The house this afternoon...

The echinacea is doing well, and the black-eyed Susans are filling in and will be the main attraction for the remainder of summer. There are a few dwarf crepe myrtles, some waning bee balm and daisies, and two butterfly bushes.  The coreopsis has gone to seed and the roses are either done blooming, or near to being done.  The obedient plants are coming out, but don't bloom until the end of the season.  For the ones who enjoy the heat (the Susans especially), today is a good day.

Stitch-a-long---square 3

Instagram is nice, but tends to be blurry. Well, it does when I use it!  The pixels on this old iPhone are a bit lazy, so will charge up my 'real' camera and give it a go.

First square of a heart to indicate that the stitch-a-long is for favorite things...the cake is self-explanatory since I adore cake, and the mustache is for my sweetie.  Next will tackle a teacup, honeybees, a cupcake, books, a house, pugs, rain, possibly sleeping (the least one's idea), and whatever else I can come up with.  Need to throw in some Zen just for good measure. :)

Friday afternoon

Working on the third embroidered square now.  It's a mustache in honor of my main squeeze, and I must admit is sorta cute.  Later on will post a photo.

Just trying to get things done in the house with the least amount of sweating. Unfortunately, even when the air is on, the house reminds us of the heat outside.  And on that topic, I might pass on helping sweet Indian boyfriend's family move tomorrow.  They'll have other folks, so we won't be missed, but my truck hisses and wheezes in the extreme heat.  Had hoped that the temps. would go down a bit, but that's not going to happen---104F. will be the highest this weekend, I think, without the heat index.  Anyway, I was getting anxious at the thought of driving it so far away and then back again.  The check engine light comes on and then goes off.  Gary looked at it for me, but still...he's offered me the use of his Suburban, but he's not got working air conditioning (which I do have) and I'm a weenie.  So there. I would melt.  The least one is disappointed at my decision, but it's what it is. Melting is not an option.

My choices of an air conditioned wonky truck (that'd be mine) that has off again/on again issues with just about everything under the hood---and over 200,000 miles on it---or his truck, which runs great, yet will be hot-hot-hot. I think staying home is best, yes?

So if I can manage a teensie grocery store trip this evening, I'll be good.  Wish they delivered.

(the kitchen window in the afternoon)

Stuff and nonsense

First off, the Elizabeth Jenkins book called The Tortoise and the Hare was exceptional.  I'll definitely be putting it on my favorite books of all time list, no kidding.  Her writing is so beautifully executed and I found myself underlining in many places.  Lovely, lovely book.

Sitting here at home ALONE.  Half of my brood are working and the rest are at my mom's.  It's darn hot outside (temp 99F. with heat index of 103F.) and I'm dragging my feet before I go hang out another load of clothes.  Still, it's nice to be here by myself with just the animals for company.  The dogs are all slung out asleep and the Trigger, the conure, is busy trying to eat a peanut.  He's got all the time in the world.  He picks it up, holds it in one claw, chomps down and immediately drops it.  Ping.  It hits the bottom of his cage.  Then off he goes again.  His patience is admirable.  Watching him is better than t.v. any day.  Plus he's such a charmer.  We've taught him the wolf whistle, and even though he's just a bird, a person's self-esteem really does soar when he whistles as you pass his cage.  I find myself patting my hair.

And now it's time to go.  Will muster my courage for the backyard clotheslines and then hunt in my library stack for another read, whine about not having another Jenkins to get into and stick out my bottom lip.  It really was that good.

(image courtesy of bonnie)

'Grieving God's Way' by Margaret Brownley

Probably the best reader for a book about grief is someone who's enduring it at that very minute, and that person would be me.  For purposes of reviewing, I had to read Margaret Brownley's book Grieving God's Way from cover to cover, but will definitely go through it slowly, in a day-by-day fashion, as it's meant to be used.

She's a comfort in her writing, and it's clear that she's walking the grieving person gently through the process of heartbreak.  And she quotes Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross who breaks grief down into the stages of denial and isolation, anger, depression, bargaining, and acceptance.  A benefit of sharing that information from Dr. Kubler-Ross is that Mrs. Brownley follows the same format in the devotionals in the book.  In a very soothing manner the reader is given helps and guidance through each stage---keeping in mind that the book is called a 90-day devotional---your recovery may a longer or shorter time.  I'm figuring many of the writings could be read over and over again.

