Winding up the week

Had the van for the day (all to myself) and went to the used bookstore at the main library.  Found a few treasures, the best one being a 1950s Fanny Farmer Cookbook for $3.  Hardback, looked unused and thrown in for free---that wonderful used-book smell.  I collect Fanny Farmers, and already have about six or seven copies, all different.  Also got a hardback edition of The Shell Seekers for a buck, and also for that price, Geneen Roth's book Women, Food and God.  The only unusual thing I brought back home was a book about immigrants called Bread Givers by Anzia Yezierska---about Jewish immigrants in New York.  Not in my field of interest, but I liked the title, and the Forward and Introduction were so full of praise for the book.  Let's say I'm egotistical to the point of mostly limiting my immigrant-type reading to the folks I'd be related to:  Germans, the English, and American Indians.  The Jewish people have usually been out of my frame of reference.  

Spent a few minutes mesmerized at the music in the bookstore.  Joni Mitchell was playing on their system, and the most haunting song came on.  I asked them what it was, but they didn't know.  I was able to write down enough of the lyrics and found it online.  River.  Never heard of it, but Gary knew the song when I just played it for him (kudos to Spotify again).  At the bookstore, I just stood there.  Made me laugh...a man who was shopping kept glancing over at me, probably wondering why I was just standing there swaying with a look on my face.  Or maybe I entranced him by my awesome beauty.  Yeah, that's it.  Anyway, I just loved the song.  Plus the speakers in the library are so wonderful.  Truth, even a lousy song sounds good with a fancy sound system.

The way I'm looking at life now is this.  I don't give a rip if I look odd out in public.  We've been smacked upside the head with such outrageous behavior in our family, I feel I can behave any way I like.  I'll not embarrass anyone, but I do want to begin enjoying my crazy, mixed up life.

That is all.

(listening to tobyMac's Speak Life)

Thursday morning

Yesterday we delivered my mom's groceries to her, and we all noticed she had more food in her fridge/freezer than seemed appropriate.  With her constant fear of running out of money (which won't happen), my concern is she'll curtail her eating so as to conserve.  My thinking is that she'll drink her Ensures for meals when she should be eating real food.  Can't be certain, but it's a possibility.  Must watch her.

Her Social Security deposits automatically on the third of the month, but with that being near the weekend, it might go in early.  She's afraid that suddenly it won't deposit, and it even keeps her up at night.  Every month, toward the end, she begins to fret and lose sleep.  Can't reason with her, being that her brain just can't seem to keep up.  It just doesn't sink in, no matter what I say.

And on it goes.

* * *

What with juggling her bill-paying, cleaning and food-buying----added to that concern for our children, life is a full-time job.  Heck.  Used to, when the kids were small, I'd sit and cross-stitch.  All.  The.  Time.  Have a baby perched on my shoulder and stitch away.  Our youngest son was raised that way, more than the others, and he's nineteen.  Not sure when I began pulling away from handwork and just began cleaning, and that not awfully well.  Cleaning is a skill I struggle to maintain on a daily basis.  Most times I tend to sit in one spot with a glazed expression on my face.  I will say this in my defense, though.  I know my daughters.  When we finish whatever we're doing at any particular time during the day, we gather in the living room and talk.  A couple or more times a day.  The girls and me.  Sometimes youngest son, if he can pull himself away from his drawing.  If I don't have handwork to show for my time, I do have solid relationships with my girls.  And with me never having a sister, this is treasure indeed.

'Longing for Paris' by Sarah Mae

There are a few Christian women's books I set apart as vital to my walk.  Sometimes they're old books, the tried and true, but sometimes I'm surprised by a new finding.  That's how it is with Sarah Mae's Longing for Paris.  It'll go in my special pile.

Sarah brings joy to life in her book, talking about her actual longing for Paris, and how she incorporates small blessings into her daily life.  Her sub-title is 'One Woman's Search for Joy, Beauty, and Adventure---Right Where She Is.'  And she succeeds.

With tenderness and an acute ability she talks about disappointments and fears, and walks the reader through simple tasks and routines to reach God's best for us.  Individually His best, since we're all made in His image, but are oh, so different than one another.

This book is a joy to read, deep at times, and full of sweetness.  It's a book I'd want to buy in bulk to give to friends.  To recommend reading with a pen/pencil handy.  It's definitely one to mark up.

(i received this book free to review from tyndale publishers)

Moving right along...sort of

Three trips to the DMV, still no van title in the making.  Family of owners of it having to send for death certificate.  Funny how the mistake of one person, the girl who hit my husband's Suburban totaling it, has caused a long trail of involvement by other persons.  Thankfully we have a car tag to fasten on the vehicle temporarily, even though it's not the correct one, but it does belong to us.

So, for me at least, today is a rest day.  Dinner made with whatever's in the freezer.  Mom's not wanting her groceries, so they'll just sit here until maybe tomorrow.  Going to vacuum, using the new one we got on clearance last night.  Taking a much-needed quiet day.

Got so bothered by life in general yesterday, and today is for healing.  After the DMV nonsense, involving some mis-information, we're just tired and fed up.  Ready for something to happen in our lives that points to some smooth sailin'.  Just doesn't seem to be in our job description here lately.

But until that occurs, it's important for me to shake myself, keep my face on the Lord, and not allow disappointment shatter me or define my day.  One day at a time.  Certainly.

