a little fatigued after all the spray painting and unfortunately it is pointer that also much press the camera button. So...lacking a bit in before pics, here is "re-decorating" on a dollarish- Harper style.

How Great...Truly

I read this early this morning. It was difficult not to sing song it in my mind, but instead I turned down the music in my heart to a soft instrumental background and just slowly prayed the words. What a great way to start another be-a-u-ti-ful California July morning! Who wants to keep an experience like that a secret so... I thought I'd share these powerful truths with you...

Oh Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds thy hands have made
I see the stars and hear the rolling thunder
Your power throughout the universe displayed

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God to thee
How Great Thou Art
How Great Thou Art
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God to thee
How Great Thou Art
How Great Thou Art

When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,And then proclaim:
"My God, how great Thou art!"

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

Yes Lord, How Great Thou Art!

Philippians 4:8

"Finally, friends, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. "

Yesterday, Dann suggested he use his one day off this week to do a little yard work. Weed pulling, planting a few new things to fill in some holes on the hill etc... To tell you the truth, I wasn't thinking yard work at all, but its his one day off after a VERY long week, which followed several other VERY long weeks, so I decided if getting something off his mental to do list was more restful than rest, I right there beside him (after my hair appointment). Anyway, we finished the weed pulling with a layer of mulch. I used to think mulch just looked prettier than dirt around the plants and was all in favor of the beauty of it. Years ago Dann explained that spreading the mulch a couple of inches thick, blocked out the light and the weeds wouldn't grow. Starve them of the sun and those little buggers never do have a chance. So weed or mulch? I choose mulch.

This morning I am doing day 4, week 1, "Me, Myself & Lies" by Jennifer Rothchilds, all about worry vs God's sovereignty and provision and long about page 24 I read this "Worry-filled meditation never leads to liberty. It turns your thought closet into a prison filled with life-choking weeds. That's why God warns against dwelling on anxious thoughts." hmmm... Worry = life-choking weeds.

Denying weeds in the yard of what they need to survive, kills them before they ever rear their ugly leaves. So how do I smother what feeds the worry? Yelling at the weeds outside to "die, little rascals, die" doesn't work and yelling at my own thoughts doesn't work either. I need to find a way to smother those worries with mulch as well. The Bible tells us in Philippians where to put our thoughts and it doesn't suggest one minute be spent on worry.

Matt 6:25-32 tell us that God takes care of all of his creation, worry doesn't change anything and God is prepared and wants to give us everything we need. The Psalms says much about the fear that worry invites. Psalm 19 was a focus today stating that my thoughts should be acceptable to God and that our words and meditations should be acceptable to God. That takes some faith and discipline.

So today I am setting my purpose on being very aware of a worry creeping into my thoughts and I'm going to smother it with a 2" blanket of Philippians 4:8-"whatever things are true, noble, right, pure, lovely, of good repute, excellent and worthy of praise." In other words, all things God has promised and His mighty power and intent to accomplish.

This one is gonna take some focus! and perhaps a few cookies to go with the hot and BOLD this morning.

