Our Extremities are the Lord's Opportunites

Kids...got to LOVE them!

2012-02-16T15:28:00.000-05:00

There is nothing better than having kids in one’s life. Sadly, I personally interact with them for no more than 2 hours a week, but those two hours are the highlight of my week. Because no matter how bad my adult-world can get, I always laugh when I’m with them. Who can help it with anecdotes like these:

Who knows how some topics of conversation come up before class when the kids are just telling me about their lives. This one had to do with Michael Jackson dying from an overdose of “good” drugs. “Elvis did, too,” Kate pipes up. “He didn’t take very good care of himself at all. Except he did shower.” I know Kate didn’t understand why, but I hadn’t laughed so hard in days!
We made Valentine cookies at church last night to share with others (part of our lesson on sharing God’s love). As I was getting the things out, I asked the kids what the day before had been. Matt’s hand shot up. “Thanksgiving,” he answered. I kept from laughing as I responded, “Aw, and I missed the turkey!” “I mean Valentine’s,” Matt corrected himself hastily, but he’s a good kid. He laughed with us.
After church, I was talking to our assistant pastor and his wife. She works in the office of a school and had been required to do 4^th grade lunch duty in the cafeteria that day. A little boy there raised his hand during lunch and she went over to see what he needed. “Are you married?” he asked. “Why?” Pastor Baker jumped in now. “Did he want to marry you? Did he tell you just to hang on a few years and he’d be 16? Am I going to have to go down there and beat up a 9-year-old for messing with my wife?” “I don’t know,” Mrs. Baker laughed, “but he didn’t believe me until I showed him my ring. Then he asked if I had only been married once. I said yes – that’s enough.” “Oh,” the kid replied, “my grandmother has been married four times.”
I was supposed to go to San Antonio this weekend with friends, but something came up to throw a wrench in that. As Haley left today to visit her best friend for 10 days, that left her cats unfed for the weekend. So, she hired a 5-year-old to come feed them. This was to be the little girl’s very first job, and we agreed this morning I’d just put out the food in the garage as planned and let them believe I’m gone, too. For, according to the little girl’s mom, she is VERY excited about her first job and earning real money. And we wouldn’t want to ruin that, would we?
The best news of all, though, I received this afternoon. My dearest friend Allyson is pregnant with number 6!!!!!! The little one is due in August/September and Miss Melissa is looking at flights to New Hampshire for the fall… :)

Today is...

2012-02-14T11:44:00.001-05:00

Officially: St. Valentine’s Day. Supposedly the celebration of love, but somehow it ends up being that only if you have someone special who loves you. Which just about defines the world’s view of love. Although I won’t go into the world’s definition of “someone”. I’ll leave that to the politicians.

“That Catholic/Hallmark Holiday”. So a friend described it to me this week. Catholic is a given. Tag “saint” to something and it’s got to be Catholic, right? But if you know any Catholic history, you know that Catholics actually have a saint for every day of the year (and then some). In fact, if you lived during the dark ages you celebrated the day of the saint you were named after and not your own birthday. (That could be good for some of us – I’d never get a year older that way.) Mr. Valentine just got lucky (along with Mr. Patrick) and gets his name tagged to a day by non-Catholics, too. I wonder, does that make him more saintly than the other saints?

Hallmark, of course, is defined as “cards”. And while greeting card sells sky rocket for this holiday, the Hallmark corporation must share it’s loot with candy makers, stuffed bear producers and florists. I’m not against cute cards, but there are some things out there one just has to wonder who got paid to create the thing. Like yesterday at the gas station when I saw rose buds three feet long. Not real rose buds, mind you. Stuffed ones. Like a teddy bear only in the shape of a rose. Really…who has the patent on that ugly thing?

“Singleness Awareness Day”. This is the politically correct version of today’s holiday. Because in today’s world we have to be aware of everything. And then once we’re aware of it, we must celebrate it. Which means every day I celebrate “Brush-Your-Hair-Yet-Again Awareness Day” and “You-Need-To-Be-At-Work-By-Eight Awareness Day”. Some days I celebrate “The-Fog-Light-On-My-Car-Needs-To-Be-Fixed Awareness Day”, but some days I forget and so can’t celebrate it. On the other hand, I’ve been celebrating “Singleness Awareness Day” every day of my life for nearly 32 years. Who knew I was so politically correct!