I enjoyed as well the haiku by Diantha Ain, which fit so well with each piece by Mrs. Brownley.  The poems, in addition to many book references, make this a very touching and helpful book for those who grieve.

(i received this book free to review from thomas nelson publishers)

Mid-day, mid-week

Second square, and a bit untidy as the heart is as well.  A bit like the way I dress!  The distractions here are so constant, it's hard to do anything neat and...let's say, perfect.  Perfection certainly isn't in my profile.  And, mind, I'm not complaining.  I've noticed that there are variations in what the other students in the stitch-a-long create. Some are so meticulously done, and others are more homespun.  Sweet that everyone finds their niche.

A home day, I think.  Not sure if things will warrant a change in that respect, but I'm hopeful that they won't.  Took fourth and fifth sons out to T*arget last night and got a few things.  New dishtowels...those that look like cloth diapers. Love those.  And some Watkins lemon hand soap for sweet Indian boyfriend's mom.  We'll help them move into their new house on Saturday, and I wanted to leave a little gift there.  Honored to be asked.  Was figuring that they'd ask folks from church, but since we're 'sort of' family, maybe we rank up on the ask list.  Looking forward to that.

Reading Elizabeth Jenkins' book The Tortoise and the Hare and loving it. Found it via Alison at Brocante Home.  I ordered it online here in the US (it was sent from England), and would love to have something else of hers to look forward to.  She wrote some historical fiction as well, but this one, which takes place in the fifties---domestic stuff, is right up my alley.

Will get the clothes washed and hung out in a minute.  Am between loads. They'll dry in a snap being that we'll reach 100 or so today.  An easy dinner of pasta and cole slaw.  I have some frozen veg as well to choose from---breaded okra (oh so yummy!) or brussel sprouts.

Take care, and stay cool.

Stitch-a-long, square one

After watching several of the videos for the stitch-a-long I've joined, I realized something.  The videos are sped up so that the viewer can see quickly what's going on.  I get that.  Anyway, after watching for a bit, gleaning some tips and all, I found that when I began the first square, I was stitching like a mad woman. Seems I was trying to keep pace with the rapid-pace video. You'd think I'd realize what I was doing!  It was MESSY.

Anyway, cut out that first try and here's my first square, done at a more leisurely pace.  It's in a variegated pearl cotton in a satin stitch with a plain cranberry as a border, using the stem stitch.  The cloth is a yummy piece of cream linen, with a light sparkly finish on it.  Might detail the fabric a bit with beads or buttons, etc. later on.  But for now, it's fine.  Figure it'll be easier to add pretties later on, when I don't have to contend with an embroidery hoop.

Noon-time

A fresh new week. Always a good idea.

It's late in the morning and my chickens are still in bed...the ones who've not already gone to work. Fourth son was hired at the restaurant where two of the other boys work, and had his first day on the job yesterday. I think he's excited. He didn't envision working there, but with the other boys so thoroughly entrenched, it sort of just fell into place. Sure helps with the driving to and fro. They can all ride together, most days, and on the rare occasion, I have to take one.

With the restaurant closing down late...supposed to be done around 10pm, but folks linger and they usually get home 11pm or later...sleeping in is the norm. And with it summer-time, the others follow suit.  I''m enjoying the house to myself...closed the hall door so the dogs and I have this end of the house, and the slumbering ones the other end.  The washer chugs along, and I've not yet raised the shades.  Restful, let me tell you.

And there's nothing pressing, so it's nice to take it easy. Besides it's going to be darn hot this week. The temps are supposed to be right at 100F. and that's before you add the heat index. Lots of watering of plants, and limiting the little ones/dogs time outside. 

Hopefully a lazy week, and one with less internal drama than lately. Think I'll read books that don't stretch my intelligence, do some more needlework (going very slowly) and putter around. Might open a can of paint and do some touch-ups inside.

Boring, but restoring.

(not my kitchen, but from a free-online source)

Would love to look at this everyday...

Source: livingginafairytale.tumblr.com via Vic (Jane Austen's World) on Pinterest

Being sorry

Forgiveness is a funny thing.  I've had a couple of old girlfriends (not online friends, but in-real-life ones) on my heart lately, and sent one of them a letter last year, asking her to forgive me for some things I said years back.  She had been disrespectful regarding the church/denomination we were attending, made fun of me teaching our kids the catechism and it cut me to the quick.  I told her how much that hurt me, and she really didn't seem to get it.  When she later tried to contact me to talk about it and to say she was sorry, I ignored her.  Those things cost me that friendship.  We went our separate ways and never had contact again.  I tried to get in touch with her one last time, yesterday online, and was clearly ignored.  Social networking is wonderful and horrible this way in how it enables certain things.