Mike Jack-dedicated to Courtney Galleher

Ok anyway, anybody crying over all the loss of Michael Jackson? I think I would be a little sadder if the news crews didn't take over the airwaves for 5 hours of coverage when they really only have about 30 minutes worth of stuff to say and 20 minutes of that is about all the scandal surrounding his life and that is completely inappropriate if you ask me and you didn't, but I thought I'd say it anyway because I have been home alone all day and there is no one else to complain to. Anyway, I had a big ol crush on Mike Jack as a preteen. Oh my gosh back when I would save my allowance to by a record, a 45 of course, because no body's allowance was enough for a whole album. Do you guys know about record players? They are those things that people your age buy at garage sales and turn into spin art thingys for your kids. Anyway, I listened to "ABC" and "I'll be There" at least as often as I took a breath back then and fell in love with him. Which by the way was probably the beginning of my rebellious side showing, because you know that was back when a young white girl should have no such feelings for a young black boy. Sadly, by the time my kids got old enough to like his music we were to the age of music videos and his only two dance moves were the moonwalk which was great and the pelvic thrusting thing he did which I felt required me to throw my hand in front of the eyes of my innocent offspring. I am not even going to mention the completely inappropriate grabbish thing that gloved hand often did! But on the day of his death, it isn't too sweet to talk about his inpropriety or is it impropriety? Well, wrong anyway, but I want to be sweet on this death day. Ok, one more thing that is completely not about what this email is about-How do the television networks come up with one hour specials 9 hours after someone has passed away? Is there a "death crew" that sits around with a regularly updated list of whose number might be coming up and they are well on their way to having a production ready to go? So if you were an investigator and someone dies at the age of 50 and you are looking for someone(s) who might have some inside information on their premature departure...I think I start with the "death crew"...I'm just sayin'... Ed McMahon I understand, Farah Fawcett with the cancer, but Mike Jack? They had a whole 60 minutes worth of stuff just sitting there ready to go on a moments notice? That reminds me, you are too young to know this, but since the content of this email has now crossed over to a blog topic and tomorrow's post, Farah's passing causes me just a bit of relief. EVERY single guy I knew or dated in highschool had a poster of Farah Fawcett in their rooms. Some even on their ceiling above their bed. (Not that I was in many bedrooms of teenage boys, seriously) She was our competition and every girl between 10-30 hated swimsuit season because of that poster! And I need to add this was all before plastic surgery, which made her even more well......ah it's pretty close to her death day too, so I'll be sweet. I am telling you, talk to the older of us...ask us couples over 45ish about Farah Fawcett and watch the two completely different reactions you will see on the faces of us-as our inner teenagers eek out in our expressions. I could bet you that there will be more men in grief counseling in the next 6 months than women. I might just be able to put on my bathing suit this summer. Ok, well its 9:50pm and I want you to have time to pop popcorn before the hour long special that the "death crew" at ABC has put together-having no foreknowledge of course.

3 cookies for breakfast...ok 5

I have given up creamer in my coffee. There is good reason, if you call health and weight good. I mean there are other reasons for putting an end to a long co-dependant relationship like loosing one's self. The creamer though was beginning to make me ever more findable and in more severe need of the "stretch" in jeans. Also, Dann and I, after our own little budget summit, are on somewhat of a spending freeze which move creamer and new jeans to the luxury list.
I tried cold turkey-going straight to java fresca (black). Shockingly different, but doable. Not the dessert breakfast I had learned to anticipate, but a girl can learn to appreciate a hot and bold taste. When you call it a hot bold taste is feels like something gourmet, and I am the farthest thing from gourmet, but in a coffee it sounds indulgent, so I'm there. "Java Fresca, Hot and Bold" how lucky am I. Anyway, it's not like I have never liked black coffee before this, its just always been a bit too BOLD first thing in the morning. I like to find my own words before the coffee cup starts yelling at me in BOLD.
"Hot and BOLD" has appealed to me in the past with dessert. Sipping sweet coffee after mounds of frosting off the corner piece of cake, or 3 brownies, or 1/2 a pie, was just a sugar overdose. But cleansing the palette with the sip of bitter Hot and BOLD was perfect. So this morning I was rummaging in the freezer for something, ok I knew the cookies were hidden there. You know, mix up a batch, eat about 1/2 the batter before it gets to the oven, cook the other 1/2, leave a few out to share and eat and then freeze the rest so that you don't over indulge and have to buy new stretch jeans which are on the "luxury list". So you hide them in the freezer behind other frozen stuff and then "forget" they are there, only you never forget, but you say that you are only going to pull out a couple and let them thaw and that is your ration for the day. Only, you go ahead and pop one in your mouth straight out of the freezer, because your hands are full of the day's ration, which may or not ever even make it to the counter. Well, anyway......If breakfast is the most important meal of the day, today was absolutely "Presidential". Java fresca - "Hot and BOLD" and a few cookies, ok few might be suggestive of some kind of self control. Anyway, if you see stretch jeans at the dollar store sometime soon............well, just know that I am still feeling really good about giving up the creamer, you know for my health and all.

Ouch

Ouch again. Sometimes the blog is the only place to record it.

Ouch

Some days when someone asks how I am, all I can say is "Ouch". There have been a whole string of those days in a row. Ouch.

The luckiest man alive!