'The Curse of Crow Hollow' by Billy Coffey

Billy Coffey's latest book The Curse of Crown Hollow succeeds in eliciting fear from his readers, that's a fact.  Maybe it's my time of life now, with facing my own demons, but his book was hard to read.  Evil, even only imagined, was very realistically portrayed, and add ignorance to that mix and you have a varied collection of characters.  Plus, I'd not recommend it for late-night reading.  For me it was that frightening, and I think that's, pretty much, the point.

The story takes place in a Southern town, told in an effective Southern voice with a narrator whose identity is hidden until the end.  Four teenagers go to a place on the mountain that's strictly forbidden, are supposedly cursed by one they call the witch, and the rest of the story plays out on the result.  Rumors, myths, painful memories, and suddenly-brought-on-illness---all of these situations work together.

I found too many characters to keep up with, and even though each person was described in great detail, they oftentimes meshed together.  I had to flip back to remember who a person was in relation to the story.

Coffey's a gifted storyteller, and this book proves it.  An entertaining read for the fall, when you want to be scared.  And even though The Curse of Crow Hollow is published by a Christian publishing company, I fail to really see many Christian overtones.  Subtle at best.  Some mild, expected language, which my teenage daughter found offensive, but maybe would be missed by many.  I'd recommend it for a more mature, worldly reader.

(i received this book free to review from booklookbloggers)

The week's beginning

Glad to be at this end of the day.  Seems we were busy with trying to tag the van (more papers needed, yet to get) and buying Mom's groceries and I had a rocky night's sleep besides after beginning to read one of my review books.  Lots of creepy stuff in it (like old Frank Peretti books) and being that I've been living on the bedrock of unpleasantness for so long, well, it was unsettling.  Going to get back to reading my Faulkner before bed.  Always a good idea.  

Rarely do I desire to change my routine.  Rituals are so wonderful.  And funny thing is, the best part of today was a few minutes, get this, when I brought my little jade plant up from the bedroom and looked for a place to put it in the kitchen.  It's been in my bedroom window and in the late afternoon it's been so hot on that side of the house (because of our neighbors cutting down most of their trees), and the little plant has been dropping leaves.  Burning up.  I stood there in front of the sink, looking for a saucer to set it on, and it took all my attention to the extent that my spirit settled right down.

Isn't that the oddest thing?  Sometimes just quiet and concentration brings peace.  Focusing on a tiny thing, even a little jade.  Re-potting small plants always calms me down.  Or pruning the flowers on the porch.  

I get interrupted a lot.  Always have.  Called being a mom.  Maybe getting out my needlework would be a good idea.  That's always brought down my blood pressure, I know for a fact.  

Have to keep my spirits up and turned towards the Lord.  Considering we're working against the evil one in a battle for our sons, pays to be on top of our game.  The little suckers are always listening...and yeah, I mean you.  As I've said before, God wins.  All of it.

(on Spotify it's Shawn McDonald singing We Are Brave)

The Anglicans score once again...

Woke up a bit depressed, but thankful that being at church and being IN church helped immensely.  Arranged the roses which looked so colorful---pastels, red and yellow (Fresh Market had them for $6.99/dozen) and it's always nice when the expense is manageable, even though I get re-imbursed.  One of the older women at church thanked me for doing the flowers on a regular basis, saying how expensive it would be for a florist to do them. A little praise goes a long way, especially when I rarely hear any comments.  I think it's easy for all of us to take one another for granted, when a bit of an honest compliment is never inappropriate.

* * *

Our priest talked about a convention that was held in Texas earlier this month.  The Anglicans coming out strong against same-sex marriage, female priests and the sermon today was all about it...how the church is the Bride of Christ, and it's clearly inappropriate for the priest/minister to be a woman.  Men and women do have separate roles in life, like it or not.  He said it much more eloquently than I ever could, going into beautiful detail.  (My vocabulary has suffered greatly with the stress of the past few months---not kidding, so my thoughts tend to be on a fourth-grade level.)  Anyway, among other things our priest shared about a woman who used to be an Episcopal priest and felt the Lord convicting her to renounce her vows, which she did, and she now speaks against the ordination of women.  Her life has even been threatened because of her decision.  Isn't that just ridiculous?

Very grateful to be part of a church which follows historic tradition regarding such important issues.  Truly, if the church becomes so enamored in overlooking blatant sin, we're sunk.  The trend I'm seeing in friends who are in their thirties and pastoring in other denominations is to be so sympathetic to the varied lifestyles of their parishioners that they just give a passing glance to what used to be (in their eyes) considered sinful behavior.  Love the sinner/hate the sin has become love the sinner and ignore the sin.  They forget (as my husband says) that God is Holy.  He'll say, "Yes, God is love, but He's also Holy and can't look on sin."  We're all about looking on sin and enjoying every minute.

Personally I don't get the attraction to being knee-deep in blatant sin.  Doesn't it get weighty and tiresome?  How can it be better than a life free from that burden?  With our sons, I just don't get it.  And good grief, they didn't just pick lifestyles that border on evil, but they wanted the whole meal.  Maybe that's part of my reason for being so adamant in my beliefs, and so joyful at being part of a church with a strong stance.  Love hearing the passion in our priest's voice and other members when we agree on these things.  Several folks nodded their head during the sermon, my husband even slipping in a quiet Amen. His Baptist side creeps in every once in awhile.

Saturday night

Have been paying attention to my negative physical reactions to certain things---things that stress me and such.  Some things will cause my heart to pound, or my breath to tighten up and be shallow.  I never knew before here lately, that I could identify things like that.  Learn what to avoid.  Amazing.  Have always allowed Life to just happen, and then I'd react either with or against it.

No more, or let's just say I'm working on it.