Sadly, my unwillingness to allow her to say she was sorry has come back to haunt me.

I don't like having ugly situations crop up again, but have to remember that forgiveness is a two-way street.  I've had to forgive myself for my strong words to her in the past, and had to ask for hers.  It was up to her whether she responded.  I don't feel harshly toward her anymore...I'd love to be friends again.  It's not up to me, though, and I just need to move on.

But you know, it nags.  Just knowing that it's out there, unresolved, is annoying and a bit sad.  But for me, it seems that the Lord puts things into my heart to deal with, whether it's to go directly to a person and clean up a mess, or to go to Him and let it go.  I think it's time to move on.

Loving the red in these photos...

Source: flickr.com via Alicia on Pinterest

Source: myidealhome.tumblr.com via Alicia on Pinterest

Saturday afternoon

“Well, most women are full to the brim, that's all...We are, most of us, ready to explode, especially when our children are small and we are so weary with the demands for love and attention and the kind of service that makes you feel you should be wearing a uniform with "Mommy" embroidered over the left breast, over the heart...If a stranger had come up to me and said, "Do you want to talk about it? I have time to listen," I think I might have burst into tears at the relief of it.~from Elizabeth Berg's The Pull of the Moon

The part where she says, 'Do you want to talk about it?  I have time to listen', so resonates with me.  Everyone's busy with their own lives and it seems a rare treat for us to really sit still long enough to hear what the other person has to say.  And if their lives are sticky, it's more so.  We're more hesitant.  For me, I tend to steer away from folks who are endless talkers, knowing that I'll be caught in a conversation that lasts longer than my patience.  Maybe not fair, but it's how I roll.  Probably because my time is so jam-packed with the kids and Gary that I seldom have any to spare.

But to think of folks actually wanting to listen....now, that's a gift.  There have been very few times when I've been asked how I am and I knew in my heart that the person asking was sincere, and was interested in details.  Now I'm not talking about the casual asking of how you're doing...but the times when the friend/acquaintance can tell that you have something that needs desperately to be said.  Tears in response?  Absolutely.

Adorableness in a food-for-thought fashion

Source: icanhascheezburger.com via melissa on Pinterest

Thursday afternoon

Got up just in time to go to church (if I had stickers, I'd give myself a star!).  And in an interesting turn of events, I was the only one there besides the rector.  That made me the reader, which means I read the Scripture while we did the Daily Prayer.  So cool.  Nervous? Yes.  But the rector is such a nice person...we're about the same age and seem to relate pretty well.  All good.  And since it was just the two of us, I was able to pick his brain about some Anglican stuff I was curious about.

He said that a lot of folks who are coming to the Anglican church are tired of the more modern styles of worship with what I was talking about recently.  Hymns are gaining popularity again, as is old-school worship (well, I called it old-school, but it fits).  It's been done this way for hundreds of years and that has its own appeal.

In other topics, just looked at the videos for the stitch-a-long I'm doing...first class today (see sidebar).  But must move on to mothering tasks.  Time to cook the potatoes for potato salad and we'll do hamburgers as well.  Will pull out my fabric and threads after dinner.  It's been a good day. :)

(painting of 'young woman sewing' by gary melchers)

Thoughts rattling in my head

A bit ragged with talking children and rug-licking dogs today.  And with 3 of the dogs following me from room to room (oldest dog has more sense and sleeps all the time), to the doors/barking wildly when someone knocks at the door, and out back to hang out clothes----I could do with some alone time.  Doesn't take much.  Just a bit would be refreshing.

We dog sat for our next-door neighbor over the weekend and I commented to Gary how quiet their house was to me.  'Course with me sitting inside over there with their pug while our kids played in their backyard with their big dog, it was pretty still.  They don't have a squeaky ceiling fan in their living room, or a conure that makes racket all the time---not a lot, just little noises.  And they're not near the busy cut-through street, like our house is, with us on a corner.  I do love our busy, hectic life, but breaks are welcome because they provide a bit of a cushion to all of the activity.

So, if I get up in time for prayers at church (laughing to myself---will see how this plays out), was thinking of stopping and getting a fancy coffee on my way home.  A respite.  Just me.

Thinking I'm on to something here.