If you checked the blog's last entry you have seen my fashion goal. Yesterday morning, 70 degrees on January 10 in So California. I have spied my neighbor across the street on his hands and knees pruning and digging around his rose bushes so I knew it was time to get to my few. Yard work...you just have to be in the mood. So still in my jammies and peering out to the backyard, the mood hit. But prone to a chill in anything under 80 degrees, I ran upstairs and threw on the nearest sweatshirt and slip on tennies, grabbed the pruning sheers and went to work. No I hadn't showered yet...I told you the "yard work mood" HIT. I was so enjoying the clipping and cleaning up from blooms past and picturing paradise 2009 that I hardly heard the click of the camera. What I did hear clearly was "I'm the luckiest man alive!" I chose to believe he was serious as my darling, showered, scrubbed, combed and fully dressed husband threw his head back in blissful laughter! You know? I agree completely!

New Years Hopes for the future

It's January 8th, 2009. Totally not my "just a thought" style, but I felt the need to get it down somewhere. I don't like resolutions, they feel so rulish and I am a rebel of sorts and reformed perfectionist, so coming up short makes me feel free and a failure at the same time. I'm going to call these hopes and plans, knowing that God will intervene when he sees fit and change things up just to remind me who is in charge. But I look forward to His interruptions knowing I must have been headed in the less than best direction. So for now here you go...in the next month I plan to become a mother-in law and break all those terrible stereo types that make a good late night talk show. In the next year I plan to adopt a dog and with this little black and white guy available mid january, it may be sooner rather than later. Plus I went to see Marley and Me today. That will send you to the puppy store in a heartbeat. (note to self...zoning doesn't allow me to go see any "horse and me" movies). After accomplishing the dog plan, I expect in the next year to regret having my carpet spotted, my furniture chewed and my checking account drained at the vets office. To deal with my regret, I will plan to watch Marley and Me again. In the next 5 years I plan to go to Israel, even if I have to wear a flak jacket and pants. Do they make flak pants? I want to see where my savior lived and walked, taught and prayed, cried and died. If I spill my own blood while I am there due to the conflicts, I plan not to care. In the next 20 years I hope to remember...well anything really. I would prefer to have a head full of the best moments and be one of those old ladies people call sweet. I hope my bones allow me to walk upright so that I can still look people in the eye, not the shoe laces. I plan to let my hair go natural and be gray. But most importantly I pray that I have this fashion bent. I don't care if people laugh at me as long as they let me laugh right along with them. Nothing lofty, just a few things I have planned. Not impossible to achieve, nothing to brag about, just a thought...

The truth is we just need a little light!

One Saturday evening recently, 4 of the fab 5, decided it would be best to each stay home, be productive and get some things done. All those little tasks like bill paying, laundry, cleaning closets, catching up on reading etc... So of course, I invited them over for a girl's movie night, and the definition of "what would be best" suddenly and predictably changed. We are such a diverse group and yet when our strengths are brought together we are the equivalent of at least one completely functional friend. So the movie magnate of the group was in charge of the DVD selection, I made popcorn, and the bills, laundry and closets were put off yet again.
I don't usually think of science fiction as a "chick flick" but Will Smith and New York City are favorites so we settled in, popcorn bowls layered on top of our blankets and assigned the remote to the electronically gifted among us. As the sun went down,and the room got dark, the tension in the room rose with the drama of this sci-fi experience. As the final climactic scenes approached and music told us it was time to be very afraid, I found myself saying aloud..."Ok, he is in a very scary situation. We on the other hand are safe in my living room! He should be afraid, we on the other hand are completly safe and have nothing to fear. Will Smith is in great danger, we are safe." Now once through that script would perhaps have been enough. But with every dramatic moment of extreme tension I would blurt out the same facts. It appeared to me that we needed too be reminded of the truth in order to have any comfort through the rest of this director's imagination. The 3 giggled under their breaths the first time, after that I think I may have spoiled their fun. I mean, we watch scary movies because we love the thrill of the suspense right? Or is it that we only put up with the anxiety because we so appreciate surviving and feeling the flood of relief that follows.
Now I can't help it that this has become a spiritual lesson. Take it up with the Creator, I take no responsibility for a twisted mind, just thankful for the One who has twisted it just so!
How often have I sat in the dark of a situation and gotten so sucked into the plot and action, that my anxiety has gotten the best of me. I want so badly for it to be a movie I know will soon end, and I have survived unchanged. I try to determine how to manipulate the characters, rewrite the script or walk out on this showing. Don't we all?
Well, perhaps the truth is... that the truth should be told in those dark moments bringing in a little light and clarity. The truth in my dark situation is "this might look scary, like the main characters are really at risk, like some may not make it out very well or at all, but the truth is `I am safe because I am loved by my Father. So when this is all said and done, and this scene finishes, we survive and though changed, changed for the better because of who our director is and because HE says so!" Its like turning on the lights in a theater in the middle of a horror film. The truth in the light says we have nothing to fear. So next time I find myself cowering beneath a blanket of fear, emotions, like a bowl of popcorn all over the room, I will remind myself, aloud if necessary, exactly what the truth is, even if the scene before me screams "be afraid!"
The truth is, we just need to add a little light. Off to clean closests....