Sometimes it's a conversation with a neighbor or a child.  A news topic, or my mom's life.  And while I can't become a hermit and just disappear, which is an appealing, non-viable option at times, I can learn to manage in better ways.

* * *

I love the van.  So happy to say that.  The stains on the carpet came up and the outside washed a treat.  Now, I realize everyone won't understand our angst this week.  Put it up to a family (that would be us) who have been beat up enough and the smallest thing can send us into spasms.  Getting the van, spending money we didn't want to have to spend, troubles with the title....all frustrating.  Enough about that.

Tomorrow is Sunday, a fresh new day and week.  Yes.  We'll go the DMV on Monday morning to get the title situation straightened out and hope to get new tags.  And you know what I crave to experience in the midst of all of this?  To feel the Lord's presence so clearly right by my side, and to lean.  Just lean.

* * *

I'm reading to review Sarah Mae's newest book called Longing for Paris and she has a list of questions at the back.  Number one is: Are there any areas of your life that you don't feel you can trust God with fully?  And the fourth one is: What is your greatest fear in handing over every area of your life to Him?

Gulp.  That's my response.  Gulp.

You might have a handle on those sorts of questions, but I don't.  

Try this one.  Number fourteen is:  Do you have a dream or a longing in your soul?

I look at the questions, look at the ceiling and have no clue.  Absolutely no clue.  But I'm willing to think on it.  I will answer them, but it may take awhile.

(music to listen to on Spotify....Dan Bremnes' songs Born Again, Beautiful and Where the Light Is.  The CD is called Where the Light Is)

Well, phooey.

Blah, blah, blah.  Gripe, gripe, gripe.  Van repairs put snafu on getting a second vehicle right now, but Gary's being philosophical about it, well, after he got frustrated.  Considering we got the van for free, the stuff the mechanic's doing is pricey, but still, cheaper than what we'd pay for the van.  Gary keeps saying, though, "But I'd not buy this van if it was up for sale!  Wouldn't even look twice at it."  But we're going to go with the flow. 

On the bright side, the van has a/c, and the dead Suburban did not.  An advantage, to be sure.  But with Gary, he identifies with what he drives.  A guy thing, I guess.  I tend to just enjoy something that looks reasonably decent and runs well.  Maybe I'm too easy.  Possibly that's a pitfall I've gotten used to.  Maybe sometimes my perspective is so skewed to acceptance of what IS, that I fail to see that there are other possibilities.

Life is hard.  It just is.  Blessings come, yes, but the bumps along the road make it difficult to be joyful, when you probably really should be joyful.  I just got my hopes up to have my own vehicle after so many years.  Might still happen, but not anytime soon.  Unless someone else is giving something away.  That would just be weird.

I am grateful for a replacement for our Suburban.  Don't get me wrong.  I know not to be a big whiner (well, too much of one), but I really was figuring we'd get the oil changed, engine light check figured out and off we'd go.  Okay, five things were flagged by the engine light.  Moolah.

Some of you might not understand why this is a problem.  The thing is, we've gotten caught in this pattern of life throwing us curve balls and nothing seems easy.  Catches along the way.  Our money is always so tight, and to think, even for a short time, that we'd be able to afford me to have a vehicle during the day and Gary could have a pickup for work, was so splendid.  A luxury.

And I'm tired of busted stuff.

Smooth sailing would be a pleasant change.  Was thinking of things to name the van.  Now I'm thinking Job.

A quiet day

Today is a gift I'm giving myself.  I'm figuring the next couple of days will be busy enough with picking up the van/taking it to the mechanic for a once-over, so today is a laying low sort of day.  Necessary to balance out everything.

And it's only 83F outside right now, a bit cloudy and I can definitely do that.  It's been so blistering hot, and this is nice.  Cicadas are making noise, chickens outside my bedroom window are fussy (they want to free-range in the yard, I know), and the window is up.  Still pleasant enough this morning to do that.

Avoiding the news, because if I read it, I'll just get riled up.

Oldest daughter bought ingredients to make something delicious and Chinese for dinner.  Will putter in the house, tidy it up, maybe cut some flowers for the table later on after the sun sets off of them.  Looking forward to some rainy days.  Hope we get some.

That's, pretty much, it.  Rest which is good and more necessary the older and more scattered I get. 

This post reminds me of going to the drugstore and only buying sodas and toilet paper.  Not big stuff, but things that make up an ordinary day.  May yours be as uneventful.

Monday noon

Last night in bed I began reading, yet another, Faulkner book.  This one is Absalom, Absalom! and by some is said to be his masterpiece.  Had to laugh at the length of his sentences.  The first page is two sentences long---drawn out and full.  Almost poetic how he uses his words.  Words I've never heard before, full of vowels and promise.  

Just had my tea and have been relaxing in bed.  It's almost noon and figured a rest would be a good way to begin the week.  Oldest daughter asked if anything was hanging fire this week, and I told her no.  Actually, we'll get the van (probably on Wednesday), and possibly Gary will be able to get something to replace the Suburban.  I'm praying it can all come about before the weekend.  He's been scouting out Craigslist and, as anyone knows who's shopped there, every day is filled with possibilities.

Anyway, glad to begin a new week.  Getting recovered in a mental way from the accident, which was 2 weeks ago today.  Thankful Gary isn't having anymore back pain.  Always lots happening.

I'll wash the sheets and hang them out, shop for Mom and we'll get her house clean, then I'll feel I can tackle my own nest here.  Like getting her done early and can set her aside in my head.

An ordinary few days will be a treat.  Rain supposedly coming too.  And I figure if we can survive the heat today (yesterday's heat index was 111F.), then lower nineties will feel almost cool.  Yeah, go ahead and laugh.