(not quite sure where the tea/cookie photo came from)

'To Heaven and Back' by Mary C. Neal, MD

In the past when I've read books about near death or true death/back-to-life experiences, I've looked forward to the part when the writer is actively in heaven.  I want to know what it's like (as does everyone)---to visualize it the best I can without going there.

After reading the beginning of Dr. Neal's book, called To Heaven and Back Again, which chronicles her life up until the accident that briefly claimed her life, I enjoyed reading of her reaching, what she called 'a brilliant hall'.  She said she:

'knew with a profound certainty that the entry [just past it] represented the last branch point of life, the gate through which each human being must pass.  It was clear that this hall is the place where each of us is given the opportunity to review our lives and our choices, and where we are each given a final opportunity to choose God or to turn away---for eternity.'

Those sentences stood out to me over everything else I read.  To imagine that there's one last chance was so encouraging.  We're often so smug about thinking of who gets to and who doesn't get to heaven, when we should be focusing on living our lives the closest to what we believe God's will to be.  Dr. Neal emphasizes that as well, speaking of her spiritual growth in the aftermath of her accident and how it benefited her with a later devastating grief concerning her immediate family.

Her story is pure encouragement, and I would definitely recommend her book for anyone who's searching for proof that heaven and eternal life truly exist.

(i received this book free to review from waterbrook press)

Just before dinner on Tuesday

Well, woke to my alarm, and fell back asleep with a quick prayer for the Lord to wake me up again if He wanted me to go to the prayer service this morning.  I'm so lame. Like He'd not want me to?  Yep, made it on time---was early in fact, thanks to good training from my husband to always arrive sooner than later.  (And they rang the church bell too.  A real bell with a rope that hangs at the back of the church.  I love that so much it makes me shiver.)  As it was last time I went, there were three of us---the rector/priest and one other man.  A sweet group, and from what I understand, always small since it's just hard to do this sort of thing first thing in the morning.  I get that.  You know I do.  Again we sat in the chancel, and I enjoyed being near the altar and all of the pretties.  At the end of the prayer service where in the Book of Common Prayer there's a spot to pray for other folks, the priest inserted those who had special needs.  I cried the last time I was there at this time, and it happened again.  Was reminded of the Lord saying that when 2 or more are gathered, there I am in the midst of them.  I realize that includes any group praying sincerely, but to be next to the altar---a holy place, makes it seem all the more special.  Maybe that's just me, but not having experienced this sort of 'church' before, causes it all to be so new.

So many modern churches make all areas of the church usable for whatever comes along.  There's nothing set aside as special and with the common usage of contemporary music and screens to show lyrics and Scripture, there's not a spot at the front of the church that's different from any other place.  That's just sad.  Am re-learning a different way to do things, and enjoy that while the altar area at church isn't off limits, it is special.

Anyway, what an excellent way to start, what was a very busy morning/afternoon.  Now am home.  Chicken simmers for chicken and stuffing.  I have a pile of library books and nothing pressing.  Least not for a day or two.  Can you hear me sigh?

More books

First off....hats off to my sweet, here on Father's Day.  My own dad passed away in 1993, so all of our energy goes into celebrating for my woodboy.  I do miss my daddy, though.

Finished reading the Joanne Harris book Five Quarters of the Orange late yesterday and right after that began reading To Heaven and Back by Dr. Mary C. Neal, the review book I'll write about sometime this week.  Both very good, quite different from one another, but I enjoyed each of them. The Harris has some strong language toward the end, but the storyline was great.  Liked that she wove in a diary/recipe book that made me wish someone had left me a treasure like that.

Love this quote in the heaven book---the author was commenting on how in her growing up years, the divorce of her parents made life feel a bit unsettled:

"The ritualized worship services of the Episcopal Church continued to sustain me and I found that their predictability gave a sense of stability to my swirling adolescence."

So very true.  I've told Gary that one thing I enjoy about the Anglican church is how it seems that life outside the sanctuary turns off for that hour.  I can't hear traffic, voices, and there are no distractions.  And the fact that the service is liturgical and the same every week makes me feel secure.  I know what to expect, and there's great comfort in that.

Know what I mean?

Pretties...

Source: artesehumordemulher.wordpress.com via Vic (Jane Austen's World) on Pinterest

Talking to myself...literally

Acknowledging the fact that a mother of many kids has a difficult time fitting in creative activities.  With the washing, cleaning, listening, correcting, hugging, loving, cooking, listening some more, sweeping, watering, focusing, and all that goes on, there's often little enthusiasm to do things just for the heck of it.  The urge is there, but the spirit is often just plain tired.  And the feeling of whining is a downer as well.  I don't want to belly-ache, but it's a reality.