Need to Vent?

So the plum family is building a house. I am supposed to be blogging that work in progress, but I was hoping to do it chronologically with photos and stories of how its going. We are already starting the framing and I feel like I'm behind. And I realize everything to me looks like a spiritual lesson, so to post a picture and no insight to go along with it seems to be empty. I know, I know everything doesn't have to be a spiritual event...can I just say "in my world, YES IT DOES" I don't understand why God created me that way, but He did. I know it drives the rest of you crazy, but if He wants to drive you that way, well, take it up with Him. So here goes. There comes a point early in the building process when the plumber comes to do "rough plumbing" (I am learning so many construction terms! Thank you Lord!). Rough plumbing refers to the sewer lines and drains for the sinks, toilets and bathtubs. (It is preferable to lay these pipes before the concrete foundation is poured, so that we don't have big sewer pipes criss crossing on top of the carpet and tile in our houses) Anyway, what I didn't know is that every drain has a vent pipe that goes up through the wall to the ceiling, through the attic and to the roof. This explains those little pipe things everyone has sticking up through the roof. Haven't you ever wondered about those pipes? Like did someone before us have many little tiny fireplaces that have since been removed? I mean they look like little chimney pipes right? What a ridiculous idea, but that was the thought in my head all these years without even thinking about how silly it was. Ok, back to the point. They are vents. I guess every drain needs a vent for the air to escape so that the water can go down. Like in an IV tube, when there is an air bubble that keeps the fluid from flowing, air in the drain pipe with no place to go would prevent the waste water from exiting and going to where we surely want it to go...away! Or we can hold milk in a straw simply by preventing air from displacing the liquid so that it will flow out the other end. OK...the bottom line is that a drain needs a vent or the junk stays put.

It occurs to me that if I am having trouble, something that I have been bugged about, anxious about, convicted on; fretting over, raging inside about, someone I am having silent lectures with, or worse, not so silent; stuff I just can't seem to get over... I might just be wise... to check my vent. The vents for the toilets go straight up, no turns, no kinks, no detours. They don't connect to other vents through some horizontal pipe between them, each one shoots straight up through the roof to the sky. "Where am I venting?" Or perhaps if there is a problem that won't go away, "where on earth am I venting?" Um Um Um...doesn't that explain a few things. And so I tried it. You see lately God and I have been at odds over something very dear to me. I thought we had a plan and I thought we settled it years ago. I knew my part and I knew God's part and that was that. Well the time has come and it occurs to me that I am disappointed that God didn't give me what I told Him he would. And I had a very good idea about what this time in my life was going to look like and it even had everything to do with honoring Him and glorifying Him and it is not playing out right. Now I have not been angry really, but getting fuller and fuller of junk. And I know about junk and getting full of it. Just like a drain that is not draining, pretty soon, the junk starts backing up and it smells and it's ugly and it doesn't just effect me, but everyone within smelling or seeing distance. It can get ugly That's the plain truth. Let it go on long enough without a proper vent and it gets very ugly. We put drain-o or the like into a stopped up drain and what is the first indication that the mess is starting to clear? Air bubbles. The vent is allowed to do its job and the drain begins to clear. Alright then. Vent...and so I did. Straight up to the heavens. I told God I was disappointed and that I thought we had a deal. I told Him I felt let down. I told Him he gave other people my plan, and asked Him why not me? I told Him I thought it was unfair and that He was playing favorites and that I wanted to be His favorite because He was surely mine and I didn't understand. I vented and vented and vented. And in my heart He kept motioning with His hand to keep it coming, get it all out, every last piece of sewage I had been holding onto. His head was nodding in understanding and His hand kept beckoning... and then..."Are you finished?" "yes, sir I guess I am" (Job comes to mind about now). "Is that rough plumbing you were looking at?" "yes, it was" "so you haven't yet had the final inspection?" "no sir, we've just gotten started" "Can you see that the house is yet unfinished?" "um hm...oh" "I'm not finished with this yet. Are you?" "well, no, but it looked like maybe you were" "I'm never done until it is completed" "yes Lord, that is your way. Thanks for letting me vent".