* * *

Got a text last night from someone who's a friend of son-who's-in-California, with a couple of photos of the beach (and our son) in Oregon where they've taken the retreat staff for a break.  He's sitting on a rock with lots of fog, looking at the water.  He's never seen the ocean before.  I remember my first time, when we went before our wedding to spend Christmas with Gary's folks.  Drove non-stop from here to Maryland.  He took me to Atlantic beach and I remember the sound of the waves before we walked over the dunes.  Never expected it to be so loud.  I cried.  Our son looks a bit awestruck in the picture, which reminded me of my experience.  God seems so enormous at the beach, if you let Him.

The chickens are making chickeny sounds, so might go sit out with them before the heat becomes overwhelming. Already 91F and sunny.  Will take them some cold, chopped up lettuce and lend encouraging words.

Surprises

Cool story.  I mentioned Owl City last night, how there was a new CD and how middle daughter had waited for it so long.  She loves this guy, Adam Young, who IS Owl City.  Just one young man who does all of it.  Anyway, our daughter has talked for years about wanting to see him in person but he's not been set to tour here.  Well, at church one of her girlfriends said she was going to see him in Nashville this fall with one of her other friends.  Her mom was taking them.  She assumed our daughter would go too.  Well, we'd not entertained it---cost, travel, etc.  See, we don't live in Nashville.

Our sweet girl was so bummed when we got home from church, mainly because her friend at church isn't a real fan of his, was just going because her friend asked her.  Middle daughter said it's odd how some folks get things to fall in their lap, and they don't even really care. I told her I understood---seems sometimes we want a particular thing and agonize over it and someone else just walks into it, no sweat.  Read the Psalms and see they're full of that happening.

The girls and I got to talking in the living room and I said, "Why don't we just figure how to do it?"  Her eyes lit up and I've never seen her look so amazed.  Gary came in from the porch and I asked him if we could try to make it happen.  So we plotted and planned, and then he pulled out his debit card and said to go for it.  He's all about spontaneity.  And, happy dance, pre-sale tickets are way cheaper than they will be later on.

So, the girls and I will have a road trip, see the show, stay overnight and maybe play the day after.  We've never done anything like this, and honestly, after the year (or two) we've had, this will be a well-deserved treat.  We all need it.

The countdown is supposedly 78 days.  This daughter makes me laugh. :)  Youngest son said she's going to drive us crazy before then.  So be it!  She's on our bed now, and just caught my eye and said, "We're going to Owl City!"  Eyebrow waggle. 

Weekend thoughts

*Listening to Owl City's newest CD, Mobile Orchestra, which middle daughter has been waiting for for ages and ages.  So upbeat, and nice it's on free Spotify on the laptop.  She bought a copy online, but it's easier for me to just listen this way, until I load her copy.  Bird with a Broken Wing (#6) is beautiful and the lyrics cut me to the quick.  And #4 and #7 are pretty darn good too.

*Seems on Monday or Tuesday we'll be able to go see the van our friends are offering us.  He reassured Gary on the phone today that it runs fine.  I feel better about it....can release my concerns and let the Lord handle the details.  The couple have been involved in a custody situation with his wife's son, who she had previous to their marriage.  Allegations of unpleasant abuse by a playmate.  Not pretty.  We'd not heard from them because they'd been advised by their lawyer to leave their house and stay at a hotel.  So sad.  They have custody of the boy, who's only five, for six months now, though.  Time will tell what happens next.  Lots of prayer.

* * *

*Hot as the Dickens here.

*Feeling pretty Jake, though.  Not fretting.  House note paid and the utility bill is sort of caught up.  Not going to worry about anything else, at least not for the rest of the weekend.  Expecting balances being paid next week for a couple of jobs my woodboy finished, which is sweet to know.

*Had our own Communion service tonight here again.  You might remember youngest son won't take the common cup at church, so about once a month, we're doing it ourselves here.  Sweet.  I looked up some verses regarding spiritual interference, point to the importance of keeping our tent clean (Gary's favorite topic lately).  Focused on remembering God is with us no matter what we're doing at the time.  Constant company.

*Got the altar all set up tonight, flowers bought and arranged too.  Now tomorrow morning won't be such a rush. Nice to putter at the church, tidy the Nave, make sure the little dishes that are outside the doorways have blessed water in them (you can tell I'm still not-learning terminology), straighten the Prayer Books and Hymnals in the back of the pews, cut some Hydrangeas to put in the main meeting room, etc.  Housekeeping in general.  I'm good in a behind-the-scenes situation.

Looking forward to Sunday.  And thanks, your prayers are cherished.

Friday morning

Fridays.  One of my favorite days of the week.  Today there's a tiny bit of stress, though, not having heard back since Tuesday from the couple who have offered their van.  Supposedly they're hunting down the title.  I so get that mentality---me, the person who never remembers where I put things.  The husband shared with my woodboy some issues with the van over and beyond the transmission being rebuilt 20,000 miles ago, being very blunt, and it makes me a bit antsy.  He won't let his wife drive it with the kids in it, but is okay giving it away.  Gary flew right by that comment, but I was left scratching my head.  Given that we'll have to drive it from their house over the river to get it here, I don't know, maybe I'm just paranoid.

Okay, I am paranoid.  Life has been too paranoid-producing these past few months (and I'm sure you're tired of that old song and dance) and we're in the mode of just waiting for the next slap-down.  Not a healthy attitude, but it's the only one I've got to go on now.