Sometimes I figure that nobody really wants to listen to me (and that may be very true), but it doesn't change the fact that maybe somebody should.  Just this week, a friend/neighbor asked me how I was doing---said she'd been worried about me---maybe I've seemed off my game, don't know, but she asked and said to vent to her if I wanted to.  Well, I didn't vent (this was all in email), but shared with her about Patricia's passing and how my grieving talent has been overused of late.  Short note, to the point, and that's all I said. Hope I didn't say too much, but that's really rarely the case.  There is still a big void sitting next to me with Patricia's name on it and I can hear my voice echo inside it.  I'm not advancing too quickly, but don't think that I should. Sometimes I get the impression that we're meant to 'get on with it' though, but am afraid that's not what's working for me.  And don't you sometimes feel that folks ask how you are as more of a habit, than a true interest?  Speed seems to be the norm, and to stick around for what may be a long-winded response rarely fits into anyone's schedule anymore.

Oldest daughter has shared about being asked how she is, her responding specifically, and the other person launching into their own particular issue after she's begun to answer them.  She'll say, "Are you really interested, or what?"  But only in her head.

There's something so freeing about a person asking 'how you are' and really hanging around for the answer.  Or for someone to show concern and let you know that they want to get their teeth into your feeling better.

Mothers who care for a large family seem to get treated like they have all the answers, I guess because they/we juggle so many balls.  And we become very talented at disguising our true feelings, probably because there's always an audience.  And kids don't like to see their parents feel low.  That's a fact.

This is where blogging comes in.  A place to just chatter away, giving readers the opportunity to come and go, but giving me a place to say what's really on my mind.  I don't dress it up or put a sweet spin on it.  It's just living, plain and simple.  The pretty and the not-so-pretty.  Guess I just like it real.

Just before dinner

With the youngest kids at my mom's today, was able to think about stuff. Mainly my tendency to do more than I should.  I even got to thinking about my desire to go to prayer services on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, but my inability to get it in gear early enough.  Then I realized that it was turning into a chore-like sort of thing. Not sure my motivation---I think it's been innocent enough, but to exhaust myself in the process seems pretty self-defeating.  I do that.  Too much, and then....even then, feel I've not done enough. So I walk around feeling inadequate.

And fourth son mentioned to me this morning that I don't give myself much credit, as far as appearances go.  We were talking about some folks we met at a BBQ on Saturday night.  He was telling me that I looked younger than one of the women who was actually younger than me.  Really?  Not sure how to take that sort of information, but I like it.

So tonight will take deep breaths, read more of the Joanne Harris book (which I'm enjoying so much) and think about starting a new journal.  I bought some scrapbooking papers today, so maybe putter along with that.  And tomorrow's an easy day.  No getting out (I don't think) and home-time for all. Amen to that.

Now onto that chicken curry I made for dinner.

Such pretty colors...

Source: lazybones.com.au via junkgarden on Pinterest

A scattered sort of day

As fourth son said a little while ago, some days just don't even get off the ground.

I woke up (though did not get up) at 5:30am....who knows why, and after a few minutes, could hear stirrings in the kitchen.  Oldest son was up around then to go to work (like a normal person), but third son got up, fifth son got up and the dogs were likely scratching their furry heads wondering what was going on.  I still don't know.  Six o'clock and 3 boys up and moving about?  That doesn't even make sense.  At least not in this house, especially considering several of them were awake at 1am.

Anyway, I tried to go to church for the 8:30am prayer service, but my truck refused to start.  Nuts.  Ended up riding along with Gary as he went to the shop, so I could bring his truck back.  Shopped for birthday dinner for first-born, came home for a nap, washed clothes but not much else, and here I am resting in bed.  As I said, the day isn't progressing very far from how it began. And I still have to go fetch my woodboy.

But some days are like this, for some odd reason.  And with my truck sick, the kids won't go to my mom's for lunch on Thursday, but this pleases me.  One less outing.  Really, I'm so unsociable.  So not a people person.  So content with my own company (and my snoring pug, Daisy, who's asleep on my foot right now).