“Black Tuesday”. When I was about 19, I had a single woman who was probably in her late 20s tell me this is how she referred to Valentine’s Day. (For those of you who don’t know history, that’s the day the stock market crashed in 1929 and started the Great Depression.) She despised it. And yet by the next Valentine’s Day she was happily married and doubtlessly celebrating. However, I have tried this and I’m still single into my early 30s. Maybe if I got a bit more brutal and called the day “9-11” or the “Hiroshima” I’d have better luck.

2012-02-10T14:04:00.004-05:00

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

- Frederick Lehman/Rabbi Mayer -

2012-02-08T15:04:00.001-05:00

Happy 24^th Birthday, Sally!

Laugh lots and enjoy it!

Dollhouse Update

2012-02-03T17:11:00.003-05:00

My dollhouse took the holidays off with me. Too much to do to take the time needed to work on it and do it right. (Although looking at these pictures closely there's a lot more detailing that needs to be done than I can see with the naked eye!) But I'm back at it...and it's nearly reached it's 1st anniversary. I'm hoping at this rate it will be completed by it's 2nd, although probably not furnished.

Third floor outdoor window. (It can have a lot more trim, but I liked it simple.)

Close up on an outside window.

Third floor inside with windows – with need of touch-up. (I think, though, I’m going to use them as shelving or put pillows in them.)

The entire front part of the house…yes, there is some shutter adjustments needed!

Books I Love (Well, some of them...)

2012-01-30T16:07:00.002-05:00

I never have enough time to read. I didn't when I was a teenager and would spend an entire Saturday lying on my bed with a book in hand (we're talking at least 12 hours if not more - how did I do that?). Nor in my 20s when I held sporadic part time jobs and finish my college education. And now it my 30s with a full time job, tennis, errands, chores, building a dollhouse, balancing my checkbook - and other mundane, adult things - I certainly don't have much time to read. But I do steal moments here and there when sweeping my floor can be held off just one more day...

So a couple of weeks ago I found a new favorite. The kind of book you put off sweeping your floor for two more days...and stay up late even though you have to get up early. The kind of book that reminds you of all your other favorite books you need to read again - isn't that why I chose to move them to Texas instead of being put in a box in an attic in Indiana? The kind of book you just have to tell people about. And since you're on the subject, you may as well share a few other favorites.

The book was Tuesdays at the Castle by Jessica Day George. It's about a princess (no, I haven't outgrown princesses - just the costume). She lives in a castle that's alive. I mean, it grows. Or shrinks. Or moves around it's rooms. When her parents and oldest brother are attacked by bandits and the council tries to control her brother who is to become the king, Princess Celie and her beloved castle must save the day.

The Runaway Princess by Kate Coombs is one my favorite princess stories ever. Princess Meg doesn't want to be a normal princess, married off to the prince who wins her father's contest. Instead, she'll win the contest herself...even if that does mean escaping the tower her father's locks her in. Which may be the easy part - witches, dragons, stuck up princes and bandits can be a bit challenging...even with the help of friends and a wizard.

Of course, not everything I read is about princesses. Patricia Beatty never wrote a princess book, but she wrote lots of others I could read a dozen times each. There's O, the Red Rose Tree where three young friends decide to help an elderly neighbor make a final quilt. The only hitch: it must have 7 red fabrics that don't bleed. Shipwrecks and actresses' petticoats are a good place to start. Or Melinda Takes a Hand when young Melinda decides her sister's heartbreak over a missing fiance can be solved by rejected British lords who build castles on the plains of Colorado. And if she's not busy with that, she's got a Great Dane to chase after.

If you want funny, try Boston Jane by Jennifer Holm. Jane wasn't much of a lady when she went to finishing school in Philadelphia, even though she tried very hard. She'll try all the harder to maintain her ladylike ways in the wilds of Oregon Territory while she waits for her fiance to show up. Only when he does,well...there are two sequels to read that story in.

I suppose I'll end there - for now. But there are so many more! Wise King Solomon stated correctly in Ecclesiastes, "...of making many books there is no end..." If only I had more time to read them all!

Singing

2012-01-26T16:15:00.002-05:00

The other night I was reading Psalm 137, and it struck me that this psalm isn't joyful. It doesn't start joyful as the people are in captivity and they don't feel like singing. Nor does it end joyfully as they contemplate the destruction of those holding them in captivity. And yet it's a psalm.

We know that a psalm is sung. Some of us actually sing them in our churches. Others of us sing hymns, which is a psalm's close relation. Whether a psalm or a hymn, most of them praise God and talk of His wondrous ways, and what He has accomplished on our behalf. We are taught that the songs we sing in church are meant to praise and glorify God: the One we are singing to. And, somehow, we grow up with the impression that in order to do that rightly we sing with joy and happiness. Right?