Now, don't fuss at me.  Just trying to build up my courage again.  A daily challenge.  Gary and I both feel as if someone consistently has their foot poised to trip us up, and we keep falling over it.  Literally.
  

I read a quote in The Reivers last night which was so spot on, I could've written it myself.  Correction.  I'm no Faulkner, but the quote was perfect for my mental state.  And is today.

"Because what I wanted was to be back home.  I wanted my mother.  Because you should be prepared for experience, knowledge, knowing:  not bludgeoned unaware in the dark as by a highwayman or footpad.  I was just eleven, remember.  There are things, circumstances, conditions in the world which should not be there but are, and you cant escape them and indeed, you would not escape them even if you had the choice, since they too are a part of Motion, of participating in life, being alive.  But they should arrive with grace, decency.  I was having to learn too much too fast, unassisted; I had nowhere to put it, no receptacle, pigeonhole prepared yet to accept it without pain and lacerations."

When you feel as I do (we do) now, folks who are living comfortably have the tendency to try to set you straight, get you out of your doldrums.  Commiseration is more appropriate now.  Understanding and compassion.  I'm waiting for the eternal shoe to drop, and unfortunately, it keeps on dropping.  A quiet weekend with no, absolutely no, drama would be nice.

Positives:  We have the money from the girl's insurance settlement on the Suburban in our hot little hands.   A blessing, and you wonder what the heck's the problem, huh?  Indecision, I guess.  We have the rental until Thursday, which is nice.  I think we need dinner out. :)

'Go Ahead & Like It' by Jacqueline Suskin

As far as Jacqueline Suskin's book Go Ahead & Like It goes, I'd have to say that I'm on the fence about it.  I like the idea of her book, but have some issues with it.  I did enjoy reading it and getting to inspired think about the things around me.  Figured our kids might think it was clever, when smack, there's the profanity.  Now, realizing the world today is different than I was younger, seeing/reading certain words still surprises me.  I didn't like the book so much anymore.  Actually pasted a picture on top of the list that offended me.  Guess I used it for what I figured it was originally intended by reading the description, thinking it was more of an interactive scrapbook sort of thing.  

Still, to give Suskin credit, the book is appealing in a way.  Retro-style photographs with a look of seventies-style pictures.  A variety of torn out lists written on old envelopes, cards and odd pieces of paper.  Nicely arranged.

But sadly the ever-common profanity stole my fun.  It wasn't near as enjoyable to read after that page.

(i received this book free to review from bloggingforbooks)

Books

Took middle daughter to the bookstore before dinner, but we had to wait until a pretty amazing wind/rainstorm blew through.  Gary had us stay outside on the front porch during the worst bits.  Our twenty-five year old Oak in the front yard actually twisted in the wind, but wasn't harmed.  He had us on the porch to get us as far away as possible from our Oak in the backyard.  It's over sixty years old and looms over the back of the house.  During storms we gravitate away from it.  We're smart that way.

Anyway, I was able to get another used Faulkner at the bookstore I didn't have--this one is Absalom, Absalom!  I still get all excited to read my Faulkners at bedtime.  For some odd reason, he's such a comfort.  I know what to expect even when I'm not expecting it.  He draws a line with awful characters, writing in a way to suggest situations rather than spelling them out.  I've said this before.  Even in the one I'm reading now, The Reivers, one man runs a brothel here in downtown Memphis and at first he seems harmless, but is just plain mean.  With few words, but carefully chosen ones, Faulkner gives the reader a perfect depiction of this man's lack of character.  

I got a used paperback by Lin Yutang as well.  I'm always noting his quotes I find, not realizing he wrote books I could actually buy.  This one is The Importance of Living.  The subtitle is The Classic Bestseller That Introduced Millions to the Nobel Art of Leaving Things Undone.  Isn't that appealing?  And it originally was published in 1937, so his way of dealing with the topic of women, for instance, is more old-fashioned than the world accepts these days.  

Speaking of women, here's a quote from The Reivers:  "Because women are wonderful.  They can bear anything because they are wise enough to know that all you have to do with grief and trouble is just go on through them and come out on the other side.  I think they can do this because they not only decline to dignify physical pain by taking it seriously, they have no sense of shame at the idea of being knocked out."  For some reason, I just love that quote.  Just wish I could live up to it.

Take care.

Monday night

There's something wonderful about getting things done and out of the way and loving how it frees my mind.  My mom's got her groceries in, bed changed, bathroom cleaned, kitchen tidied and counters wiped down.  She's in high cotton until Friday when our youngest son stays the day with her.

And tonight I used the weedeater on the yard and Gary mowed a bit, including the vacant house next door.  Youngest son will finish tomorrow the cutting and the girls will sweep.  Gary's still quite sore from the accident, but as I've said, he won't stop doing.

Chores done, at least on my part.

* * *

Some friends from church called this morning, said they'd given something up to prayer, and offered us their 2004 Ford van to have.  To have.  At that time we'd not heard from the insurance company, so I said we'd pray.  She sent me information about the van via text and it looks wonderful.  She said they'd been given it awhile back, had used it and now have something else.  Later this afternoon we heard about the settlement and it's modest, but at the same time, generous, especially considering we had a 1989 Suburban.  So, now we're not sure what to do.  I'd love to have a ride again (especially if Gary could get something for work later), and truth is, if we accept it, we'll offer them something for it.  Gary needs something for work he can haul things in, but he's not sure a minivan is the ticket.  So, we're praying.  Sort of amazed at their offer.  We shall see.