I sometimes wonder at what interruptions are God's work.  When we're running hell for leather and can't seem to find a stopping point, it seems likely that the Lord would put things in our path to trip us up.  Not to cause problems, but to allow us to slow down.  'S-okay with me.  I really love my life when nothing forces me to leave the house.  And when there's food and toilet paper to last a day or two, I call that nirvana.

(our kitchen early one morning...but not on this day!)

Just thinking

"Without the contemplative dimensions, the whole day can slip away into a mad chase, but those few minutes can give it meaning and joy.  And if you can set aside a little corner in your home, however modest, as a sanctuary, that space can readily conduct you each day back into the contemplative mode."~ from Music of Silence by David Steindl-Rast and Sharon Lebell.

You know, I like to post here and just jot down my thoughts.  It's settling in some odd sort of way.  Rarely does anything wild and crazy happen here---well, nothing any different than other folks, but it's a good way to keep up with things for me.  That's pretty much it.

But today ran away from me.  After sleeping in a bit, that rain I mentioned came in with a whoosh mid/late afternoon.  I mended our bedsheets on the sewing machine while the rain ran wild and the kids stayed in the further end of the house away from our big oak.  The wind was that amazing.  But all is well and we got a great rain, and it's cooler outside too.  Nice.

Tomorrow I plan on getting up for prayers at church, then will pay a visit to a couple of places to shop for birthday boy.  Minor chores.  Then home and icing his cake and making burgers.  Second son will buy him a steak from the restaurant and grill it here.  That's his gift to him.

Just ordinary things.  Wouldn't mind something thrilling happening, but not holding my breath!

Monday afternoon

Washing and hanging out clothes toot sweet so they can dry before the storm hits. It's HOT out there. I was in the backyard, putting out sheets and towels and the least one and I were melting. Daisy the pug was all of a pant as well. Man, it's hot. The humidity makes it so overwhelming, but really, there's a smack to the heat that's often refreshing. When you get all boiling and come inside to the cool air. It's like a slap in the face.   I sort of like it.

Nothing much else going on.  A minor ant infestation around the kitchen sink that's under control.  Must make not to not leave birthday cake dishes in the sink overnight.  The trials of not having a dishwasher.  Nothing new, though. In almost 30 years of marriage, we've had a working dishwasher, maybe, 2 years of that.  When we had a non-working one in a house rental, I just used it to put the dishes to drip dry.  Not a biggie.

Now must go.  Oldest daughter is picking up lunch for the two of us.   A treat in the middle of the day.  Take care, all.

(photo from stock exchange)

On a quiet Sunday afternoon

First off, the Nancy Mitford book, The Pursuit of Love, is wonderful (wanted you to know, Sara!).  In some odd way it reminds me of Shirley Jackson's 2 autobiographies of raising her children.  Those are called Raising Demons and  Life Among the Savages....well-worth a hunt.  I have a copy with both of Jackson's and have read them several times, and they always make me laugh.  Just daily stuff that we all experience, but so hilarious.

And Woodboy and I saw the movie, John Carter, last night and enjoyed it as well.  Not sure of the reviews for it, but since we liked it so much, doesn't really matter what others think.  Had a bit of steampunk spun into it and that's always a treat as well.  Love steampunk.

And now are planning on having sweet Indian boyfriend over for dinner. Both he and oldest son have birthdays on Tuesday, but oldest daughter made SIB's cake early since he's in culinary school in the evenings during the week.  His family usually goes out for ice cream on birthdays, but that's sort of blasphemy here at our house.  We do love our cake!  So, his chocolate chip cake is in the oven, and I already baked oldest son's German chocolate this afternoon.  Wanted to do it early (and will refrigerate it) in case the oven acts wonky later on.  We'll eat alfredo sauce/linguine for dinner with some veg. and watch cooking shows afterward.  The nice thing about SIB is that he loves the Food Network like we do.

Hoping tomorrow can be a chilling sort of day.  I have this area next to my bed I'm considering making into sort of an altar, and want to work on that. Just a little quiet spot to settle me when I need it.  For many fundamentalist types, it sounds vaguely odd to do that sort of thing.  No matter.  I ain't crazy.

::drool::

Source: curioussofa.blogspot.com via melissa on Pinterest

Reading and cooking

Just finished The Mermaid Chair this afternoon. Hard going through parts of it, mainly because it's so raw.  There's some swearing that seems to fit where it is---I tend to flinch with some talk in books...must be my upbringing that was/is easily shocked at certain things/behaviors.  But that's okay to be like that.  Proper decorum is a good thing, I'm thinking.  Trying to get past the tendency to be judgmental, but not being too awfully successful at it.  I have to remember that folks do stuff that would never enter my mind, but that's not a reason to be brutal in my criticism.  And to her credit, Kidd does have a knack for writing very soothing sentences.  She uses the phrase 'daily graces' in part of the story, talking about the mundane and routine things folks take for granted.  I like that.