In fact, giving a passing thought to music in general, the first thought is happy. But what about funeral dirges? Or the fact that some of the greatest composers ever were often in depressive moods? David wrote a psalm after falling into one great sin that led to several more or when he was surrounded by his enemies. William Cowper wrote "God Works in Mysterious Ways" after almost committing suicide. Joseph Scriven wrote "What a Friend we have in Jesus" after the death of not one, but two fiancees in a short period of time.

Last night in my class with the kids at church we read a devotional on another aspect of song. When King Jehoshaphat in the Bible faced an army much mightier than his own, he asked God in despair what he was to do. "Sing," God answered. "Send out your choir before your army and sing." The songs of praise the choir sang as the army march to battle caused such chaos in the enemy camp, the enemy killed one other. Victory for a song.

And isn't it true? Of course, we sing when we're happy. But it's also true that we sing when we're sad. Why? To make us happy. And, it's just as true that I sing when I need God's help. How many hymns come to mind when I'm facing a challenge I don't know how to solve...and what a comfort they are.

So sing! And then watch yourself smile.

When one things leads to another...and another...and another...

2012-01-23T16:54:00.003-05:00

Honestly, my weekend was supposed to be slow. Which is why I cleaned my rooms in the back of the house. Not exactly top to bottom, but everything was swept, and vacuumed, and mopped, and washed, and wiped down. Then I started in on some other rooms in my part of the house (just a simple cleaning) because someone is having a party up at the house this coming Saturday and things need to look decent. Next on my list was bringing wood up to the house. Some of the logs are quite heavy so I brought out the lawn mower and attached the little trailer to bring up a couple of loads and then a cart full of kindling from a pile outside the fence line. When I lost the trailer (I just put the pin in since I was only going back and forth in the yard), I thought I may as well mow some large patches just to make things look nice. Wouldn't take five minutes...until I realized how thick they were, which led to raking, which led to lugging a barrel full of grass outside the fence line. Between all that, laundry and some baking; I finally sat down a little after 3 to watch a movie and work on some Wednesday night stuff. No sooner did I have my markers out when my phone rang and a friend wanted to meet for the rest of the afternoon/evening just to hang out. Yes, I needed that nap Sunday afternoon!!!!

Work has been something like that today. I was expecting all the deaths over the weekend - no huge deal. I knew other things might come up, too. But sorting through one patient's folder of insurance claims in order to make an appeal wasn't on the to-do list originally. Neither was jumping hoops for our marketer until I got off the phone with her for the upteenth time and let out a sigh/growl.

"Having a Monday moment?" Linda called from her office.

"No," I replied. "I'm having a thank goodness our marketer is leaving for five or six weeks tomorrow because she's driving me crazy moment."

Linda laughed.

Things are quiet at the moment - probably the calm before the next storm. But it gives me a chance to blog. Maybe send out an e-mail, too. It's going to be a great evening to go out and hit a yellow ball with a racquet!

Amidst Floods and Heartaches

2012-01-20T13:39:00.003-05:00

I probably try too hard to be practical. To face life as it comes. To be content with what I have and make the most of it. Some of that may come from moving constantly. When you do that, you just learn to lump it. Make friends - leave them. Start a project - leave it. Make a home - what's that? I sound callous. I'm not. It hurts.

So, I put up walls - or I try. That never seems to work out as well as I would like, although most people would probably say I am very hard to get to know. And I try very hard not to dream. Of course, I am a girl. I like fairy tales. I love happily ever afters. But you won't believe how hard I try to not think about them. They hurt.

You might think I'm talking about something very serious...I am. Something in my life I am trying to leave in God's hands and rest upon Him. Some days I do quite well at that. Others I'm just resigned. And, of course, there are tears and the inevitable Melissa-Sturm-trying-to-plan-for-every-contingency. Truth be told, I drive myself crazy.

On the other hand, what I'm talking about isn't so serious...but almost as difficult. You see, I have two favorite seasons: autumn and winter. And for the last three years, I haven't enjoyed either one. Because, you see, Texas doesn't have them. I don't mean they're not on the calendar (although if given the chance, Texans would have their own calendar) - they simply don't exist. This year our leaves were brown in July, thanks to no rain and scorching temperatures. No color, no crisp mornings, no stomping through leaves in the woods. And winter? People keep assuring me that February is on it's way and it will be winter...but when it's nearly 80 degrees out right now, all I want to do is sit down and sob. The lack of frigid mornings, grey skies and the hope of snow makes my heart ache. Literally.