Tea tomorrow morning.  Quiet.  Reading in bed.  Painting trim in the kitchen.  Turning off noises that mess up my head.  And one more day with no sugar.  So far, so good.  I have to look at my health one-day-at-a-time, like everything else.  As I clean one tiny bit at a time in the house, the same routine will, hopefully, pay off with my physical well-being.

Saturday at home

Nat'l Guard son called me last night.  He'd been at camp down in Mississippi for over two weeks, so it was wonderful to hear from him.  He got an expected promotion and unexpected commendation from his superior officers as well.  As hard as Basic Training was last year, he's grown from it, so it was all for good.  And he came by tonight, unexpectedly, as we were eating, and he had a plate with us.  Feeling blessed.

Also, second son called me from California this afternoon while I was out.  Sat in Fresh Market's parking lot (ate a delicious chicken salad sandwich) and talked for 45 minutes.  Another blessing.  He's a bit torn up about a girl he was interested in---she told him last week she didn't want to pursue a relationship, but he said she let him down very sweetly.  Doesn't make it any easier.  I told him I believed if God is over a situation like that, that you don't have to anguish over making it work. Not that it'll be pain-free, but a couple who belong together sort of meld.  I believe that.  From the start she was so hesitant, and he had to work so hard to keep her interested.  She was almost fearful.  But happily, he'll be coming for a two-week visit in September.  We're all over the moon.  His job there ends in early November and he'll be here (I believe he said) over the winter and may go back next spring.  Don't know and don't have to think that far.

Why am I telling you all of this?  Guess to set up a level playing field.  I'm so proud of my kids who are trying, really trying.  Balances out the ones who cause us to wrestle.  

* * *

Hot here.  So hot.  The poor chickens pant and hold their wings away from their little bodies.  We put frozen soda bottles underneath their roosting perch at night, and they actually seem excited to bed down at night.  I figure the cold air rises and cools their lizard-like feet.  At least that's the idea.

This is the heat that causes Southerners to go a bit mad.  Maybe that's why writers from here are all a bit strange.  All of them.  My favorite wonderful Faulkner as well.  Story has it he refused to have an air conditioner in his house, and the day after he died, his wife had one installed.  That's what we were told.  It's still there in the house.

Hoping the rest of the weekend is restful.  Gary's having some back pain which we're attributing to the accident.  He's not seriously hurting, but he just needs to chill.  We told him to stay at home from church tomorrow.  Sleep in.  Sounds healing.  Our sensibilities are so worn, we could all do with some idle time.  Easy to get ruffled with this and that, but for the weekend we're good.

Nosy neighbors

My husband says it's more totalitarianism, yet here in a mild way.  It's odd to me what presses folks' buttons anymore.  Our neighborhood association, which we used to be members of before they got so controlling---has begun (according to our oldest daughter who reads their FB page) to post photos of houses in the neighborhood which show wise landscaping choices.  The aim being to thwart crime, and let me tell you, folks are paranoid.  The thing is, every photo shows little marshmallow bushes and lots of space.  We don't comply, so won't have our photo up.  We're the example of what not to do.  

Used to, you could landscape and have a pretty yard, and be left alone.  Now seems folks want to have a hand in your business, which for me, is a new thing.  I'm used to living way under the radar, in all areas.  (Maybe being homeschoolers, that's been a necessary choice in my opinion.)  We landscaped so we could sit on the front porch and not be watched, being the houses are so close together.  It's a nice hideaway.  But porch sitting in our neighborhood is a long gone pass-time.  Nobody much does it, sadly enough.  Guess they're staying inside by the windows watching out, being fearful.

Personally I think home should be all about sanctuary and feeling safe.  Not having to judge our actions on whether anyone else approves.  Gosh, that's not inviting.  The biggest laugh, however, came when the president of the association was cited by the city recently when they toured the neighborhood, looking for violations.  She got hit with five citations.  Her house is neat and tidy, but they have motorcycles they're working on and some construction that's been long-going.  Apparently that's a no-no.

Justice is sweet, even when I'm just watching from the sidelines. Behind the bushes.

'Jesus Was an Airborne Ranger' by John McDougall, Chaplain, US Army Rangers

The first draw to me in reading Chaplain John McDougall's book Jesus Was and Airborne Ranger came as a result of having a son in the military.  The references and style of writing was very crisp and to-the-point, just as you'd expect from someone in the service.

And considering what I know about the worldliness and harshness (from my son's experience) of the military life, I so appreciate McDougall's book.  He speaks plain and with conviction.  No frills, but truth.

He shares how we've made Christ into a very weak and ineffective sort of God.  Tolerant of the most deviant behavior and more on the sidelines than truly interested in our lives in a personal way.  

He says:  "I don't know about you, but the meek Messiah is far too timid to confront the pressing realities of evil that I, my family, and my fighting men face every day.  He's much too tolerant to stand up for what's right and true and noble and good.  If we follow the wrong Jesus, then we will become like flavorless salt or a hidden candle---completely useless." (Matthew 5:13, 15) 

I hope this book is an encouragement especially to the men and women in the armed forces who daily face discouragement and harsh realities.  He is able.

(i received this book free to review from bloggingforbooks)

'Annunciation' by Ron Teachworth

It seems to me by reading other reviews of Ron Teachworth's book called Annunciation that they were so taken with his information on frescoes and Renaissance art that they overlooked one main issue:  Mr. Teachworth has no command of dialogue at all.  His characters have very wooden conversations, and while he does make an effort, the end result is very plain and unemotional.

To give him credit, he's done his research on Fra Angelico's work in Italy and also da Vinci.  There were a few inconsistencies, but none that affected the book like his dialogue.  