I found many quotes that just seemed to fit.  And while I thought parts of the story a bit over the top---a monk about to take vows easily going into a relationship with a woman, who also is able to turn her back (albeit temporarily) on a 20 year marriage---seemed a bit unlikely, or maybe just so in the circles I find myself in.  Maybe I'm naive.  Okay, that's a given.  I am naive.

And have several books to look forward to.  I have a review copy to read of To Heaven and Back by Dr. Mary C. Neal that came today in the mail, about her near death experience, and just ordered a used copy of The Tortoise and the Hare by Elizabeth Jenkins. Looks dishy in its British cozy sort of way. Alison at Brocante Home recommended it, and she suggests the best reads. Also, oldest daughter is picking up a book for me at the library that's on hold...Nancy Mitford's The Pursuit of Love & Love in a Cold Climate : Two Novels.  Hope I enjoy them as much as the folks have who've written reviews.

Must go now.  There's chicken soup to put together and thinking of pairing it with hoecake.  Have never made that, but with the oven still acting in an unbecoming fashion, have turned into quite the resourceful 'on the stovetop' type of cook.  Take care.

The sandwich generation

Not keen on new news.  Guess I, pretty much, like things to stay the same. Went to my mom's with the kids, to leave them for lunch and the afternoon.  We'd gotten her some groceries beforehand, and after unloading, she told me she needed to talk to me.  I was in a bit of a hurry since I had 2 more stops to make and had cold things in the truck.  Anyway, I asked if it was something troublesome or urgent, and if it could wait until I came back to pick up the kids.   She said she'd follow me out to my truck and tell me---not sure she even wanted any of the kids to overhear.  In that space of a few seconds, my imagination flew all over the place.  She's so dramatic!  Said if she didn't say something to me today, my older brother would.  What am I supposed to think?  Well, all it was (not to belittle it at all) was that she wondered if I was interested in inheriting her house.  My two older brothers live out of town and aren't interested in the least.  I told her 'of course', and that seemed to settle her mind.  I don't like to think of inheriting, knowing what has to precede that, but am glad to put her at peace.  I knew this conversation was coming at some point, but still, don't like to think of it.

And two of our boys went out this morning looking at an apartment.  They'd be the first ones to move out, so more to ponder.

Wish sometimes I could stop the clock, and put a hold on everyone growing older and possibly leaving in one way or another.  Not realistic, huh?

In other news, reading Sue Monk Kidd's The Mermaid Chair and can't make a call yet on whether I like it.  Have heard Nancy Mitford mentioned lately by a few Brits and will pick up a couple of hers at the library later on.  She's highly thought of, it seems.  Cozy reads, comfort food for dinner and nothing else big and newsworthy to happen today, I don't think.  'Course there might be a few surprises I'm unaware of.  If I can put my mind in a serene place, that'd be perfect.  Will let you know how that goes.

(painting by stephen darbishire called 'summer flowers')

Treats~new mug!

This and that

An array of stuff today.  First off, went with oldest daughter to get her teeth x-rayed in preparation for 2 root canals, etc.  Since we're not insured, she's gotten into a local church-run health organization.  Her root canals will end up being about $150.00ea. versus $900.00ea. that a regular dentist would charge here, and her crowns will be $200ea.  Can't beat that.  Sort of third world prices, and I don't say that in a critical manner.  A friend of ours who's from Equador, had his crowns done down there because of cost.  I totally get that.  The only downside to this place our daughter is going to is that because I stay at home, don't have an outside job and don't have a child 6 or under---I'm not eligible.  Huh.  Penalties for those of us who choose to raise our kids, and stay at home even after they're school aged.  And homeschooling doesn't even enter into the equation.  I'd have to have an outside job of 20 hours/week to qualify.  Huh again.

Rested after that, and nap-time is always a joy. Finished my last Susan Hill in which one character suffers from what the British call 'motor neuron disease'....reminding me of my sweet neighbor who died from ALS.  It's the same sickness, with different names.  Wretched, wretched stuff.  But still, a winning story.