On Wednesday night with the kids, we studied Martin Luther's "A Mighty Fortress is our God". As I read the first verse to them I realized how difficult the language of that hymn is for a 7-year-old. I tried to explain to the kids what "He amidst the floods of mortal ills prevailing" means because, of course, Matt said it was talking about the flood and Noah's ark. I explained it was a metaphor and asked if the kids knew what that meant. Matt pops back with, "Oh, we studied that in school. A metaphor is an example of two things with the comparison of 'like'." (Did I mention Matt is only 11?) After getting over the shock of that answer, I tried to explain that the "flood" in the hymn talks about bad things that happen to us that can seem as overwhelming as a literal flood. I asked if they had ever experienced something like that. In response, I got blank looks. Then 7-year-old Trinity shook her head. "No," she said. "Nothing like that has ever happened to me." All I could think was, "Oh, to be seven again!"

Sadly, one day those children will experience floods. And heartaches. They'll have tough decisions...and choose wrongly. Friends will hurt them or just leave their lives. Dreams will never come true. It's the way of a sinful world. And it hurts. But I pray those children know their Mighty Fortress and cling to Him. Some days it's the only thing that gets me through hard choices...and 80 degree temperatures in January.

2012-01-16T14:37:00.002-05:00

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Among all the other amazing things she taught me I can never in a lifetime repay her for, she taught me to love swinging!

No, truly, I didn't forget...

2012-01-12T15:23:00.003-05:00

Happy 22^nd Birthday, Gracie!

Adding to my Repertoire

2012-01-10T17:24:00.002-05:00

It's been one of those weeks where a full time handy man needs to follow me around. I think it was Saturday I flipped on one set of the kitchen lights and a bulb blew. Not just any bulb - a special one. So high up I can't even reach it if I stood on the island. When I told Haley she looked up at it and said, "Mmh...I've never changed one of those." And she's lived there for over 12 years! (Well, okay, her dad probably changed one or two in his time, but they've been gone for nearly 3 years...) Hence we still don't have it changed. Maybe we'll do that when we finally take down the Christmas tree. (And as Haley leaves for Russia on Thursday for almost two weeks who knows when that will be!)

Then Sunday night I flipped on the light in my shower and blew it. Now it might actually be a normal bulb, but you have to unscrew the fixture. Which I haven't done yet although I thought about it last night when I had the screwdriver out (get to that in a minute), but I had just taken a shower and it was wet so I didn't want to climb around in it in my pajamas. (Just in case you're wondering, there is another good light in the shower area so I'm not taking my showers in the dark. Not that I couldn't...although shaving could be hazardous.)

But, all in all, I can change a light bulb. (By myself for those who have a joke come to mind - I'm only partly Polish.) When it came to the broken toilet seat yesterday...well, I've never done that before. Thankfully, though, God made my dad my hero. As a little girl I followed him around when he did repairs on Saturdays hoping he'd offer to let me help. Not usually, but I observed. So, replacing a toilet seat wasn't bad at all. Especially since I have two toilets in my bathroom. (I don't get it either, but I guess it's a modern day version of a two-seater outhouse.) The one toilet I broke several months ago, so I took the seat off it and put it on the one that works but had a broken seat. Then I put the broken seat on the broken toilet. (Now everything matches!) They were screwed on two different ways, but really, replacing a toilet seat isn't difficult at all! I must confess I was quite proud of myself.

There are just so many things you learn in life when you're single and live 500 miles from your dad. To be honest, I don't want to learn them all. And I wish other problems in my life could be fixed as easily. But it's all part of growing up, right? (Boy, do I wish I were about five again...)

Entering the New Year

2012-01-05T15:36:00.002-05:00

I just read the blog of a friend who took some time to reflect on 2011 and the highlights of each month as the year passed by. It's a good way to end a year - remembering the joys and trials God has brought into your life. And by remembering knowing that that same God will see you through all the joys and trials of the next year. For He will...even though sometimes I wonder.

On January 1, the mother of my assistant pastor's wife passed into eternity. As I was giving my condolences to Mrs. Baker last night, she remarked that her mother just celebrated the new year.

"Yeah," I agreed, "and she had the best celebration anyone could have."

"Amen to that!" Mrs. Baker's daughter agreed with a laugh.

Truthfully, I didn't think much about my comment when I said it. But when I thought about it, I could say "Amen", too.

Imagine starting the new year in eternity with your God and Savior. It doesn't get any better than that!