The story opens with American Catholic students going to Italy to repair frescoes that needed cleaning and with others help, restoration.  So far, so good.  There's some drama, a mystery involving some work of Leonardo da Vinci's that had been hidden for centuries, a romance and a plot to kill then-Pope John Paul II.  Sounds appealing and shows promise.  I enjoy Catholic fiction and truly love art history, so I figured this book would fill many interests.  Well, the story does hold together, even with some hiccups.  My recommendation is to stick with the storyline, but make the characters more human and realistic.  Give their words emotion, and make them actually believable.

(i received this e-book free to review from booklookbloggers)

Self-care

The de-cluttering book Your Spacious Self is so wonderful, I've begun reading it again.  The house has begun looking a bit unloved this past week, and it needs care once again.  Seems I have difficulty staying with a program unless someone's encouraging (prodding gently) me.  So, I got out the journal I wrote in while I was reading it, re-reading what I'd penciled in, and rejuvenating myself.

I tend to take things in too huge of a bite.  Figure if I can't finish whatever I set my mind to IN ONE DAY, that I've failed.  Failure is a key word in my make-up, not sure why.  Set myself up to fail, for some reason.  Think ill of myself, bad self-image, all of the above.  And a hard one to cure.

Most every week I thank Gary for being such an encouragement to our kids, especially the girls.  I think it's crucial for men to appreciate and compliment the females living under their roofs.  I never got that, and I'm not blasting my own dad, but it wasn't his way.  Never did I receive positive reinforcement from him, and most likely, it never entered his mind.  He was always working.  In his generation, that was the way.  Go to work, come home, shower, eat dinner, and then sit in front of the t.v. until bedtime.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

Stuff spills over.  And in a physical reality I've learned that it's easy to pad your life with extra pounds to keep folks away.  Provide a barrier so you won't be approached and hurt anymore.  Thankfully my husband doesn't listen to that lie in regards to me, but I do struggle with loving myself enough to lose weight.

Seems this is the summer to slough off things, be it pounds or clutter.  All interconnected, I do believe.

Untitled, because I don't feel clever...

Well, a mental crash of sorts seems to be a regular thing for me this year.  My word of the year was REST, and it was sort of prophetic.  Didn't realize how necessary to my sanity, though.  I know more about certain things now than I did then, so maybe I am a prophet.

Woke up very dizzy this morning and figure the impact (pardon the pun) of yesterday's mishap finally got to me.  You can live in an adrenaline rush for a bit, then reality hits and down you go.  Least I do.  Oh, and shortly after I woke up, Gary talked to the girl's insurance company and she was beginning to say that there was a witness that said she was innocent and Gary ran the light.  Good grief.  The police report says differently.  After a few more anxious moments, her insurance company back-pedaled and reneged on that statement.  Anxious moments indeed.  

I was supposed to take my mom to the doctor, but Gary went instead with our youngest son to help.  My husband goes and goes and goes.  His famous quote is 'Now what?' which is pretty apt for him.  He can always do one more thing, and if you know he's sick or hurt and ask him how he is, he always says fine.  Always.  I'm not complaining about him because lots of women have whining husbands who will jump at the chance to be sick.  Mine, however, doesn't happen to be one of them, but my foolish notion is that I'm made the same way.  Oldest daughter says to me today, "You're always telling us girls to take care of ourselves, but you don't do it yourself.  Why is that?"  Don't have an answer for her.

The rest of the day should be non-stressful, and hopefully the remainder of the week.  Please.  We now have a rental car...some cute Chevy SUV, but I'm not sure what it is.  Still not sure of the truck settlement.  They may offer a selection of used cars/trucks, but likely we'll lean toward cash to do with as we please, purchase-wise.  

More information than any of you need to read, but I needed to write it.  Also on my mind is fourth son who's today taking off work to move his stuff from his brother's apartment to the place he'll share with his boyfriend.  Yeah, that's enough to make most moms dizzy.  Makes my heart beat fast just to type it.

You all take care.  I've had enough myself.

May it Rest In Pieces

Gary had only been gone for about 15 minutes going to work when he called me up.  The photo says it all.  Driving through an intersection, a young girl tried to turn ahead of him.  Poor Suburban, and her Hyundai as well.  Being a 1989, our Suburban's days were numbered, but gosh, what a great truck.  Hot-sounding engine as well.  A wonderful rumble, but no more.  Thankfully nobody was hurt.  A bit sore, but nothing else.

The girl was so sweet, and was crying when I got there.  And we were the ones to take her to a friend's house.  How often does that happen?  She told Gary she was glad he didn't yell at her.  Could've just as easy been one of our kids.  Yell?  Uh, no.

Praying now for a replacement, of course.  A rental for a bit.  God's hand on her situation too.  Funny thing, she and I have a mutual friend on Facebook.  Yeah, I looked.

We're a one-vehicle couple anyhow, so while we'll not likely look for another Suburban (terrible gas mileage), we need room for us and the three youngest ones.  Prayers appreciated. :)

'Seeing in the Dark' by Nancy Ortberg

There books that come into our lives at just. the. right. time.  Nancy Ortberg's book called Seeing in the Dark is one of those special books.  She talks about the times of our lives when God can be silent or elusive.  When the pain we live though is so difficult, we can't seem to rise above it.

But rather than give the reader pat answers or be condemning of those days (weeks, months, years), she offers hope.  One quote that rang out to me was:  'The dark is what allows you to see."  She'd talked about how the stars are so hard to see when you live in the city.  You might see a few, but not anywhere near the number when you sit in the countryside without the city lights blinding your view. The dark allows you to see.  And the darkness we experience often gives us a glimpse of God we'd not be aware of when life is fun and games.  Not feeling much fun and games lately, so her gentle teaching of being aware of God's presence was very dear to me.