Now then.  Tomorrow is cleaning day with the boys finishing the front yard, the little ones weeding the front and dealing with the mess out back.  Really, having this puppy, Romeo, of ours using the re-cycle bin as a toy basket has gotten out of hand.  There are plastic bottles all over the yard!  Must tidy up.

And besides buying gas for the mower, I don't have to leave the house. Sounds splendid to me.  I need a good dose of home.

A summery Monday

Thunderstorms overnight, so the sleeping was cozy.  Overcast alternating with sun this morning, with the clouds winning out which means the clothes go into the dryer today. A bit of a relief, not having to hang them out.  One less trip out into the heat.  Besides, the washer and dryer are both in the kitchen, so it's simple to load and unload.

Will read my last Susan Hill mystery, and maybe go to the grocery store later on.  Feeling less jazzed, and able to take a breath.  Honestly, still having low spells regarding Patricia's death.  It takes so LONG.  I was reading older posts here last night, and saw that she'd written a comment on grief at one point---talking about her dad's death and some details about that.  Odd to 'hear' her voice speaking about something I'm dealing with in regards to her.  I still scratch my head at God's timing.  Seems so often we're not in sync.

But anyway, I'm here and recovering slowly.  It takes time.  Will gather my threads and embellishments for the embroidery class that's inching nearer---June 20th or the 21st.  Must check the dates.  Having fun, creative things to anticipate is healing.  And will cut some flowers to bring inside.  The daisies are up and the coreopsis.  The black-eyed Susans are about to pop as well. Love having my own cutting garden.  Must go now and move clothes.  Enjoy your day!

(dishy photo source unknown)

On Sunday afternoon

Oh my goodness.  Got caught up in a blog re-vamping situation this afternoon, but I must say, I like it.  Not so sure about the floral background, but will live with it for awhile.  My biggest challenge was that the template was designed by someone from Portugal, and had to change some wording.  See...I don't speak Portuguese!

But it's all in fun.  Nice to do something creative with so much else spinning in my head.  Feels like my skull is pressing against a brain that's grown in capacity.  I know it's stress.  Must develop better coping skills.

Church, however.  My, what a blessing.  The first hymn today was something called 'St. Patrick's Breastplate' and it was truly awesome.  Tried to find a suitable version of it on YouTube, but didn't have any luck.  You go ahead and try, though....really an astounding song.

Must go now.  Sweet Indian boyfriend and oldest daughter are on their way to make us chili.  And I need to take fourth son out for a little errand.  You take care.

Taking a breather

Am finding that 53 is a hard age.  I can't put my finger right on why, but it just is.  Those of you in my decade will understand...it's hard to explain unless you're actually there.  I remember when my mom was my age, she was being prescribed valium by a 'not-so-well-meaning' doctor. He didn't take her symptoms very seriously, and chose to dose her with enthusiasm than using that same vigor to listen to what was really wrong with her.  There was a time when she'd leave the dinner table abruptly, and it happened a lot.  Nobody ever went after her.  We'd exchange looks, not doing much better than her doctor.  Something would upset her and she'd go to their bedroom, but we chose to figure she was over-reacting and not really facing something difficult.

Wish I'd been more sympathetic then, because I've won the concern of my own family.  They take good care of me and feel for me when there are tears that come out of nowhere.

Another dear person to our family died last Saturday.  Gary went to his funeral today, and in a crowd of about 100 folks, he was the only white man there.  That must've been something.  To be honest, this sweet gentleman was the boyfriend of our across-the-street neighbor and she was the 'other woman'.  He was married for 49 years to someone else, and our neighbor was his lady friend---I guess you could call it.  He was a treasure, even if he tended to have an unfaithful streak.  He worked on our bathroom a couple of years ago, replacing a rotten floor and the plan was that sometime, when we had the money, he'd re-tile it.  We're still living with the wooden subfloor, but with black enamel paint on it, it works. The tile will have to wait even longer.

With my sensitive mood, these past few months, becoming undone when sadness hits is harder.  I'll tell you, I'm sick of death.  Three people at church have died in the last couple of weeks, and in a small church, that's sort of amazing.  A respite from difficulties, mine or someone else's, would be a pleasant change.  But if you put yourself out there to care, then it goes without saying, the pain will have to become your neighbor. Not that you like all your neighbors.

(as a side-note...have imported my old Contemplative Joy posts here, going back to 2009, linked below.  good to have it all in one place...just missing the 6 months of mid-June 2011-Dec 2011, I think, when the blog was hacked.)