Growing Up

2012-01-02T17:32:00.000-05:00

When I was home, I took my “baby” brother out for breakfast one morning and we got to talking about – what else? – basketball. He was talking about his teammate and I made an observation. One winter I assisted in coaching a team of 5 to 8 year olds. We tried to teach them the basics of the game – shooting, dribbling, passing, basic rules – but they all had one object: get the ball. They might not know what to do with it once they got it, but above all else they wanted to hold that ball. Then they grow up to play varsity and guess what? You have to teach them to rebound. No longer is the object of the game to get the ball.

The apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:11 tells us, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” And, it’s true, we have to grow up. We have to put away childish fits and days full of play in exchange for acceptance and responsibility. And while we would never want to remain a child all our living days, sometimes it would be heavenly to be a child again.

I mean, what about our childhood dreams? I played with my dolls for hours, dressing them and putting them down for naps while I “cooked” and “cleaned house” for my “husband” to arrive home. I took my dolls “shopping” and was their “teacher” at “school”. (We’ll skip over the fact I got into a bit of trouble at times for such things if I decided to “cook” with materials not qualified as playthings.) All very natural for a little girl whose deepest desires are to be a wife and mother. Maybe if I had been more practical I would have played office and put “files” in alphabetical order. But I didn’t dream of spending most of my adult life behind a desk. (Who does?) Now I sit here and wish I had a doll to go home and dress...and dream.

I have to confess I didn’t spent much time imagining I was a princess, but I did play dress up. I imagined myself on stage in my mother’s old sparkling dance leotards. Then I caught the dream of being a gymnast and spent hours turning cartwheels and spinning about on my swing set with the fanciful idea I’d be the next Mary Lou Retton. I could just see myself in a red, white and blue leotard receiving a gold medal. Sadly, I shall never fulfill that dream. But it would be nice to get up from this desk and turn a cartwheel in the parking lot. (Yes, I can still turn cartwheels.)

I got a letter from a little friend of mine in New Hampshire who wanted to know all about how to get a book published because she loves to write. The truth is it costs money to publish as I did, something I could afford only as a co-writer. When I was her age, though, I didn’t know that. I spent hours scribbling, dreaming of being a published writer who could do nothing but scribble all day long. Now that dream hasn’t dissipated. I still imagine myself in a little cabin in the mountains with a faithful Golden Retriever, sitting before my computer writing words someone thinks worth publishing even if it’s not a best-seller. But with a fulltime job and everything else I’m involved in, I’ve hardly time to write at all let alone send out fruitless letters to publishing companies. But I will tell my little friend to keep writing. Who knows…with some work, dreams can come true.

It’s a little bit sad we have to grow up. We have to put away our dolls, we stop chasing balls and we know our backs would give out if we tried a walk-over. But I’m speaking to the choir when I say we shouldn’t give up childhood fun entirely. It’s not wrong to keep writing and hoping. Or build a dollhouse in hopes God might still bless a nearly-32-year-old-woman with a husband and so little girls of her own to enjoy it. And things like mini-golf, or picnics, or puzzles are just as fun now as they were over 20 years ago.

So, maybe it should be my New Year’s Resolution to enjoy my life a little bit more. Relax when I get home from work, keep my Saturdays free to do something that will make me laugh and not take my responsibilities quite so seriously (a defect of a firstborn). After all, the same God who told us to put away childish things also said, “Laughter doeth good like a medicine.” And some days I could use a whole bottle of that!

Here comes the end - the start of the beginning...

2011-12-30T13:36:00.003-05:00

Since I've been in Indiana over the holidays, I decided to look at a computer as little as possible. It would have been a better decision not to look at a computer at all because I checked my e-mail a couple of times and one of those times somebody who had nothing better to do over the holidays than hack people hacked me. Merry Christmas to them, too!

And now back in sunny Texas with work piled up, and more to do on a Saturday than I have time for, and a cold worse than the one I went to Indiana with it's like my week away never happened. Business goes on as usual. Nothing has changed. Conversations go on as if they never stopped. Was I even gone?

But I truly had a nice week away. And coming back hasn't been bad (except it's 60 something every day here - guess it's good I didn't get any sweaters for Christmas!). I'll actually be caught up before the day is over. Still need to run about a million more miles to work off home cooking, but I guess I could leave that for a 2012 resolution.

It's hard to believe it will be 2012 this weekend. Where did 2011 go? So much happened - so much didn't. (Like winning an all expense paid vacation to New Zealand - have to settle with looking at the pictures one of the nurses brought back from her vacation there.) Who knows what 2012 will bring. Trying not to hope on too much and so rest in my God who never changes no matter what year it is. Praise Him for that!!!