She tells of a time when the Lord came to her and she saw herself sitting across from him.  Her concern at that time was about one of her children.  She pulled her child from behind her back, placing her between her and the Lord.  Repeatedly He must've moved the child back behind her, because she over and over brought her daughter forward.  Finally, she got it.  It, whatever it was, was between her and God, not her, her daughter and God.  Just the two of them.

I think we often try to manipulate God, begging Him to see things from our perspective, shoving our needs in His face.  He knows.  He wants us to stop and let things go.

She writes:  "This is about you and me.  And the only light you need right now is the light you see.  The light that shows you the steps toward me.  If you let that be enough, your heart will be at ease.  Your grip on control will slacken, and you will live in that bit of light, which is the right place for you to live right now.  That small piece of light will enable you to be with your child in a nonanxious way and let me do my work.  If you move out of that small piece of light, the darkness will be great.  You must find a way to live here and to find your way back here when you move away."

A blessing for sure.

(i received this book free to review from Tyndale publishers)

A slow day

Hearing the Lord tell me last night to really focus on One Day at a Time.  And today's good.  The kids and I got out for a few minutes to take back some library books and get some groceries.  Have to wait for a check to clear, then tomorrow we'll shop for the weekend's feast.  I'm thinking hamburgers on the grill (which I'll do since Gary is one who murders meat cooked on the grill---not his gift), pasta salad and Key Lime pie, which is really lemon pie since we substitute lemon juice for the Key Lime, which to me is way too tart.  But lemon pie sounds boring, while the lime has more of a dashing sound.  So really I'm lying about what we're having.

Moving on.

Bills are mostly caught up, or can be attended to next week.  Not inviting anyone over for dinner on Saturday.  The girls have mentioned a couple of times that it takes us such a long time to recover when we play nice when the boys stop by.  As a mom, I'm always grateful to see my children, but the back-wash isn't always agreeable.

So.

No pressing worries.  Books to read, including Go Down, Moses by Faulkner, which I save until bedtime, even getting all twitchy and excited after my bath, because I get to read more.  We'll be in bed reading, Gary with his current bee book (still waiting to find a swarm for his homemade hive), and me with my ever-present (now) Faulkner.  I'll be reading along and will go, "Hey, you've got to be kidding!?"  His writing continues to surprise me, or maybe I'm not too awfully bright.  It's a toss up.  Used to, I'd be quick on the uptake, but my brain has taken such a beating these last couple of years, it's easy to surprise me anymore.

Considering asking you to recommend restful books you enjoy to read when you need easy and quiet books.  I'm partial to Miss Read, Rosamunde Pilcher and Elizabeth Goudge so far.  Need to think on it.  I'd love to compile a list so we can refer to it on the sidebar.  A reference guide for tired minds.  

Will go now.  Take care.

Healing

My girls are finally having to deal with the nonsense their brothers have put them through these past few months.  They'd not reached that place yet.  Our youngest, who's newly thirteen, is one who will always say she's fine, even when she's not.  She stuffs things down.  Our middle girl, who's sixteen, doesn't hide it so well.  For example, when oldest son came by on Father's Day, she'd just woken up from a nap, walked right past him where he was in the living room, and didn't even acknowledge his presence.  I call that audacious, and I didn't say a word.  I won't stand in the way of how these girls relate to their brothers.  I won't scold or say a word.  They have to get to a place where they can deal, and seems today was that day.  Know this, though.  None of the girls are aware of what his girlfriend does for a living.  They don't need that in their heads, and the youngest ones wouldn't understand anyway.  The girls are just hacked that he's living in sin.  Yeah, that's enough for their sweet minds to get around.

Middle daughter said she felt let down by those she felt she could count on and trust (meaning the boys).  Abandoned.  She and I just cried, her openly, me trying to hide it from her.  I cry all the time, which they're used to, but don't want to appear fragile when I need to be the strong one.  She'd written a very sweet letter to the least one telling her they were best friends and how she wanted to 'be there' for her.  It was awesome in its tenderness.

Felt good to hear them being open.  I told her it's been healing for me to get mad on paper, and middle daughter said she'd done that, but hadn't felt a release from it.  Dang those boys.  They've said what they're doing isn't hurting anyone.  They don't have a clue.

Was reading Matthew 13:24-30, the Parable of the Weeds, and it's our family.  Not a pleasant ending, but it's so apropos.

* * *

Jesus told them another parable:  "The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field.  But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away.  When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.  The owner's servants came to him and said, 'Sir, didn't you sow good seed in your field?  Where then did the weeds come from?'

'An enemy did this,' he replied.  

The servants asked him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?'

'No,' he answered, 'because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them.  Let both grow together until the harvest.  At that time I will tell the harvesters:  First collect the weeds and tie them into bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.'"

* * *

As my husband says repeatedly, we have to keep our tent clean.  And even tonight after dinner he said he so much enjoys our home now.  No animosity or struggles.  The Spirit is clearly present and we try to stay on top of it.  Can't let our guard down, but try to stay on top of what's in our children's heads.  You have to.

And I'm reading a review book by Nancy Ortberg called Seeing in the Dark, and it's exactly what I need today and everyday lately.  In dark days God is so present, even more so than in the joys---that's the message.  It's a book of hope.  And in contrast, I reviewed a book by her husband awhile back.  Not keen on him, but she is a comfort. You just never know. :)