"I need a little help here"

God often uses everyday experiences to press something spiritual into my heart. The lesson is sometimes spontaneous and the application obvious, but most of the time he reveals it to me slowly knowing my shallow mind may miss something significant if I get to see it all at once. I have come to sense when this is happening and I'm learning to expect it when an image won't leave my mind and I can't figure out why. Here is the most recent and I am amazed again at God's creative way of teaching me the important things.

My husband and I were at our son's college baseball game last week when we noticed a blind man enter the small stadium. After several innings we noticed that this young man now sitting down on the first row behind home plate, was yelling out about different calls that the umpire was making and cheering for the team. We got to giggling at first at the irony of a blind man criticizing the umpire. My husband of course was jabbing me in the ribs and giving me a look that said "hey how come that guy gets to yell at the umpire and I don't?" ( I have never left him in the marriage, but I have moved away from him in the bleachers a few times) The longer we watched the more we realized that his calling out was absolutely accurate every time. A called strike 3 was high and inside and this guy yelled "come on ump, you know that ball was up!" We wondered if his hearing was so good that his mind could register where the ball was caught based on the sound hitting the catchers glove. Anyway...several innings later he got up and left the stadium. We were sitting at the top of the bleachers and watched him walk out and turn to stand just behind and below us. He stood there cane in hand and began calling out "I need some help here. I need a little help here. I need to get to the metrolink station across campus near the campus police station, the train leaves at 4:40" . He wasn't yelling, but calling out with some expectation I think. He wasn't disappointed. Within a few minutes a group of students, maybe about 15 or so from the track team came over and took him by the arm and away they went. At first I just thought it would be great if anybody could do that. Call out, "hey I need a little help with the groceries" and neighbors and people driving by would come running to help. We laughed about all the ways that would be great. But as the week has passed I couldn't get over what really happened and what God has shown me through that image.

We all walk around handicapped in some way or another. We may have figured out how to get around pretty well and learned to compensate or cover our problems. We may have even decided its better to stay put than let anybody know we are stuck. Maybe this guy could have tapped his cane all the way to the metrolink station but maybe he would have been late, or maybe he wasn't familiar enough with the route to make it. Regardless he recognized that this time he needed help and wasn't shy, fearful or too full of pride to ask for it. He didn't know how to get where he was going, but he knew what he needed, a few people to come along side him and help. What about me? Am I willing to do the same when it comes to asking for help? Am I willing to say "I need some help here, I can't make it by myself today and I need a few of you to come along side me this time" Do we come to church and humble ourselves so that we can ask for help, or do we come in and just hope nobody notices we are stuck or hurting? Is ours the kind of church where we feel like we ca stand up and say "I need some help here. I have a problem and I need you guys to come along side me and pray today" Is ours a body that would take a few steps closer to someone calling out and without judgement be willing to walk with them in prayer in that moment?

This young man didn't start by explaining the details of his blindness or why he was in a place where he needed help, he just called out that he needed a little help and the help came running. When God's will calls us to move, lets do everything we need to in order to accomplish that, even if it means letting others in on the truth that we may need a little help. Can we get past the over-important "I" plan and lay it down for the most-important "God" plan.

Isn't that what God asks of us on all sides of this scene? Humble yourself and ask for help rather than being paralyzed by pride or fear. Run to the side of another who needs you to pray for them or with them without alot of concern as to why or how they became so needy. Respond in such a way that if an unbeliever was watching this scene God would be able to use it to burn in that heart for his own glory.

By the way if you ever "need a little help" I'll have my running shoes on!