2011-12-20T17:40:00.002-05:00

Have this wonderful, thoughtful post all jumbled up in my mind I want to get down on paper, but when you work a full 5-day week in 2 days...well, as you can see, it didn't happened.

So, we'll just say I'm heading to Indiana for Christmas tomorrow morning. I CAN'T WAIT!!! I CAN'T WAIT!!! I CAN'T WAIT!!!!

Perhaps I'll blog that all-important post while I'm there...more likely, not. We'll let it hold till January (which might actually work out better, come to think of it). So, until then I'm off to Indiana!

Did I mention I CAN'T WAIT?!?!?!

2011-12-13T16:45:00.004-05:00

Dear Jenny,

Today is your 20th birthday...wow! It's hard to believe the little red-head girl with the huge imagination is 20. No more broken swings, or "jiggling" clowns, or piano playing in the window sill. You're not cute enough anymore to get by with forgetting how old you are (you never were three...), Tommy the turtle finally found his way out of our yard, and even your ducks have flown away.

But even if you've "graduated" from turtles to a skittish cat or from "jiggling" clowns to a bakery, your imagination has never dimmed - simply channeled. For even though bowling balls that take a full minute to roll down an alley and take down pins in slow motion exemplifies your life, no one can ever say you're not smart. You taught yourself to tie your shoes and ride a bike. You created your own crochet patterns for doll clothes and have delighted many little girls with your sewing creations for their own dolls. And gone are the days of imaginary pianos - today you play a real one beautifully.

I admire the gifts God has given you. I've always wished I was naturally gifted in something besides putting things in alphabetical order. I hope and pray you use them to bless others, just as you have in the past. Never stop being generous. In the midst of all your artistic talents, that is your greatest gift.

Love your oldest sister, Melissa

Happy Birthday, Jenny!

And this week...

2011-12-12T15:56:00.002-05:00

I woke up a bit tired this morning...got to bed late and woke up two hours before I had to. I went back to sleep, of course, but not completely. You know how that goes...

Last week I ran circles. Still waiting to see if I lost any weight from that (probably not thanks to Christmas baking this weekend), but I should have. I've never had a week when seven new patients were admitted and six died/were discharged. I've had more than seven new patients in a week. And I've had more than six die. Just not all at once. I felt like telling the dealer to stop shuffling me cards - I had enough!!!!

The weekend wasn't too grand - I mean, work wise. The on-call nurse made a decision I discussed with her until I was blue in the face on Friday...and I'll be playing clean-up on that for the next year or more. (Maybe I'll be gone by then...) I mean, I knew my day was going to start out with an insurance company, but I had not planned on dealing with two. Nor had I planned on three deaths within two hours and another admit this afternoon. My boss made the remark this afternoon, "They need to leave you alone. Because if they don't, I can't bother you." Oh, yeah, that helps!

The home health office manager remarked today that when I leave for the holidays next week I'll be more than ready if things keep up like this. "Or," she added with a wry smile, "you'll just decide not to come back at all. Don't do that to me."

Fortunately for her, right now I'm too tired to think about it...

Gone...but not Forgotten

2011-12-08T09:10:00.004-05:00

Excuse me while I drag out my soap box...which has grown since yesterday. Now I am stepping upon it. And for the next few minutes I will pretend I'm Daniel Webster or John Calhoun and wax eloquently:

Yesterday was a very important day in our nation: Pearl Harbor Day. Not only was it the day we remember that attack upon our nation which catapulted us further into World War II, but we remembered that it has been 70 years since that day. It is a day that lives in infamy - and so it should. It is a day that we never should forget.

I awoke thinking upon this day in history, trying to imagine the horror those men stationed in Pearl Harbor lived through and coming up short. When I got to work, I opened my web browser expecting to see an amazing work of art as Google also remembered this day in our nation. Instead blue, red, green and yellow letters starred back at me as if mocking the free nation that allows a company like Google to grow and prosper. And then today? Well, I opened my web browser and a work of art starred back - Google celebrating the art of a Mexican communist artist. I can't even tell you how angry that makes me. How anti-American can you be?

Well, I am not anti-American. I am very proud of the nation God has allowed me to be born in. I am proud of my father who served in the navy, my grandfather and great uncles who all served during World War II, and all my forefathers who defended the freedoms I enjoy in the Revolution, Civil War and almost every war the nation has seen. And I want to thank every single one of the men who served in World War II and the families who sacrificed in ways we cannot imagine today. I, for one, will not forget - ever.

And before I step down from my soap box, I leave you with this: The World War II veterans of this nation are dying. They are old, and tired, and every day one of them passes into eternity. One day, they will all be gone. What will our nation look like then?

The Dollhouse

2011-12-06T16:37:00.003-05:00

Okay, so I am finally updating on my dollhouse...because I finally have something worth updating about! I didn't take pictures of all the clean up work I've done trying to compile my six working stations into five going on four. Finally folded the ping-pong table up. I told Haley we can use the wood scraps I've gotten everything out of as scraps to burn in our fireplace. All the pieces I'm currently working on are in the rooms they belong in...table number five will be put away this week. (Well...it will have a puzzle on it instead!)

Now if you're more of perfectionist than I am, please ignore the mistakes I am very well aware are there. One of them you probably won't notice - just think I did it that way! The others I've got to correct, but I thought I'd post the pictures anyhow. It's window time - a little less complicated than I thought, but a process of many steps. Before the week is out, I hope to have the windows in the roof in and the french "door". The others are waiting for some "minor" fixes before they can be assembled...hopefully with the new year.

A view of all the windows installed.

Close up of a single window (yes, there will be shutters).

The kitchen bay window.

Inside library window - needing a touch-up.

Inside the kitchen - also in need of some touch-up.

Everything I wanted to blog about...

2011-12-02T14:09:00.002-05:00

When you're gone for a week, it's amazing how much catch-up has to be played. Work wasn't that busy while I was gone, but the guy who comes in to "do" my work always leaves piles scattered about I have to go through and decipher. So, "not that busy" took me more than a day to interpret. As for the rest of my life, it's been thankfully a rather quiet week! And yet things still fell through the cracks.

For example, I wanted to post pictures today and tell of the process of my dollhouse. but as I was putting in windows last night, I had to tape them up so they would stay in position until the glue dries. And I didn't want to take pictures of taped windows. So, I'll post pictures next week of the half of the house that has windows. The other half...well, hopefully before I leave for Christmas.

Then I thought I'd post something on Christmas traditions and keep that as a weekly thing through December. Because I treasure the traditions my family has, even though I miss most of them and don't do them myself because there's little enjoyment in doing any of that by yourself. I've been thinking about them lately for three reasons:

1. My family is doing their day-long shopping trip today and I'm missing it.
2. I've missed all the traditions I'm no longer a part of the last three years.
3. A friend of mine didn't have a lot of traditions growing up and tends to be a little scornful of mine. Or maybe it's envy...

Still thinking such posts would be a good idea, but they'll have to wait til next week as I sort through them. (Yes, we have that many!)

Lastly, I thought I'd post about my new dog. All right, adopted dog. And only for three days. Susan, our social worker at work, went out of town today with her family and the friend who was supposed to care for the dog couldn't. So, I said I'd do it if she couldn't get anyone else. And, so, I have a dog for the weekend. It's a little Shih Tzu puppy of 12 weeks named Chikku. All the thing is a bundle of soft puppy fur, sharp teeth and playful attitude. We played last night until he wore out, but this morning he awoke and jumped from his kennel wanting to play so much he didn't have time to eat. He finally ate something when I locked him in the bathroom wtih his food (at least when he wasn't whining or, I discovered, playing in his water bowl). He happily brought me my slippers and chased leaves out in the yard. And as it was a wet, misty morning he was quite damp when he came in. So, I dried him off with a towel which he thought was great fun. I really need a dog...a companion! I think I'll ask for one for Christmas. :)

Answered Prayer

2011-11-29T14:14:00.002-05:00

It's almost a cliche to say that God has a sense of humor. And, when you think about it, probably not the thing to say about a thrice holy God. But He certainly answers our humorous prayers.

To make a long story short, let's just say one of the toilets in my bathroom broke. I thought I had turned off the water to it, but it continued to leak. So, I got out a bucket. No problem...until I had to go away for a week. No one was going to be up at the house to empty the bucket every couple of days. Would I come home to a "flooded" bathroom? Not what I wanted to think about as I packed for Thanksgiving. So, I prayed.

Okay, so this might all seem a bit ridiculous - me standing in my bathroom and praying that it would not flood while I was away. I tightened the plumbing one more time (since perhaps I hadn't tightened it enough the first time), put out a couple of towels and put the bucket it place. Then I prayed that this toilet would do the opposite of the the widow's cruse of oil. I didn't want oil until I filled every container in my house - I simply wanted no water on the floor when I returned. Still, my faith doesn't move very many mountains. I was sure I would come home to a wet floor.

But, as you might already know, I didn't. As a matter of fact, the bucket was but a tenth or so full. The towels and floors were completely dry. And, as if that isn't answered prayer enough, the toilet hasn't leaked since! And even though you might be laughing at all this (just as I was), I am happy to say that my thrice holy God answers prayer - sense of humor or not!

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-25T13:16:00.002-05:00

Could we with ink the ocean fill,

And were the skies of parchment made;

Were every stalk on earth a quill,

And every man a scribe by trade;

To write the love of God above

Would drain the ocean dry;

Nor could the scroll contain the whole,

Though stretched from sky to sky.

- by Frederick Lehman -

Home - wherever that is

2011-11-21T22:21:00.002-05:00

As the old gospel hymn says, "The world is not my home, I'm just a-passin' through...". For some of us that reality is almost a daily reminder. The question, "Where are you from?" always causes me to pause. I can join in almost any conversation with a, "Oh, I'm from there" which isn't a lie whether they're talking about Nashville or Boston. I can laugh hysterically at Saturday Night Live making fun of Newt Gingrich stomping New Hampshire, or I can roll my eyes at Texans who will vote for Rick Perry simply because he's from Texas. And you don't want to know how many times I start filling out something with a wrong address...well, an address that isn't my present one.

All that to say I'm home. Sort of. Actually, I think I've crossed over yet another right of passage into adulthood. For officially I suppose I can say I'm at my parents' house. It's not exactly home. For the first time in the two years I've been in Texas, I come to Indiana as a guest - meaning I don't have a bedroom here in anymore. Well, I am sleeping in my bed. In a room with my desk, my dresser and one of my bookshelves. But my desk doesn't have any of my belongings in it. My dresser has only a few of my clothes in it. My bookshelf does have my books on it, but only fifty or so of them. As for my bed, well, it's been moved and I'm sleeping on sheets and a quilt discovered in closets and a chest. Everything else I own is scattered about the house, being used by someone else, or packed away in boxes in the attic. It's all waiting for me to decide where I will officially make my home. Like I ever plan on making that decision.

It's been odd the last couple of times I've visited "home". When I went to New Hampshire in June, I felt like I was at war with myself - one foot in two worlds. I consider New Hampshire "home" like my parents consider Tennessee to be "home". I love New Hampshire. I would happily live the rest of my life there, except I must confess there is at least one thing in Texas I don't want to live without. Hence the two worlds. Coming to Indiana doesn't have that same effect. I only lived here 9 months, and I could well live without cornfields for the rest of my life. But most of my family is here. And I love being with them. But their life is certainly not the one I am use to anymore.

But I am happily home for the holidays...this time in Indiana. Next year? Well, who knows.

What Isn't Done

2011-11-18T16:44:00.002-05:00

Some weeks it seems like I get more not done than done. Thankfully I'm not talking about work. Because this is my last day before I head off to Indiana for a week to spend Thanksgiving with my family. My to-do list is done, every form everyone should need printed in bulk, admits as completed as possible, etc. Hopefully I won't come back to a national disaster area.

I'm talking more personal. Like so much for getting all the windows into my dollhouse before I leave. I still have tomorrow to put a few in. I hope all the kitchen, the library, and the 2nd and 3rd floor halls. The rest will probably have to wait, although I can glue some pieces together so they'll be ready to go.

Didn't get a bit of shopping I wanted to get done before I leave accomplished either. Oh, well. Missed shopping ventures are never losses in my book.

There are still a few other things I need to do before I leave, a couple pretty important (like laundry, calling the bank) and some that will probably just have to wait until I get back. Like I'll have a great deal of time between now and Christmas. Although, I will have to fit that shopping in...

On Wednesday in my class at church we did a thankfulness tree. Nothing unusual about that, but instead of cutting the leaves out of construction paper I decided the kids could do leaf rubbings, cut those out and write what they're thankful for on that. I had to go to a park to get leaves (mesquite leaves don't work for rubbing) and could only find oak and some kind of elm. (Although, I guess kudzu would have worked...) First the kids couldn't believe those were real leaves. Then they didn't know what to do with them. I had to demonstrate putting leaves under the paper and coloring over them with a crayon. Now I thought leaf rubbings were something most kids did by the age of 3. But apparently that isn't the case in Texas where trees (and, therefore, leaves) are a luxury item.

Guess we learned more than the fact that God can do all His holy will. Which, sadly, was not putting trees in the state of Texas.